NOVEL NEXT Chapter 136: A Demon's Fate
After two and a half days of constant marching through varying volcanic fumaroles and toxic marshes, Zilara pointed out the first signs of twin, gnarled horns upon the horizon. The nearest of the two horns was intact, but the far southeast horn was cracked at the tip. Battle damage incurred during the final climactic battle of the old heroes.
Another night at camp and another morning passed, after which the rest of the great façade came into view past the haze and smog. The full skull came into view over the next hill.
Vacant eye sockets two-dozen stories high loomed in the distance, the central features of a league-tall skull half-sunken into the Fellmarsh. Demon snouts were short and stout, leaving only a narrow slit behind. In rare clear weather, the squiggle of stairs could be seen running up and down this nose-socket.
Atop the skull, chiseled in over the centuries by high-level artisans and stoneworkers, sat a layer of cathedral edifice. Demonbone was a perfect building material for true masters, and the greatest crafters in the land had 400 years to transform the skull of the fell and terrible Demon King into the Grand Cathedral of the Most Holy Church of the Menu. This edifice ran up the length of both demon horns.
While the gaping eye sockets were too wide to truly transform the figure into a stained-glass tableau, that was not the case closer to ground level. Stairs were carved into a gap at the bottom front. Each of the 128 teeth was itself a cathedral or holy shrine, hollowed out with hand-carved windows adorned in a full spectrum of colors. From the top row to the bottom, left to right, each tooth shrine depicted a different station or gospel tale along the pilgrimage path. The most faithful pilgrims, having graved the path from Riverglen through the Fellmarsh, could then relive the route in miniature.
Bones of the Demon King littered the ground for two leagues around in every direction. It was joined by the bones of thousands of lesser demons slain beside it. While the small fry had since been mined for armor crafting material, the sheer number of king-sized humerus and ribcages allowed for pathways over the swampy quicksand.
All paths led to Demon Lord's Fall. The various swamp trails, sanctioned or not, converged at a boneyard plaza under the demon lord's empty gaze. At Jelenas's insistence, they traveled swiftly and quietly, aiming to stake out the front door.
For hours, nothing came in or out of the grand cathedral. Then, just as they were about to sneak around the base of the skull, Enkidu spotted a caravan from due east.
Four ceremonial carriages wider than the trail, each led by two dozen dire-horses, approached at a slow pace. They were flanked by roughly a hundred arbitral auxiliary forces of level 75 or above.
"There are two more coming down the path," Enkidu reported.
These were representatives from all the major cathedrals along the route. Each carriage was adorned with some regional flourish: the lead wagon had a brick façade similar to that of the Olde Capital, while the second had a paintwork emulating the golden canopy of Autumn's Redoubt. Next would be Firefield and the Delta, with Plains Junction and the Twelfthnight forest not far behind.
"It'll be another day or two before Deepwood, Granite Pass and Riverglen arrive," Calaf said. "The path through Deepwood and the descent down into the plains will delay the wagons."
Each retinue would bring with it an archbishop and a bevy of guards. Security would be heightened during the actual conclave, and the official commencement of the pilgrimage season would bring even more scrutiny.
"Going to have to get crafty," Jelena said, looking up at the dead demon's decayed skull.
It wouldn't be as easy as simply walking through the front door. Arbiters were already carefully examining each new clerical aspirant at the foot of the stairs. But the Demon Lord's Fall was on a scale that dwarfed any human. The bones were old. There would be gaps in the joints to infiltrate.
While patrolling the outside of the massive skull, the party discovered the remains of a camp nestled in a valley between two of the slain Demon King's massive claws. Undone tents were poorly hidden with a thin layer of gravel. No fire had been placed.
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"It's a camp for unbranded," Zilara said. "No Menu interface. Tents pitched manually."
Jelena examined the scene with a hand on her hip. "Bet it was the Jiquan – that foreign group, eh?"
Shovels sat propped against the sunken demon's claw. They'd tried digging under the boneyard to infiltrate the grand cathedral from the basement. Only the swampy environment of the Fellmarsh stymied the dig.
That accounted for one of the other bands of thieves. It remained unclear whether they'd made it into the inner sanctum by some other route.
"Right. Sapping is out," Jelena said. She looked back up at the demon king's empty face. "Perimeter will be well-patrolled."
One other pathway remained. It would be under the veil of night, but Calaf and Zilara produced every length of rope they'd encountered for the journey and spent the afternoon arranging them in four long, massive lengths.
Calaf held a length of rope in his Inventory. Zilara held a second, also via Inventory, while Enkidu and Jelena held their ropes the old-fashioned way. Via Inventory, the Paladin could view the length, thickness, and maximum weight of the rope. Examination assured him that each rope was ready to go. It would not be enough to climb the entire demon skull, but much of the complex was in the creature's mouth and cheekbones.
It was an hour past sunset when the party rushed up to the sheer cliff that marked the old Demon King's jaw. Enkidu took his rope and swung it like a lasso. He threw it straight up with inhuman strength and precision. The loop end of the rope caught on some nigh-imperceptible nook of bone chitin. Jelena, Calaf, and Zilara handed their ropes to Enkidu, who threw them all to points high above.
"Okay." Jelena looked this way and that for signs of any church guards. "Up we go."
The party climbed. Enkidu was on the farthest left while Jelena and Calaf climbed beside each other. Zilara was on the far right, just off Calaf's shoulder. Surprising no one, Enkidu swiftly outpaced the group.
For his part, Calaf had unequipped all the heaviest equipment and was climbing in plain civilian clothes. He risked a look down, where the grand plaza was now filled with carriages and other, smaller retinues. Figures moved about by torchlight.
"Whew." Jelena exhaled, forty armspans up the demonbone façade. "You okay there, dear? I know infiltration isn't your specialty."
Calaf pulled himself up the rope. "I'm doing fine. How are you?"
"Eh, it's a change of pace." Jelena shrugged as much as possible, given the circumstances.
"So, what do we know about the other thieves?" Calaf asked as they climbed.
"Only seen evidence of the foreign band," Jelena said.
"Infiltrating from the conclave caravans would be most obvious," Enkidu said from above. "Too obvious. Stealth spells seem likely as well."
Walking through the front entrance seemed too novice for Mikail, at least.
From what they'd managed to hear on the road, in Firefield, and at the capital, there was going to be a rushed pre-pilgrimage conclave. A proper pilgrimage season could not be commenced without an archpope, after all. It was customary that a new archpope travel the path from Grand Cathedral down to Riverglen then back again. The ecumenical council lived among the hollowed out bones and leaking fell miasma of Demon Lord's Fall. They would be joined by the archbishops of the major regions and other key church personnel. Would Charlotte be here? Calaf shuddered, adjusting his grip on the rope. It was a possibility. Deacon was more likely, presuming no more permanent replacement bishop was chosen for Port Town.
"How's Zilara?" Calaf hazarded a glance over his shoulder.
Only, Zilara was not beneath them. She'd outpaced them a fair bit.
"Heh. Snuck a levitation spell from the Battletower," Zilara said, walking vertically up the bone-wall, using the rope only as a guide to maintain a straight course.
"Well, want to cast it on us?" Calaf asked.
His foot slipped, bringing progress to a halt.
"Only works on Branded." Zilara grinned cheekily. "Your girlfriend will be left behind. Hurry up, Hoss."
Begrudgingly, Calaf adjusted his grip and quickened his pace. There was no sign of the top of the rope.
Another convoy arrived by the time they'd completed the climb. This was good, as cathedral guards ought to be distracted.
A single point of entry awaited. Enkidu had a good eye and aim. They needed only to shimmy over into this opening and then climb up through a gently sloping shaft sans rope. Enkidu, Zilara, and then Jelena filed in. Calaf went last.
"Smells worse than the marsh in here," Zilara said, awkwardly holding her nose and climbing at once.
The levitation spell was of little use here, but the shaft was of a gentle-enough grade that the holy child hardly needed the magic.
A foul scent did not abate. But the temperatures grew warmer as they ventured further into the demon skeleton. The shaft briefly went vertical, but by then they could easily reach up and climb out… into an austere monastic latrine.
"Sneak in through the toilets. Classic move," Zilara said.
Jelena scrunched her nose. "Going to need to clean up before we do business."
"There should be a bathing chamber located in a hollowed out pituitary gland towards the base of the jaw," Enkidu said. "It would be the best place for it."
Nobody questioned why Enkidu knew that. The overpowering smell and muck covered them completely. They wouldn't be able to infiltrate anything if the guards could track them by scent. Having successfully infiltrated the Demon Lord's Fall, the crew searched for the baths.