Eldritch Exorcist

"Is this thing alive?" asked the nun with a mix of surprise and disgust in her voice.

But we could all feel it deep inside. The thing had a presence. When you look at something alive, something with a soul, you can sense it instinctively. While the creature's presence was feeble, simple, and foul-feeling, it was undeniable that a soul was a part of it.

"Yes, I think that's a homunculus," I said, not moving my eyes from the strange doll lying on the chair, squirming.

"Aren't those outlawed? Doesn't creating a homunculus get you an instant death penalty?" asked the priest.

"Yes," came the firm response from the cat, who was now standing on hind legs, observing the strange thing, looking like a housecat following a laser pointer. Always trust the brokers to know the law.

But even I knew that the creation of a homunculus was a no-go. If you want to study souls, learn astral projection, and risk your own. Creating a homunculus will get you executed on the spot.

"So this is the thing that made Father Marco sick?" asked Nathan.

"Yes, but that does not explain how the curse was cast."

"Didn't the thing cast it?" the priest asked, surprised.

"No, I mean, do you think something with the mind of a newborn at best and a barely formed soul could use magic at such a level?"

"You are right. So it was used as a stand-in for the caster. But how? Like in the case of blessings, that is impossible for curses too, right?" asked the nun.

The blessings were very similar in mechanics to curses, so she got that right. You had to be part of the spell, no stand-in. Even if you used a ritual or an enchantment, that enchantment would still need part of you to be able to release a curse.

"Yes, it's impossible. A stand-in, living or not, should not—" I choked a bit, my memory finally making the connection with the strange deja vu. "be possible."

"You sure?" asked the cat, immediately picking up on my pause.

"Yes, that's the first time I've seen this," I lied. Still, I hoped I was mistaken. For all that's foul in the Abyss, let me be mistaken.

The cat looked at me, suspicion clear in its eyes, but did not say anything.

"So this was recasting the curse?"

"Yes and no. I assume someone designed the curse and constructed it. This was just used to fuel and renew it. Like a computer made to run a specific piece of code, the program's author is the real person behind it, not the machine. This is the same case. It just runs the curse like a machine runs a program. Not sure how, but that's my assumption."

"I agree," nodded the nun. "This is way too simple a creature to cast such a curse. It had to be designed by someone proficient in it. No wonder it was easy to destroy it with such a caster," she murmured.

"So if we destroy this thing, it will not recast the curse? Father Marco will be fine?" asked the boy with hope practically radiating from his whole body and tears of relief glistening in his eyes.

"Yes, technically," I answered, still deep in thought, "but this does not explain the demon. Casting a curse is one thing, but a demon is a separate matter." I used the tips of my fingers to pull out the black silk from underneath the thing and brought it to my nose.

"What is it?" asked the cat.

"I'm not sure. I'm not an alchemist, but I think the cloth was soaked with some sort of anesthetic. I can feel the tips of my fingers go numb from holding it."

I was deep in thought. I was still missing a piece of the puzzle. There is also the smell. Is it some substance I know? We would have to get an alchemist to analyze-

I could see some movement from my left. It was the altar boy raising a small throwing dagger he had pulled out of his robes to stab the weird creature. He had tears in his eyes, gnashed teeth, and hatred in his eyes.

Wait, what if the scent was used to mask something?

"No!" I screamed, unraveling my staff, ready to fling him away with the Force spell. But I was too slow. The dagger pierced the doll's head. In the last second, I stopped the spell, knowing it was useless.

"Why would you–" the priest started to ask, surprised. He was readying himself for battle, seeing my staff unravel into my hand, ready to attack me. But the reason for my sudden movement revealed itself immediately. The smell of chemicals was meant to do one thing.

Mask the smell of sulfur.

As the dagger pierced the homunculus, there was a lull, like the air itself went unnaturally still, refusing to vibrate for any sound. Then, the smell of sulfur assaulted our noses, a sharp and irritating odor, like someone lit up a match right under your nose.

The scent was followed by something akin to an explosion. We managed to jump back on instinct enough not to get swept up in it. But it wasn't big. It was just a sudden movement of air caused by something violently manifesting out of thin air.

And there it stood. The thing looked like it was stitched together from red, muscly body parts. Below the waist, it was shaped like a satyr of sorts, with goat-shaped legs but without any fur, just stitched, red flesh dripping a black substance here and there. It had a bit of black fur on the waist, resembling makeshift black pants.

Its upper body consisted of a muscular torso, similar to a human but bent forward with three arms, two on the left side and one on the right. The hands, each a bit different in length, each ended in a vicious claw, making it look like it held a sickle in each palm. The head was the only place without any flesh, with a dog-like white skull growing out of the neck. Its eyes were set deep in the skull, small, barely visible dark points, looking around with hatred.

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A reaper demon. Three hands mean the equivalent of the third circle. Bad news.

"Run!" I screamed.

The thing swung one of its arms at the lying priest, piercing his chest. Blood immediately gushed from the wound. I looked back just to see the man's eyes shoot open, with his last bit of clarity allowing him to witness the talon in his chest.

For a second, we locked eyes and he mouthed something. He tried to scream, I'm pretty sure, but no air would be pumped from his pierced lungs. So all he managed to do was mouth one word, one word which I recognized, one word which I did not want to hear in the context of this case–'miracle'.

"Nooooo!" screamed the boy, as the priest grabbed him by the collar and dragged him out of the room.

We bolted out of there, the priest and the nun closing the doors behind us. The old man powering the enchantments stood up in surprise but immediately understood the situation was serious, as the enchantments shone with renewed light.

*Bang* There was an explosion-like hit to the doors, almost throwing the priest and the nun back. The doors creaked.

"We must get to the altar. We will have an advantage there. There are weapons prepared to protect it," Said the priest, then pointed at the old man. "You, go to the altar room and prepare it for a fight. We will hold it here as long as possible."

"We just have to run away. It's just a projection. Once the mana it absorbed from the crystal runs out, without a host, the demon will disappear back to hell," I said, helping them hold the doors, preparing Panther's Agility to get out of there as soon as possible.

"If we let it roam around, it will kill many people. It's a reaper demon. It will slaughter anyone on instinct." Shouted the priest.

*Bang* Another hit, and a claw could be seen breaking through the doors.

"Well, that is horrible, and I feel for the local people, but we don't have much chance against a third-circle demon, especially in closed spaces," I rebuked.

"Would you just let them die?" asked the nun, with shock clear in her voice.

"Nothing in it for me to die for strang—"

"A contact for a fortune-teller and 3,000 gold obols," said the cat quickly.

"The people around here are like a family to me. I could not stand any harm coming to them, not on my watch."

The priest raised his eyebrows at me while the nun looked with a mixture of disbelief and shock. Honestly, Eman really overpaid–he had me at the fortune-teller. I was also curious how I would fare against a demon of such a level.

Only one way to find out.

*Bang* We barely ducked as a whole claw made its way through the doors, followed by another as the demon just shredded them.

"Lead the way!" I screamed as we started running deeper into the network of tunnels. The doors, or rather what was left of them, shattered against the wall behind us.

The demon jumped out of the room, crashing into the wall in front of the doors and raising clouds of dust, just to finally spot us and give chase. It was gaining on us. I threw a couple of Cut spells, but they just left small marks on the already stitched and ripped flesh of the creature.

"It's about to get us!" I shouted.

The boy, with blind hatred and fear in his eyes, threw a throwing dagger at the creature. It was some sort of blessed weapon, but the demon just slashed it in the air, breaking the knife.

"Do that again, but barely miss," I said as an idea popped into my mind.

Nathan looked at me questioningly but produced the knives, throwing them at the creature as I finished my cast. The daggers made it past the beast, and as I thought, it did not bother dodging or swinging at them. Its dynamic vision was good enough to know immediately that the dagger would not hit.

A mistake.

Force Control

A second circle variation of the Force spell, allowing for some control over the force rather than just a blast. I used spatial magic for the cast, controlling the dagger's position in space rather than adding momentum through mana so that the creature did not sense the spell behind it. I could feel the spatial magic draining my mana like a man dying of thirst draining water.

I quickly "grabbed" the dagger as it was barely behind the creature and pulled it towards me with all the strength I had in the spell, changing its direction so that it would end up in the demon's leg.

The beast was not ready for anything attacking from behind. The knife made its way into what I assume was a knee. I could feel my concentration slip. With the last ounce of willpower, I twisted the blade, earning a whistle-like roar of pain. That bought us some time. We were still running, but the beast was a bit slower, giving us some space.

But not everything was good. I had maybe three more casts for second circle spells in me. Plus, Panther's Agility and Cutting Storm, loaded into the staff, with Force, Shield, and Cut on the first level.

"It's the doors to the left," said the priest, and we dived into the room. It was a nicely decorated place with a carved stone in the middle of a raised platform at the room's end, radiating a divine energy. It was beautiful, but no one had time to admire it. We bolted inside and made for the altar.

The old man stood there, pulling a greatsword, two daggers, and a flail-like contraption from one of the locked wardrobes in the room. We looked at the doors, but the demon was not in a hurry. It was apparent we were in a trap.

The beast knew it had us cornered, so it savoured the win as the priest, altar boy, and, to my surprise, the cat armed themselves. It was slowly walking inside. While moving, it raised the claw, still dripping with Marco's fresh blood, to its skull-like face. We could see black mandible-like appendages move to lick it clean.

It was enjoying itself.

I looked at my companions. The priest was holding the greatsword while the nun cast some blessings on him, making it seem like he was wearing some sort of shiny, see-through armor. It made him look quite impressive. He looked like he was used to wearing armor, probably a paladin of sorts.

The boy was in a half-crouched position, ready to jump, with two daggers and both fear and hatred etched into his face, as if he wanted to rush at the demon and run away at the same time.

The old man was to the side, and he would be useless in the fight, judging by the heavy breathing from the running alone.

And the cat. Even the cat had armed himself with a spiked metal ball affixed to his tail. It would be funny if not for the fact that as he waved his tail, the spikes left gashes in the concrete behind him. Wait, no armor, blunt-strength-based weapon, scars. Could the cat be a barbarian? It was quite a strange sight, but I'd take any combatant at this point.

I prepared myself for casting as the creature slowly approached, ready to rush at us with every flex of its muscles.

"Any plan?" asked the priest.

"If you can lock it down for around two seconds, I can get it with a triple spell," I said. It should be possible if I dual-cast and use a stored spell right after. This should work.

Cutting Storm was not the best choice, as it was an area of effect spell, but I should be able to modify it a bit on the fly. I hoped.

"I will see what we can do. We will give you a sign to start on it. "

"Sure, but once I cast, you have to jump to the sides. The spell will cut anything it touches, you included." I informed the fighters.

"Will do."

"Then let's try that."

All we had was a flimsy hope that the triple-cast spell, with the help of the altar being present, would end or injure the creature enough.

Finally, as the demon was close enough, the priest jumped forward with a roar.