Paladin of the seraph, p.68
Paladin of the Seraph, page 68
Darren realized he had a choice to make. He could use his resurrection skill to save Horon, or he could resurrect all those in his army that he had lost. He could either resurrect a single Sixth Order like himself, or he could resurrect dozens of fallen Fifth Orders and hundreds of those of lower rank.
He fretted over the idea for a few minutes, but the more time he wasted, the more the seraphim bodies dispersed and the harder it would be to resurrect them all.
In the end, he chose to save his subordinates. It was what Horon likely would have told him to do, and Darren held out hope that he could restore the Prime Saint of Honor tomorrow when his power had been refreshed.
But more than honoring Horon’s memory, Darren found Thalia and Callum had gotten caught up in the fighting. She’d been helping civilians, and she was the weakest of his women present. She had been too slow to dodge a ruthless blow from Kalaziel that cut a building clean in half. She’d been inside the building at the time and been bisected straight through the middle, just like a dozen humans and seraphim standing nearby.
Callum, meanwhile, had been crushed by a rock the size of a building. He’d insisted on being one of the last to retreat, and he paid the price for it.
“Why didn’t you tell me when it happened?” Darren demanded of Cassandra when he finally heard the news.
“You were fighting, dear. During a battle like that, I dared not distract you,” Cassandra explained.
Darren’s anger cooled at that. Cassandra was right, as usual. He gave her a warm embrace. Sasha soon joined him.
They recovered the two halves of Thalia’s body and put them back together. By now he and his companions had seen Darren resurrect the fallen enough times that it wasn’t nearly as difficult a job as it would have been had they not known Thalia would be with them again shortly.
“Thalia’s going to be mad that she’s an ugly corpse.” Morgana shook her head and let out a grim chuckle.
“She died a very heroic death,” Sasha reminded Morgana. “She was saving people from a building in the middle of a battle.”
“I guess...” Morgana shrugged her shoulders. “She should have run off the moment Darren gave her the warning...”
Scraping up Callum was a tougher job. Thankfully, his armor kept him mostly together, despite being crushed.
Darren waved his hand over their bodies, spreading his gesture to all the hundreds of corpses beside her.
“Rise.” Darren commanded. One by one, wounds healed and bodies stitched themselves back together again. The souls of the dead humans returned to their mortal vessels, and the souls of the destroyed seraphim took humanoid shape once again.
Slowly but surely, the fallen returned to the world of the living, sitting upright one at a time and blinking in confusion.
Eventually, Thalia awoke.
“I... I guess I died...” Thalia looked at her hands. “I wondered what being resurrected would feel like.” Her eyes darted up to meet Darren’s. “Am I still me? I didn’t leave a fragment of myself behind, did I?”
“You’re still you.” Darren reached out with a hand and pulled her back to her feet. She ran her hands over the deep tear running straight through her priestess robes, embroidered gold to show her status as Empress of the Blackwind Empire.
“We can stitch that right up,” Morgana assured Thalia. She pulled a few pins from some place tucked under her belt and helped Thalia fit the two halves of her dress back together.
Darren watched on with a warm smile. Despite her earlier threat of teasing, Morgana was quick to help those she cared about.
However, despite Morgana’ s efforts, the bottom half of Thalia’s robes kept falling down. Darren only stayed to watch a few times before reaching into his Realmvault and withdrawing a new set of robes for Thalia. The ones formerly belonging to Prime Saint Iliana would fit her perfectly.
“Thank you, Darren.” Thalia gave him a kiss on the cheek. “These are lovely. I’ve never felt fabric so fine.”
“Presents from Darren are the best.” Morgana nodded in agreement. “There’s nothing quite like them.”
She eyed Darren out of the corners of her eyes and held her hand over her lips. “Especially when they’re plundered by someone else!”
Thalia frowned when she was reminded of the robes’ former owner, but whatever hesitation she had wasn’t enough to override the fact that these were far nicer than the tattered rags she was wearing.
She accepted the change of clothes and dressed herself again.
Only then, after minutes more of regeneration, did Callum finally bolt upright. A shiver ran up and down his spine as he reached for his face and felt it.
“That hurt,” Callum said.
“I bet,” Darren chuckled. He helped Callum to his feet. Callum accepted the hand and groaned as Darren pulled him upright.
His armor was so twisted and bent that he could hardly move in it at all, so Darren and Morgana cut him free. Eventually, he was standing among them in the flesh once again. His shirt beneath his armor was equally tattered and pulverized, but Darren had plenty of spare clothes in paladin sizes, as well as spare sets of armor.
Only when he was armed and dressed once again did Callum finally voice the question on his mind.
“So... since I was revived, I’m assuming we won? Did you beat him?” Callum’s eyes bore deep into Darren’s.
Darren shrugged. “Gone, but not dead.”
Callum nodded. “Then it’s a bit too soon for me to start selling off loot for coin. Gotta fill my pockets before we go drinking! I have no idea how much ale it takes for a Sixth-Order Paragon to feel tipsy.”
Darren chuckled. “Coins are no issue.”
He opened his hands, and bronze coins spilled out from his Realmvault.
“Yeah, yeah, Darren. We know you’re rich,” Morgana yawned.
“Wait, look at the coin faces!” Callum picked up a coin and saw Darren’s face painted upon it. “Did you have these smelted in your image?”
Darren shook his head. “I made them myself.”
“When?”
“My Realmvault can make anything. I showed you the porridge.”
As proof, Darren made more coins from silver and gold. He made gemstones and simple jewelry. Anything he could visualize could be drawn forth from Chaos through his Realmvault.
“Woah!” Asuriel gave Darren a poke. “You have an infinite money hack! Damn!”
Darren shrugged. His reserve of coins had been near-infinite already, so this didn’t really change anything for him. He thought it was simply a nice parlor trick, but all his companions wore looks of shock and giddy excitement on their faces.
The only person who hadn’t reacted at all was Cassandra. Darren thought that was strange, since he thought she’d be the most excited at his new ability. She did like collecting lots of shiny coins.
“Uh... Cas?” Sasha gave Cassandra a poke as she stared at the coins appearing from thin air and pouring into Darren’s hand with a look of dull incomprehension.
“I think you broke her, Darren!” Morgana laughed.
Sasha gave Cassandra a poke, and she collapsed like a wooden board, fainting from the shock of it all. She would have fallen to the floor if Darren hadn’t stepped in to catch her.
Everyone shared a good laugh. Once Cassandra and her plump, pregnant belly were safe within his arms, Darren joined them. Now that the city had been taken and Kalaziel repelled, he set about claiming this territory as his own. The Dungeon Queen did her best to wrest it away from Kalaziel.
“It’s getting tough!” the Dungeon Queen said. “I think the fact that this Heavenly Throne thing is nearby is making it harder. I’m only a quasi-Genius Loci! That thing is the real deal.”
Darren gently patted his crown. “Just do your best. And you will be the real deal someday. I guarantee it.”
Even when Kalaziel was defeated, Darren didn’t intend to stop. Fulfilling his father’s dream of reaching the Seventh Order again as a human was a task that had been passed down to him. If the Sacred Seas really did need someone at the Seventh Order to defend them against outsiders, it would be his responsibility to fill that role.
Fortunately, the Fifth Layer was small enough that he didn’t need to fly its perimeter all that much. Just sitting by a campfire with his friends and allies was enough. They talked, chatted, and healed while the Dungeon Queen did her work.
“You know, Darren, you feel a little different.” Morgana gave him a poke on the arm.
Darren cocked his head to the side. “Do I?”
“Yeah. Less... I don’t know. Less likely to be targeted by a pickpocket as a naïve newcomer in any area.” Morgana shrugged.
“It would have to be one brave pickpocket to target Darren!” Callum chuckled.
“Well, I mean, just the way he talks and speaks. He used to have this freshness to him. Like he didn’t know what was going on. You know how it was. He didn’t know how money works. He had trouble buying things.” Morgana looked at the others.
Sasha nodded. “It was very adorable. Such a big, tough man, and yet still so cute.” She ran her fingers through Darren’s hair.
Cassandra nodded in agreement, pressing herself against Darren’s side. She rubbed her cheek against his chest while her hands wound tight about his side. She’d been glued under his arm and unwilling to part with him from the moment she learned he could create infinite money. It was comforting, but she clung to him so tightly he was starting to feel like she was trying to keep him from escaping.
“Super adorable...” Cassandra muttered, still half drunk on the mere thought of Darren’s new power.
Darren chuckled. “I practiced and learned.” He knew the ways of this surface world now, and he knew the hearts of mankind. He may not have been born and raised to them like others were, but he’d overcome those years he’d spent in the Seven Hells.
Eventually, the Dungeon Queen let out a contented sigh.
[Whew! That’s the last piece. I think I’ve done as much as I can at my current level of power.]
Darren stood. With great difficulty, he pried Cassandra off him.
“Here, you can pretend Sasha is me.” He dropped her off in Sasha’s lap.
Sasha immediately lowered her voice into an imitation of Darren’s. “I’m Darren. Come on, Cas. Let’s kill demons and bonk stuff with my super huge sword!”
Everyone laughed, and Darren shared one last smile with his comrades.
“I’ll be back soon. It’s time for me to finish this.”
66
Unlike the lower layers, no clearly marked stairway led to take anyone from the Fifth Layer to the Sixth. But the lack of an entrance was no impediment to Darren.
He flew as high as his wings let him, all three sets streaming Divine Aura as they carried him further and further upward.
The sky that wrapped around the top of the Fifth Layer was false, made to look like the sky of the mortal world. He found that out when he pushed against its greatest heights and found a soft barrier pressing back against him.
Dimensional Rift let him cut a hole through it. Peeking out, he saw the world that housed the Sacred Seas. It looked so small from far away.
He tried his Dimensional Rift repeatedly until he finally found what he was looking for. A doorway that led further up. He knew what it was the moment he found it since the concentration of Divine Aura took another jump upward.
He stepped through the door, amused to find the Sixth Layer of the Heavens not too dissimilar from the Sixth Layer of the Seven Hells.
Like its dark counterpart, the Sixth Layer of the Heavens became a garden. The sun shone brightly on the nearby leaves and grass, scattering among the modest trees. They weren’t even as large as the trees in Eastwood, and if not for their vibrant colors, they would have appeared rather ordinary.
In fact, not one of the flowers or trees would have looked out of place in the Sacred Seas, had they been duller or plainer versions of themselves. It was like this place had taken every flower and every blade of grass and pushed as much life as would fit into them.
Streams ran through the garden, each no bigger than a creek but crystal clear and teeming with tiny fish. Darren bent over and ran his fingers through the water. It wrapped around his hand, and he had the impression that if there was any Demonic Aura in him before he’d dipped his hand in, the stream would have washed it away.
One of the nearest trees was an apple tree with plump fruit hanging from its branches. He plucked one and took a bite. It was juicy and had a bright and airy flavor. Not as sweet and decadent as Laura’s cherries, but still a flavor so intense a mortal who ate the fruit would find themselves lost to the taste. The Divine Aura infused within the fruit would be enough to make even the least talented person into someone eligible to become a Holy Adept.
Under other circumstances, Darren would have plucked every fruit for the rest of his people. Unfortunately, most of them hadn’t been able to follow him into the Heavens for their lack of power, though they dearly wished to.
But he would have free rein of the garden soon enough.
There was something else that caught his attention in the garden though. Several somethings, now that he saw them clearly, and all of them had been watching him with ten thousand eyes each.
Just like the Seven Hells, this garden was not without its residents. Again, his mind went back to what Horon had said of this place. This was where the Prime Ophanim lived, the strongest of the ophanim, and those that controlled the entire ophanim network that underpinned the entire Heavens.
He had seen many ophanim, but never ones of such size or majesty. The Prime Ophanim were bigger than the rest, and if Horon’s tales held true, they were as strong as Prime Saints. Would they react to him with hostility?
Darren waited, crouching among the leaves and bushes. He was ready to move the moment one made a hostile motion. He’d never seen an ophanim attack before, and that thought worried him. Visions of being crushed by a giant rolling wheel of eyeballs drifted through his mind. They didn’t seem capable of combat at all, but neither had the Omniscient Codex.
He watched, and they watched him in return. He remained unblinking as he stared them down, and they did the same.
Apparently, they were quite content with this turn of events because their staring contest stretched from seconds to minutes. Darren had never been so severely disadvantaged before, for his opponents each had ten thousand eyes, and he had only two.
Eventually, even a man as cautious as Darren was forced to concede that the creepy orbiting rings of eyes were not about to attack him. He still held his sword in hand, but as he thought about warily sneaking by them, he sensed the tether of Divine Aura that connected his sigil to the ophanim his mother was in drawn taut. It vibrated like a plucked string on a musician’s lute. A moment later, a quest appeared before him.
New Quest!
Hello, Son.
Objectives: None.
Rewards: None.
Darren’s eyes went wide, and not because he still thought he could out-stare the ophanim. When he spoke next, his voice shook.
“M-mother?”
New Quest!
You’ve grown so big.
His heart beat faster in his chest. He scanned the Prime Ophanim, drifting among the garden as they hovered a hand-span above the grass and wove between the fruit trees. He traced the thin line of Divine Aura. The first connection his sigil had ever formed and the only one of thousands not woven by him. This was the connection his mother had made for him upon her death so that she could continue to look after him even after passing on.
“I’m here, Mother,” Darren said, the corners of his eyes watering when he spotted the ophanim. He approached it, but it ignored him. The great spinning wheels rotated one after another, meandering on some unknown course as the thousands of conflicting minds within it each tugged it in one direction or another.
Darren waited for another quest. For another message from his mother. After so many years, he finally felt so close. If he could, he’d tear her free from the ophanim and see if he couldn’t restore her, as a seraph if not a human.
But no further quests came, and the ophanim moved on. His mother’s voice went silent, and the tether between him and her went slack again. She must have exhausted what influence she had over this ophanim. As a soul that had formerly been an archpriestess, she had a lot of power compared to most human souls.
He looked deeper, trying to distinguish her from the other souls within the ophanim. Surely someone of her former power would stand out like a torch among candles. Few others studied the structure of priestess souls as much as he did. He had scrutinized many, Cassandra’s and Thalia’s in particular.
But try as he might, he could sense no sign of her. A dark thought loomed over him. What if she had been wasting the last vestiges of her power to send him his quests? He remembered how happy he’d been for those few moments of contact and the joy of completing a quest. But if his mother had been suffering to deliver those moments to him, it would turn those few bright spots during darkness into ashes in his mouth.
He shouldered the thought aside. He would see his mother again no matter what. If she was weakened, he would help her restore her strength. If she was dead, he’d bring her back to life. Simple as that.
He turned to the center of the garden. The Lord of Light’s palace was impossible to miss. It was far larger than Laura’s humble cabin.
To call the structure magnificent would be to do its description a disservice. Every surface gleamed, and each wall seemed made of crystal instead of stone. The light beaded against its surface and reflected colors in all directions.
Darren reached for the front doors, grasping the rings hanging there and pulling. The doors bore no lock, for locks would stop no one capable of breaking into this realm.
“You’ve come at last...” Kalaziel growled as soon as Darren opened the door.
His bruised and battered form clung to the Heavenly Throne. The seraph’s once-pristine wings were tattered and hung limply behind him. His once-golden armor was dented and cracked. His well-groomed beard hung loose and haggard from his chin. Bloodshot lines ran through his eyes as he glared at Darren from across the room.
