Eldritch Exorcist

I had faced demons before. My father possessed some artifacts containing them—nothing too crazy, primarily imps and hellhounds. But this time it was different. This time, the demon hovered one circle above me, and I had a group of people I had never worked with, let alone ever fought alongside, as my only allies.

Our position was not the best, to say the least. The two frontliners were currently charging the creature, looking like they were attempting to reenact David against Goliath, but with an ending not fit for a fairytale.

It didn't take a seasoned warrior to know we were at a massive disadvantage.

How exhilarating.

I wiped the idiotic smile that had somehow crept onto my face and began casting. I needed to keep second-circle spells as my fail-safe for now, especially Panther's Agility.

But as for first-circle spells, I quickly went over the list, trying to pick anything that would make a difference in the fight.

Force was a good choice. A timely push could turn a deadly swing into a fatal mistake.

Next was Decay. Anything it came in contact with would experience a sudden loss of vitality. The spell would push the target along its life cycle towards death. Even against such an opponent, it should have some surface effect.

What else?

Sadly, curses were out of the question here. Like a proper moron, I had prepared to go against humans and did not prepare an anchor symbol for spiritual bodies, and realigning my tattoos now would take too much time.

Fire Bolt should do some damage.

Simple mana applications like Cut or Magic Missile wouldn't do anything here. And I could not use Eldritch Energy, as there was no vein in the vicinity, and the altar did not belong to my god.

Then, there was the last group of spells. Mind Spells. The creature's mind should be really simple. It was a ball of anger and cruelty, making it especially prone to fall for illusions in its blind rage. So even simple illusions like the Distortion spell should work.

With my repertoire picked, I started casting. Using arcane focus for one spell and tracing a rune in the air with my free hand, I cast Force and Distortion simultaneously, holding the spells for the right moment.

The fight was starting. My analysis took the equivalent of a single breath. Like a well-oiled machine, my brain was working at its highest capacity.

The priest swung, but the creature just backed away from the attack and then quickly stepped forward, swinging two claws at the man. He was a good fencer, immediately discerning that he had as much chance of stopping that swing as a train barreling down the track right at his head. Instead, he angled his sword, letting two claws slide to the side, barely scraping his shoulder.

But the creature had three arms. The last one was mid-swing at his head, but I did not release a spell, not yet. As the claw was about to land, a spiked metal ball diverted it in a different direction.

Like an angry, spinning whirlwind of violence, the cat jumped and struck the claw, successfully swiping it away. He landed on all fours, claws biting into concrete, body like a loaded spring ready to unleash another attack.

The priest used this moment to gain some distance, but the demon wouldn't let him. It roared in fury over its attack being thwarted and jumped forward. Instead of using arms, it just headbutted the priest like a charging bull, surprising him. The attack flung him backward, and the armor-like blessing lit up like a hot metal stricken with a hammer. The man coughed up some blood, landing on his back.

Healing light! The nun screamed, her voice breaking, tears spilling from her eyes. At the same time, a light radiated from her hands at the lying priest, his complexion improving a bit.

"Aggrhr!" screamed Nathan in blind rage as he threw his knives. The demon raised his claws to finish the priest, using two of them on the left side to block the flying weapons. That was my cue. I blasted Force onto one of the arms, the one meant to protect the creature's skull.

It worked. The dagger made its way into the bone, just barely. But the cat would not let this chance slip. With speed and agility that would make an acrobat jealous, it jumped, spinning in the air, and slammed the metal ball into the protruding dagger, like a carpenter driving down a nail.

For the first time, I think we truly hurt the beast, as the roar was one of pain rather than fury. The priest tried to use this moment to roll away, but the creature hadn't forgotten him, shrugging off the injury quicker than anyone could predict.

Swinging two arms at the cat, it swatted it away and brought down its last arm at the priest, who was in a half-risen position. Death was barreling down on the man.

Distortion

I felt the demon's mind, its blind rage, like a burning pyre within the psyche. One desire was present, kill and kill and kill to its heart's content. I anchored the illusion over what it was seeing right now. Just a bit of a difference, an unnatural distortion like vibration of heated air. A normal fighter might notice, but a ball of anger would ignore that.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

The claw came down.

Biting deeply into the concrete right next to the priest's head. He had time to get up but did something much more ballsy, something that had everyone surprised. Instead of getting up and picking up his sword, the man wrapped his arm around the appendage currently buried in the concrete right next to his head and kicked out his legs into the demon's, knocking it a bit off balance.

I knew what it was. He was buying me time. It was the perfect moment. He was on the ground so that the spell wouldn't cut him. Two other arms were mid-swing, dealing with the cat, which was swatted away from the range of my spell.

I got to casting.

Dual casting spells from different circles was tough, as they had different components, but I had to speed it up. I had time until another swing of the Monster's appendages.

I first started to cast Force, a spell that would further knock the creature off balance, ensuring the last spell would meet its target.

Then I focused on my mana, using all of my willpower to force my thoughts and wants onto it, like trying to shape a ball of heated metal into a desired shape with bare hands. The searing pain in my mind almost took my concentration, but I pushed through. Full chant omission for both spells. My tongue wasn't faster than the demon's claws, so no point using it.

Once mana was roused, I split my mind in two, creating another thread, a separate part of my consciousness to control the magic. The pain doubled, but that was the burden of dual casting. One half of my consciousness used my left hand to trace a quick activation sign for the Force spell, omitting the rest of the runes and the chant entirely, almost finishing the spell immediately as it started.

The second half had a tougher job. With only some help from the arcane focus, I forced my will upon mana to cast the second-level version of decay: Deep Rot. Casting a second-level spell involving the secrets of death was not easy. The energy was slipping, trying to go back to its resting state.

Come on, bend, obey. I gritted my teeth, seeing the demon finish the swing toward the cat and start bringing its claws down, starting the countdown to its victory.

But the magic would not finish its shape, like I was hitting my head against a wall. I gritted my teeth. I could use some fear right about now, but instead, I used my pride as a fuel. I imagined its smile of victory, I imagined it standing over me. With a roar of fury, I forced the spell to take shape.

I could feel something break, something shatter, a wall I was not aware of. And the spell clicked into place, materializing in front of me. My willpower just grew, achieving mana control I had never had before, but I did not have the presence of mind to celebrate.

First Force, then the Deep Rot. Once the spells were on their way, I immediately activated Cutting Storm from the staff. First, knock it off balance, then soften the flesh, then cut it apart. All was aimed around its neck.

The spells were on their way as the priest held down the creature's one arm. The remaining claws were too far away to protect the creature's chest. With the creature off-balance, they would not be brought back before the spells connected.

The demon had excellent dynamic vision, so I expected a glimmer of panic, any change, but nothing came.

Instead, it did something none of us would have expected.

As the attack was about to connect, I could see the muscles in the one arm buried in the concrete flexing like steely lines barely veiled by the red skin. They expanded and contracted, and the beast used the arm like a pole vaulter, using the pole to catapult himself. The creature launched itself into the air. The priest, clearly not prepared for such a maneuver, let it slip from his grasp.

The spells barely got the legs, mangling one of them and injuring another, but the torso went undamaged. To make it worse, the demon flung itself forward right at the nun and myself.

With quick thinking, I used one of the spells in the staff and simultaneously cast another by hand. First Force was aimed at the nun, while the other one at myself.

As red, furious death barreled at us from the air, in the last moment, the spells connected, flinging both the nun and me away.

She hit the wall on one side of the room, and I hit the other. Immediately after, I raised my hands to protect myself from a shower of stone and other debris as the creature crashed into the altar, breaking the stone apart with the ease of a sledgehammer.

I could taste iron mixed with dust in my mouth. The energy coming off the rocks around made everything worse. The concept of a greater good radiated from it like warmth from a burning ember. It was rule-abiding, pure, and righteous.

How awful. I think I get the demon a bit.

I raised myself onto my legs just to see the beast do the same. One of its legs was mangled into a twisted scrap of flesh dripping with black blood. The other leg was in better shape, just enough to hold its weight. The beast used its singular arm as a makeshift lower limb, tilting to the side with the other two arms now higher in the air, like the tail of a scorpion.

The deep hatred in the beady, black eyes was very clearly directed right at me.

The only good news was that the vicinity to the Altar seemed to do some relative damage to the beast as it tilted forward a bit, visibly weaker. But its next attack would be coming at me, that was clear.

I had the possibility of running away using one of the two remaining second-circle spells. If I cast a Minor Suggestion, I was confident I could get the dumb beast to focus its attacks purely on the rest of the people here while I got away with Panther's Agility.

But that did not sit well with me, not because of some sense of honor. I was not one for a glorious last stand, and even less for self-sacrifice, but turning tail and bolting it was also not me.

Winning. Even in the nastiest, most underhanded way possible, but winning. That was was my style. The will to fight and overcome, to prove myself, was burning in me probably brighter than the demon's rage. I wanted to rip it to shreds and use its mana to ascend to the third circle.

I had two more second-circle spells in me, no attack spells worth mentioning in the staff, and no curses or gods to call.

But my will was unshaken.

I prepared for casting by moving my mana, thinking about possible strategies.

Then I felt it.

My connection to magic improved, probably entering the territory of the third circle before my actual ascension. I heard that stress facilitated growth, but this was like learning to sprint by running away from hungry lions.

But if my control nearly entered the third circle, then maybe I could attempt a nearly third-circle spell if I used all of my second-tier mana. I would throw away my lifeline, but maybe win the battle. And save the other people in the room. I think they kind of grew on me.

"It's worth a try," I murmured to myself, standing taller, directly facing the demon. I did not fight the smile creeping onto my face.

And as I matched its gaze, I saw the beast flinch.