Walking into the hall where the “Ghost” ran, Dei saw what his mind placed it as.

  A large woman, perhaps six and a half feet tall, with goat horns and white wings. She was utterly nude, but it frankly did not matter considering most of her body was obscured by a white mist, holes punching through where he saw the flesh below. If this was the pure embodiment of a soul, this woman was missing many pieces of her own.

  He couldn’t tell her skin, eye, or hair color, so those parts were grayed out, but her muscles were defined by the same soul emanations giving him the outline of her shape, letting him read her body language.

  Many of his Skills, spells, and effects worked in tandem to give him an estimation of her emotions, though he had no way to read them directly, and Dei’s approximation of her emotions were read by Perumah as she interpreted the space between them all into something of a reasonable idea for what she was thinking.

  “Don’t let (Name) think I approve of his massacre,” Perumah translated.

  “Any guess as to what the ‘Name’ was?”

  “Something along the lines of Foriatrian? That’s less important. Let me expand the meanings imbued into each word, that was only the direct translation. She really wanted to say ‘Ensure that Foriatrian knows that if Death ever finds a way to claim him, I will make it known just how much I hate him now that he’s become the torturer rather than fix the system after gaining enough power to do so.”

  “That’s a loaded sentence. Who’s Foriatrian?”

  “I don’t know. Foriatrian, expanded into how she saw him, was called ‘Fellow experiment from which I draw comfort, led astray into a horrific fate.’ I believe I have a theory as to who that is.”

  Dei sighed, “I do too. Confirm with Aloran?”

  “Agreed.”

  “Anything else to be gleaned from this memory?”

  “Not right now. Let us be off.”

  On their way out, Dei searched for Ashvorn to make sure it wasn’t feeling too bad, then did a double take when he saw it lurking around his heart; not because it was up to anything nefarious, but that was where Fendrascora kept the bulk of her internal world, and he saw it communicating with something within.

  Upon a more detailed inspection, he could make out the figures of his parents and how Ashvorn kept to just the edge of the world, talking to them.

  He was tempted to turn his attention closer to either eavesdrop or join the conversation, but the battle still raged, and there was little time to enjoy the company of family right now. It might be for the best if Ashvorn met its grandparents anyway, considering they were more experienced with children and knew how to answer questions.

  His mom was going to be angry with him for not introducing them sooner, but there hadn’t really been a chance to. After fighting off the demons, Dei was going to spend some time with his family and friends.

  Opening his eyes, found his connection to Aloran and started to pray.

  “Hey Aloran, was the demon’s name Foriatrian?”

  “WHAT?” Aloran shouted at him, “What did you just say!? Who told you that? Have you told anyone else? Ground below, sky above, Dei! Don’t just start a conversation like that! Give me a warning!”

  “My bad,” he said offhandedly, “But is that a yes?”

  “Leave the tunnels to The Mother…” Aloran muttered tonally, as though he were repeating something he’d said a thousand times, then sighed. “Yes, it is, but don’t tell anyone that, and please tell me where you heard it.”

  “When I died-”

  “You what?”

  “-There was this incomplete soul thing that wanted me to deliver a message to Foriatrian and basically tell him that she’s going to kick his ass if he ever finds his way into the Plane of Death.”

  “Okay, restless soul delivering a message isn’t a source of information that can be suppressed, so that being the method is good news. Also. you died?”

  “Yea long story short a Time Beast version of myself broke into reality and possessed me but the Null mana killed it, then my domain- I have a divine domain now by the way- self destructed and killed me too.”

  “That is a shockingly coherent summary based on everything I know.”

  “Thanks, why is it important that the demon’s name not be known? To shame him or something?”

  “What? No. You are aware of social Achievements?”

  “Yea?”

  “They draw power from populations. The demon is feared by everyone, but because the properties of the demonic affinity are that of decaying everything it comes into contact with, Foriatrian cannot earn a boost in power if his reputation comes from being a demon, as the affinity will destroy its own Achievement. Basically, the social ‘Energy’ latches onto the demon ‘Energy’ and gets destroyed.

  “If it were to latch onto his name, however, Foriatrian would earn abilities based on the world’s fears, which would not be an insignificant thing. It’s merely another layer of defense. If we only let him be known as ‘The demon,’ all the social energy he accumulates goes to waste.”

  That made sense to him, so he wouldn’t talk about the name again.

  “Thank you, that’s all I wanted to know. I suppose right now is the time I pray for luck in the upcoming battle?”

  “Not quite, I have no power over luck, so you wouldn’t want to pray to me if that’s what you desire.”

  “Strength then. The strength to protect the Gem-Dwellers, my family, and my friends.”

  “That, you shall receive” Aloran told him, and Dei felt warmth flow through him, rejuvenating the last of his exhaustion and tightening his muscles. The power felt slippery in a way, and Dei knew he had no control over it. The faith energy acted through Aloran, helping Dei in his stead.

  Standing up, he prayed for guidance as well- to the door, that is. Dei wanted to find his way into battle.

  “Be careful Dei,” Aloran warned him, “Both Iora and Oura fight within this battlefield. Though they will be directed away from you, there is more demon-kin than air outside the gate, and confusion does happen.

  “Reinforcements journey towards us. Stem the tide for long enough, and we will weather the storm.”

  “Understood.”

  The fighting grew louder as he approached the small gate leading outside. One line of people left to fight, another came in as those exhausted or grievously injured sought to rest and be healed.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  He felt constant, varied, powerful detection spells searching him for countless different factors and decided he’d simply walk through the line rather than fly over and through the walls. He had no doubt that if he weren’t careful, automated defenses would come down on him, and he even if he could survive it, there was no purpose in straining them any more than necessary considering the threat outside.

  He noticed many odd looking humans, and nobody threw more than a glance at Dei despite him being in his World that Walks form, cutting a somewhat terrifying visage. Right now, he was just another soldier in the swarm.

  This close to the wall his attention was sharp, letting him see how several of those who looked ready to collapse near him seemed to gain a second wind, life returning to their eyes. Dei kept his Presence muted because he was still afraid of letting chaos run wild, even if he was positive affinities would be particularly active in quarantine, but the few close enough to feel it showed how much of a blessing he might be.

  As he moved, he’d occasionally see a flash of a Shaman rapidly flying through the air, distinguishable based on their staffs. When they came by, he’d feel a conscious attempt at assessing everything rather than the soulless defense.

  It seems the Shamans were all ensuring no demons slipped through, a patrol of sorts among them.

  The first scan paused on him a second, then another quickly afterwards, and the third Shaman finally stopped above him.

  He looked middle aged, but Dei found that was completely irrelevant to a Shaman’s actual age. Their presented maturity was more of an aesthetic than an actual indicator.

  The Shaman held the typical albino appearance of all other Gem-Dwellers, and a piercing glassy look told Dei he held diamond eyes, something he’d only heard of until now.

  “You’re a powerful fighter,” the Shaman in a billowing cloak standing above him said, “I permit you to fly above the populace, both in and out. Will you fight?” The crowd had parted around Dei from the Shaman's attention.

  “I will, also, telepathy?” Dei asked, flying up to meet the Shaman.

  “I have it,” he said much faster than before though still easily understandable to Dei’s mind, as if to cram more information in at once.

  “I need to know if one of my passive aura abilities would be welcome or if it might clash with any others who could hold something similar.”

  “It won’t clash,” the Shaman said, “We have a team dedicated to properly melding the different effects together. I am Lavor, you?”

  “Dei. The effect is also partially random, I warn you, and it might even be harmful, is that still okay?” He didn’t miss how Lavor froze for a moment when he’d said his name, but the man made no mention.

  “May I have the exact details?” Lavor said, and Dei got the feeling such a question was rude yet they were past the point of decency.

  “Yea,” he said, and gave a description of the chaos and how the affinities would decide how to manifest or limit it.

  Lavor’s mouth twitched into a smile. “There’s no need to worry. One of the smooth stitchers holds luck abilities and will further tilt the odds in favor of better outcomes. Not only that, but if you do not know, many affinity-deciding abilities receive special attention. There is little risk anyway, and for that reason I ask on behalf of all Shamans that you cease restricting all your passive abilities. Parsing your Presence, I see you have many which will give incredible benefits over the drawn-out battle. Should any harm arise, I, Lavor, will formally accept the legal fallout. That being said, please wait until you are outside the city to continue, as the stitchers will likely need time to properly integrate your abilities, and we do not wish to scare the population.”

  Dei had barely moved from his spot because of how quickly their conversation went, but he accelerated towards the exit now, and Lavor moved alongside him.

  “Thank you Lavor, I appreciate the clarifications a lot. Will I need to keep an eye out for any orders or anything?”

  “Shamans require strict instructions and coordination, but you are a Slaughterer, we do not expect you to do the same. If we need you somewhere, we’ll tell you to go there; otherwise, it is the duty of the Shamans to work around you and ensure you are at your maximum lethality. Do as you will, everything else will work out.”

  “Got it.”

  They reached the exit, and Lavor quickly said “Justin wanted to talk with you when possible, but right now, that’s not on the table. If and when we get ahead of the swarm, seek him out. Goodbye, Dei, and be well, be aware, be dangerous.”

  He felt the last one was a parting saying he was unfamiliar with, so he said “Uh, yea you too.”

  Lavor flew off into the distance, and Dei was left alone to see the battlefield.

  Crossing the portal, Dei saw a wall of black and gray. Aloran wasn’t exaggerating when he said there was more demon-kin than air, because half a mile out, countless demon-kin pressed forward, held at bay by the wall of Gem-Dwellers meeting their charge.

  The ground around the city sloped downwards, with the city now on something of a hill, but Dei didn’t think it’d always been like that; it felt like the battle raging just kept destroying the earth.

  The first thing he felt were the boons pressing into him, weighing on his body for a moment before he adjusted.

  It was hard to quantify exactly what he gained, but strength, durability, survivability, and a lessened need for food or water were a few.

  He also sensed thousands of wide-ranged detection abilities, though few took note of him. Most were simply trying to see where they were needed on the front and move there, so Dei didn’t think it would be out of line to cast his own.

  Using a soul-pulse, Dei grimaced when he saw there were simply no walls in range. There were more demon-kin than grains of sand on the beach, and they were likely enough to stop the ceiling from collapsing on them, wherever it was, as they served as structural support.

  The elites here as well… there were countless. No, it was better to say there was a new criteria for Elite, as around thirty percent were past the third evolution, and around ten percent went past the fourth. He detected several God-class entities locked in battle with swarms of Shaman, though luckily none were as powerful as those Aloran faced, at least none Dei could see. If there were any, they were only around the level range of five hundred twenty to five hundred thirty, rather than the six fifty range; despite barely being divine, those demon-kin were clearly a cut above the ones stuck at a “Mere” five hundred could be taken down by a dedicated Shaman, those around five hundred and twenty required eight shaman’s minimum.

  There weren’t enough people. There were only seventy two Shamans visible, and they were spread so thin. Dei was shocked they’d lasted this long in the first place and found time to check the city for hidden threats.

  He wanted, needed to change that. Shamans and Elites solo fighters specialized into single-target attacks. While Dei himself was best at solo as well, he had more than a few AoE options he’d held back until now so as not to exhaust himself.

  He was given permission to cut loose, the Lavor had practically begged for him to do so. The Shamans were hoping for a miracle.

  Ensuring his friends were linked to him through Connection so they would not suffer any risk, not until he’d tested it more, Dei slowly raised the output of chaos in his Presence and broadcasted that he was here.

  His Presence rode the emanations of chaos, carrying his message and blessings. Chaos boiled, and he felt the affinities roar to life in a way they simply never had before when he’d used [Hellish Divergence] outside of quarantine. Affinities hated demon-kin, and he gave them a facet through which to vent their rage.

  [Skill Leveled Up: Hellish Divergence: (81) -> (83)]

  He saw hundreds of weaker demon-kin twist, boil, pop, petrify, freeze, or in some way die gruesomely, the chaos searing them in fury.

  Dei didn’t intend to let others do all the work for him, so he began to grow, intent on squashing these demon-kin like insects.

  Setting a part of his mind to manipulate the “Phasing” aspect of being a Reaper and ensure he didn’t squish any weaker combatants, Dei shot forwards.

  Whenever a normal human would block his way, part of his body would simply become intangible and they would slip through him.

  Now four stories tall, Dei flew towards where he saw a God-tier demon-kin slinking forward unhindered by the distracted Shamans; he hit the battle line, utterly wrecking the the demon-kin on the other side and startling many of the humans as their adversaries were suddenly gone.

  Dei almost felt embarrassed when he sensed several Shamanic spells kick into place and protect the humans from the vibrations released by the force of his impact, but he shook it off. Lavor wanted him to go on a genocide and in the name of Aloran, he would. He would do his best to avoid collateral, but more would be saved if he cut loose.

  Every God he slew were eight Shamans free to save more humans. He didn’t know how long he would last out in the ocean of these horrible creatures, but he would do everything he could to draw their attention to him, to bring the heat away from the Gem-Dwellers for as long as he could.