<div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    <div>


    I followed Father Abraham into town, and as we left, I reached out to Callie to have her tip off Caladwen about what was coming. I hadn’t been out in Ironreach much since coming here, though I wasn’t expecting to see much that differentiated it from Highhaven. Sure enough, the city layouts were very similar, though obviously not identical.


    The streets were cobbled, sort of, but rather than being uneven and rough like most cobblestone roads I’d heard of, the stones were smoothed out and provided an even surface for walking or driving.


    Speaking of driving, there WERE cars here, though they weren’t particularly advanced. Very simplistic designs, four wheels propelled by enchantments, with sconces anchored onto the frames for candles. The wheels were large and suspended on springs, making them look more like all terrain vehicles than a normal car, presumably for travel between cities.


    They weren’t prevalent, and I could tell from the Impact of the material that the process for creating them was probably pretty involved. I considered whether I should try to get one, but I didn’t know how much travel I’d be doing while I was here, or whether it would be cost effective.


    I decided to look into trading one for a wish if I had a chance, being short of one wouldn’t hurt. I had eight more scrolls today, leaving me sixteen total so dropping one would still leave me with fifteen, a nice round number. My thoughts drifted off to logistics, not bothering to engage with Father Abraham personally. I left a parallel in charge to talk to the scumbag, but my main thought processes were dragged back to the present as we entered a new area.


    Well, NEW implied that it was modern or up to date. It was new to ME, but it definitely wasn’t new. In fact, it might have been the oldest and most run down residential space I’d seen since arriving, and that INCLUDED the village that had been basically a collection of rickety shacks.


    This place wasn’t even made of actual buildings, more lean-tos constructed from flat metal sheets or spare pieces of wood. The wood was uneven and obviously salvaged from other things. Despite the limited materials, the makeshift buildings were creative and clearly made wit extreme care. The people who built these put time and effort into them, personalising their dwellings with painted designs on the metal and carvings on the wooden supports.


    My already low opinion of Abraham somehow got even lower. I’d known he was bringing me to do something horrible, and I wasn’t planning to go through with it, but seeing the conditions of the people he was planning to make me rob…I was seriously considering just crushing his skull with my staff right now.


    He sneered at the houses. “Disgusting. Parasites like this can’t do anything but live of the blood and sweat of others.”


    I frowned at him. “I thought the ministry was all about helping those who are less fortunate.”


    “Those who wish for help,” he corrected. “If these people were really interested in bettering themselves, they would have come to the ministry by now. Only a few of these leeches bother to show themselves at our premises, and the ones who do are dishonest and cunning like the thief we’re here to apprehend.”


    I wondered how he thought he could reconcile those two points of view. It seemed like hypocrisy to me, but then again, I knew he was a fucking monster, so that might just be my inherent bias. I didn’t think so though. I liked to think that even if I hadn’t already seen his true face, this would have shown me what a bastard he was. I was certainly sure that I’d never have participated in anything like this, regardless of what he’d tried to tell me it accomplished.


    Dantalion flared, and I felt the world around me. People were approaching, lots of them. Some were my friends, others I didn’t know, but I assumed they were either Caladwen or Dezcatra’s people.


    They didn’t actually engage. They were waiting. I prepared myself for this next part, splitting off a clone with Beelzebub and shifting it into Bael. The clone ranged ahead, getting into position to provide protection for whoever Abraham thought we were here to harass. I wouldn’t have allowed this to happen if I thought I’d be putting an innocent person in danger. My clone could protect then while the rest of us dealt with Abraham.


    We stopped at the end of a street in front of a corner dwelling. It was mostly metal sheets, with lots of complex painted designs of roses and animals across the surface. A small, well worn welcome mat was laid out in front of the flimsy metal door, clearly old and well cared for.


    “Damon Skwell!” Bellowed Abraham. “Reveal yourself, coward! You’ve stolen from the ministry of the Deepchild Collective, and you are owed retribution!”


    There was a slight pause, then a man came out. He was older, with salt and pepper stubble and laugh lines at the corner of his eyes. He was pale and gaunt, obviously underfed, but he had a kind face. “Father Abraham?” He asked, confused. “What’s going on? I’m sorry I couldn’t work today, but my daughter had a bad fall yesterday and broke her arm. I just need a day or two to take care of her until we can take her to the alchemist.”


    Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.


    “Still not admitting it?” sneered the corrupt priest. “Do you deny that you stole several loaves of bread from the kitchens?”


    Damon flinched. “What? No, I would never do that! Simon told me I could take home a few extra. He said you knew I was having a hard time and that I was getting extra food to bring back for my family.”


    He was telling the truth. I could smell it. Abraham, however, didn’t know about my Scent of Truth ability. He laughed coldly. “Theft and defamation. What a despicable cur you are, to blame your crimes on poor, humble Simon.” He shot me a faux desolate look. “You see, Wayne. This is the kind of perfidy we are up against. Scum like this makes it impossible to help righteous, deserving believers. I know it’s heartbreaking, but you need to be willing to educate the masses by smiting the wicked in any form. This will be your first lesson.”


    I stared at him. I could agree. Draw things out. I could wait for him to show even more of his true colors and put on a show…but I didn’t want to. That little speech, combined with the obvious fact that poor Damon didn’t do anything, made his current actions basically indefensible. It would be enough to raid the ministry and question Simon for sure, and I could guide them to the altar.


    So I didn’t respond with my words. I just hit him really hard with a stick. My staff appeared in my hand, and a quick, brutal thrust smashed it into his perfectly sculpted nose, smashing the bridge and sending him stumbling back in shock and horror as he covered his nose, trying to stanch the explosive bleeding.


    “What…what did you just do?” he howled. “Where did you get that? How could you….heretic! Non-believer! Abomination!” His voice got higher pitched and more insane as he went on, and by the end he was screeching so loud I was expecting dogs to bard.


    “You’re a scumbag,” I told him bluntly, spinning my staff between my fingers. “You’re a monster, and a psychopath. You torment decent people to feed the sick fish freak you worship, and you don’t even feel bad about it. The people in charge of this city know who you are, I’ve been gathering evidence, and I can provide them with the concrete proof to kick you out of this place, even with the backing of that C-ranker you’re sucking up to.”


    His eyes bulged. “You’re…what? You didn’t even see anything! I kept you isolated in those fucking barracks. How could you know about the altar? About the Abyssal Lord I serve?”


    I’d been talking about the city lord actually, but the Abyssal Lord WAS a C-ranker he was sucking up to, so I got the confusion. It didn’t matter though. Abraham roared, charging forward, and a WAVE of mist erupted from him. Behind his form, I could see a massive effigy of a horrible creature, the mist twisting and weaving into the form of a tentacled monstrosity with glowing red eyes.


    As it drew closer, I felt a wash of dread slam into me. It didn’t shake my mind at all, but it was increasing in pressure as he approached. So I stopped bothering with token resistance and triggered Leviathan. My hair blazed up in green fire and the flames that subsumed me melted away the cold mist without a hint of suspense.


    My staff flicked out, smashing into an ankle and he toppled forward. I vanished in a blaze of black fire, reappearing standing on his back, where I jammed my staff into the base of his skull. I didn’t kill him, just pressed it into his neck so he could feel how close he was to death, and he froze.


    “People like you are so pathetic,” I told him conversationally. “Bullies get so wrapped up in their own perception of power that they forget what real power is. You’re too pitiful to gain any actual strength, so you sold your soul to that fish freak so you could feel bigger than others. But without the disgusting tricks you learned from that monster, you’re not actually any good for anything are you?”


    “You can’t!” He screamed, squirming under me, face ground into the dirt. “You can’t DO THIS! My master is the true ruler of this world! You will respect me! You will debase yourself! You will release me!”


    I pulled the staff back an inch and then smashed it into the base of his skull, and he slumped. “How about your just fuck off to dreamland and imagine I did,” I said as I hopped down from his unconscious body.


    I turned to the side where I could sense Caladwen. “Openly inciting me to attack an innocent person, ritual torture, pretty much admitting to theft, is that enough to drive him out?”


    The city lord (lady?)’s sister appeared from nowhere, smirking down at him. “Oh that’s plenty. It’s more games than legality, really. We need a pretense more than we need hard evidence. It just needs to be a solid pretense. If you had been the only one here it would have been pointless, but since I was a witness…this asshole has got to GO.”


    “Kind of want to throw him in the ocean,” I said maliciously. “I bet his bosses don’t love failures. But that’s your call. As long as you don’t let him hurt anyone else. Also make sure you scoop up Simon. He’s some kind of junior priest or something. Now, about my payment.”


    Her face fell. “That’s…complicated. We found traces of your friends. But their location is a bit precarious. We can give it to you, but we aren’t sure it’ll be USEFUL to you. They appear to have been taken to Shadowcrack. Algenclave has them in the dungeons of the city lord estate. They’re being guarded by a few powerful D-rankers no one has heard of before, and by Algenclave himself, of course.”


    I froze. That…that was the worst case scenario. Literally. My friends being captured by a hostile C-ranker and presumably at least some of the godchildren. We had no chance agains t a C-ranker. Not one with literally any time in that rank. A new C-ranker would be almost impossible to kill without a trick like I’d used last time, but we could pin them down. For someone further into the rank though…we had no shot.


    Closing my eyes, I exhaled slowly. We needed to change the game. We needed backup of our own. I lifted my head as I opened them, focusing on Caladwen. “I’d like an audience with your sister. Can you arrange it?” Guess I needed to make someone else’s wish come true.