Several tense days later Biyu came to the Novel Joys merchant company's estate in the merchant quarter. It was a beautiful midwinter morning. Biyu told the clerk that she was here to see Derrick Noveljoys. After a short wait, the man arrived with a broad smile and a glint to his eyes. She finally remembered the man had asked to meet with her and Iris for a gift on taking Iris in. She had forgotten about the meeting she never wanted among all the things she was busy with. That it never happened suggested that Clarice had foiled his attempts to meet with her, for the man would have been dogged in his pursuit of the meeting. The man wore his jewels and gold, and one of his teeth were capped with the gleaming metal.

  "Why, how great—!" he began with a merchant's cheer when Biyu plunged a dagger into his eye socket. She used all her strength to jam it in, so the tip splattered out of the back. The clerk started to scream, but it stopped as the body of the merchant collapsed into smoke. A stench filled the air as the smoke dissipated, like old rotted eggs and musk. Only his clothing and ornaments remained, no corpse left behind to suggest there had been a crime; not even the blood and brains from the lethal stabbing. Biyu felt the power of his soul being tugged from her grip, but she ripped it free would not let him go.

  The clerk stared dumbly at the rumpled clothing, afraid to verify they were as empty as they looked.

  "Demon thrall," Biyu said loud and clear.

  As she exited, leaving the confused shop guards trying to decide if they had witnessed a murder or not, she wondered if the thrall of Derrick was constructed with more than a single soul. Derrick Noveljoys was not all that powerful, not if he died to something simple as a surprise dagger to the eye. Yet, she thought she felt more than a single soul gained.

  The sky was cerulean blue, with a few white wisps that could only dream of one day being clouds. The snow in the streets, cleared by industrial commoners of snow tossed into the cramped alleys or piled beside the buildings out of the way of doors, was gently melting. Pools of water glimmered here and there, fed by little streams from the piles. For just a moment, Biyu enjoyed the warmth of the sun on her face. The gauntlet was thrown, and now she and the people she cared about just had to survive it.

  Biyu walked a planned route from place to place, out in the open, and killed every cultist and thrall Motley was aware of. May carried the bulky weapons that did not fit easily through doorways, including a spear and shield, so she would be ready for when the demon counterattacked. People stared after them as she entered a building, killed without warning, and went on her way. The guards paid to protect some of her targets never even thought to get in her way before the deed was done.

  People shouted for guards that never came. Most who saw her coming openly holding a dagger bathed in the blood of cultists fled. Other people ran ahead, shouting warnings to any who would listen to them. Cultists, forewarned, fled before she got near them. It was expected, but she had hoped to claim a few more before they were warned. The thralls burst into smoke, recalled by their master lest the mad woman walking the snowy streets take their souls.

  The first counterattack by the cultists occurred outside a guard barracks in the merchant district. Two cultists from among a handful of guards attacked her when she came for them. She ducked and weaved, using her fighting style in combat for the first time in a long time, to jab a blade of potent poison that slowed and killed them. May appeared, and she killed another treacherous guard who had settled back to wait for a surprise strike when she let her guard down.

  The guards were shocked when their Knight commander ordered them to stand down. When the citizens following Biyu from a safe distance demanded something be done, the guards ignored them. Instead, they fell in behind the woman on a killing spree. The people, betrayed by their guards, fled. The guards, betrayed by their commander, followed while hoping there was an explanation.

  Biyu took the brief time between attacks to refine the power she had taken from her enemy to reinforce her own base. She would need a lot of power soon. More than she had by an order of magnitude. Unfortunately, she would have to make do with far less than that no matter how many imps and cultists they killed.

  A thrall, in the grotesque shape Motley had shown her, fell from the sky screaming its rage. May smacked the inept assassin out of the air, and Biyu was upon it, swapping a dagger for her sword. The blade was coated with Goblin blood to corrode its false form. It screamed, spit, hissed, and snapped at her, but it died as she took in its power. She paused and cursed. She felt herself reaching another threshold of power. Once more, as she faced a dangerous fight, she was on the cusp of taking another Step on her Path.

  With a barked out laugh that startled the soldiers, she reflected that if the acquisition of souls fueled her growth, then she would always take her Steps in combat. This time, without the corruption of Goblins, her progress should be smooth. Assuming demons had no corruption of their own.

  More thralls came, this time a swarm of the beasts who gibbered and screeched as they rushed towards her and the guard. May entered the fray, but the imps careened in ways May could not predict. After abandoning her massive sword for a regular blade and shield, she could at least hamper the creatures, giving the soldiers openings when she did not kill them herself. Biyu switched to spear and shield. Her power burst through a Step. There was no pain, just a feeling of emptiness as her mana capacity expanded. That emptiness filled as she absorbed the souls she stole from the demon.

  Biyu took stock of the battlefield. Some of the soldiers were heavily wounded. The nails of the imps cut like blades, giving each of them four arms full of short swords. Despite the many limbs and blades, their lack of skill let the soldiers dominate them in a fight. Biyu took some of her increased capacity, what little she could afford, and she granted blessings upon a few of the worst off soldiers.

  After the imps were destroyed, their bodies turned into sulfurous smoke, they headed for a place she probably should not go. Stopping outside the Temple grounds, she did her best to smile at the Priest who met her. "Priest, can you tend to the injured? We have a demon to fight, and I do not want to lose any souls to it."

  Viscount Lonelyknoll had informed the Priest about the events transpiring, and he acknowledged her request with a bow. He should know what she was, but he remained agreeable as he ushered the soldiers in to be healed.

  Sounds of fighting rung out across the city. It was nowhere near them. The militia had been called for drills in the squares of the city earlier today. Within the Guild quarter, Tradesmen joined the guard's Knights. In the squares of the residential, noble, and merchant quarters, militiamen in their hauberks and cloth armor met with members of the city guard. Now that the fighting had started the militia was being rushed through the city to evacuate as many people as possible. The guards came to help defend them, but there were not enough. The militia would be called on to help defend the people.

  Biyu addressed the Knight commander. "I will go help with the fight. Take a moment to rest. Things will only get worse. Come when ready."

  "Shouldn't you rest too, Lady…?"

  "Defender Elderwoods. May and I are the only ones who can ensure the slain imps do not rise. I cannot rest until the war is done, however it ends."

  "How do we do that?" asked the guard captain, looking at her in grim determination.

  Biyu opened her mouth to refuse him, but paused as a thought struck her. "Dedicate this war to me. Give me the souls of those you slay as an offering. A sacrifice. Do that, and we will strip this demon of his souls." She and May ran off, leaving the guards arguing among themselves.

  May ran with Biyu to preserve her mana. When they arrived at the fight, Biyu cursed. A few soldiers, guard and militia, were already dead, with most of the rest injured. The thralls were bigger than the ones she and May had fought before. Biyu could feel the power infused into the constructs without using [Wizard Eye]. She lunged for the imp nearest to her. It snarled and scratched her, but its attack was rebuffed by her armor and the reinforcement woven into her body. Biyu cast a blessing upon the dead and dying soldiers as she struck at the imp with several calculated strikes. The creatures looked intimidating, but they had no more idea how to use their bodies in combat than the ones from earlier did.

  May waltzed through the fight, deflecting the imps and killing one or two outright when she could land an opportune strike. She had returned to her twohanded sword, the larger targets making it easier for her to engage them. Biyu was at a disadvantage, the long limbs making up for the length of her spear, but the poison she delivered with her stabs and slashes did their work.

  Assessing herself after the skirmish, Biyu found damage to her armor with a few slashes on her arms. While minor, it was concerning that they had been able to cut through both armor and empowered flesh. Using [Heal Self], she patched herself up. Horns sounded from outside the city. She glanced about, ready for another wave of enemies. The citizens who had not been evacuated had barred themselves indoors, thankfully, and no one was out and about on the streets. She took a moment to check and aid the soldiers while May stood watch. Biyu used the blessings she had placed on soldiers from earlier to check their health. Those who no longer needed them she withdrew her blessing from, and she reinforced a few soldiers who were still wounded.

  Only a few skirmishes in, and Biyu was already feeling spent. She checked her power. It was fuller than she expected, and she expended mana to refresh her body and mind. Scrabbling clinks on stone announced a new onslaught had arrived. Turning her attention to battle once more, she dropped into a ready position alongside the soldiers. They had not come for the soldiers, but were trying to break into houses to assault the commoners within. May stepped ahead, engaging the demons to draw their attention from the people behind the barricade doors. Biyu followed, and she killed as many imps as she could with opportune strikes of her spear. Each slain imp added marginally more to her power.

  Biyu had been taught the first truth of a war between demons: the demon that could devour most of their enemies souls had an advantage. Between her and the old demon it almost did not apply, since the balance of souls between them had been against her to start with. In the end, it was a fight between the city and the demon, and she was the city's support.

  May screamed in pain as she completed a followup attack. One of the imps had managed to get close enough to her to jab its talons into her side. May stabbed the imp ineffectually with her dagger. Biyu threw a dagger tipped in poison at the thrall, and the thing squealed as her dagger bit in. She used [Poison Control] to send the poison coursing through it. May's injury was too severe for [Heal Self] to fix before she could bleed out, so Biyu treated her like a damaged thrall. She created a patch of false mana flesh to fill in May's wound. She could feel May's discomfort. The artificial flesh was not quite right.

  "Do you need to fall back, May?" Biyu asked.

  "No, Biyu. Just a breather." She threw another imp straight into Biyu's waiting spear.

  "No heroes. The day is long. We go to get healed."

  "Yes, Master."

  They fell back to a healer station. Rituals for healing were constructed for simple flesh wounds, while clerical Healers worked miracles of healing on those suffering worse injuries. Men held in their bowels while healers of one sort or another helped them bind the wounds closed while waiting in a queue. A few healers, apothecaries, used their salves to help fuel the healing process of Guild or Temple Healers. Others offered stretcher bearers bladders of a concoction to improve their mood or refresh their bodies to distribute when they got back to their squads.

  Vitality potions were a mixture of semi-magical ingredients that encouraged the body's natural healing, purge fatigue, cleanse the mind, and purge poisons. During times of peace they were touted as a way to refresh after a stressful day, but they had been made for use in campaigns where the enemy was relentless and soldiers limited.

  They returned to battle. Another contingent of imps swarmed from the merchant district, where the demon hid beneath the city. Biyu joined the line once more, the soldiers giving her a space. Gibbering thralls came rushing down the road. A handful of these fought with finesse, wounding and killing soldiers. May targeted them, drawing off their attacks while barely escaping fatal wounds of her own. Thus occupied, the soldiers managed killing blows on the few skilled fighters. Knights in the line, exhausted of mana, relied on the power of their enhanced bodies as they lunged with spears or wielded long handled axes to cut down the demons. Most of the shields had been rendered into splinters of wood and metal.

  The imps were decimated, but this time Biyu and May both had injuries that needed tending. Biyu frowned as she noticed she had lost a pinkie. Waiting to be noticed, the missing digit flared in pain. Biyu ignored it. Done cataloging her injuries, she focused on watching for another attack. May rubbed her side where she had taken a wound earlier, despite it having been healed.

  They both turned as one when they heard loud thumping.

  It gave up any pretense of subterfuge, Biyu said.

  Yeah. Biyu, I'm taking a vitality potion.

  I am going to get a closer look. I will bless the soldier's weapons. She hesitated. Are we losing?

  The Order of Holy Lances is here. They're the ones who blew the horn earlier. It should get easier with more Knights.

  Biyu leaped up onto a roof and stared. Two story tall imps thundered down the road towards her along the ring road. The creatures spied her, and gave broad grins with both of their mouths as their strides quickened. Biyu signaled to let May know they had to move. May shouted at the soldiers to withdraw from the road.

  Returning to the street, Biyu and May ran from the imps. They ran to the market square, leading them into a trap. The ground behind them suddenly burst into light as they reached the far side of the square. Fire and earth exploded up, shattering two of the imps chasing them. Biyu spun around and went after the freed souls to rip them from the greater demon's grasp. A thrall's swipe forced her to flee, leaving the bulk of the souls behind for the demon to reclaim.

  One of the massive beasts screamed, the lower maw stretched wide. It threw itself at her bodily, trying to crush her beneath its bulk. May appeared, grabbed her, and carried her away. Biyu glared at the prostrated beast. Spears thrust into its flesh failed to pierce the thick hide of the imp. Cursing to herself, Biyu blessed the men and weapons. With her power helping, their spears plunged into the wretched thing. It retaliated with sweeps of its ungainly limbs, injuring and killing a dozen soldiers for the few wounds inflicted. It pushed itself back up to its feet.

  Resources flagging, Biyu released [Envenom]. She attempted in vain to throw curses on the thralls to weaken them. With all the blessings she had handed out, she had little left to spare.

  From within her hell, the vengeful spirits begged her for release, their rage fed by her hatred for the demon. They wanted to fight her enemies. She had used them on the Healers, and even now she regretted the decision while refusing to apologize for it. They were a resource, and the demon was a greater evil than vengeful spirits loose in the world. Biyu granted them slivers of her Divinity, portions of her mana, and said a prayer to beg for forgiveness for evil done to achieve good. Committing to her decision, she bound then to an Oath to kill nothing but thralls. The spirits eagerly agreed to anything that would allow them to kill whatever enraged her. She released them.

  Screaming and howling, they raced into the world to claim the bodies of the dead. Their eyes were black fire. Their ruined flesh knitted back together using the mana she gifted them as cheap glue, so that dead men made whole once more lifted theirs spears. The surprised imps stared at the animated dead. Soldiers paled and cursed, assuming it the enemy's trick. The angry dead cried their hatred and condemnation, and fell on the thralls with wild abandon. They rented flesh, and the imps cried out in fear as they defended themselves.

  The remaining giant imps joined the battle, and one of the wrathful dead was smashed. His body refused to remain that way, pulling itself back into a semblance of a body. No soul was devoured. The imp stared in amazement as the dead refused to die again. So did the soldiers, watching the immortal soldiers fighting before them. Rallied by powerful new allies, their unseemly nature forgotten at the moment, they rallied to attack.

  Biyu checked on her blessings, to see if there were any she could withdraw, but many of the soldiers she had healed had mortal wounds. She hoped the healers would treat them soon as she left her blessings to sustain them. Many of her blessings were dispelled by the death of their holder. Or devoured along with their soul.

  Biyu fell back to watch the fighting. May joined her as they surveyed the battlefield. They both took vitality potions, but neither mentioned going back for healing. The fighting had gotten worse, and there was no sign of the Order of Holy Lances or the College of Falling Skies. They admired the mortal soldiers who still fought. As exhausted as she was, they still fought despite the fear of death and being trapped in the Hells. She could cheat a little, surviving traumatic injury with mana and Divinity. They sallied forth in defense of their city and families against monsters that sought to reap them without any such protection.

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  Iris did her best to distract the nervous children. Allie was pretending to be a proud noble daughter to shrug off her fears, but anyone could tell the girl was terrified. Bert was a lot more honest, shivering a little as he sat waiting for the demon to come for them. Sir Stuart was armed and armored, his sword across his knees as he relaxed while waiting. Relaxed, but ready. The Healers had prepared rituals of some kind, the apprentice Jolene assisting her master Healer Gordon while Healer Franklin worked on a second ritual. Lady Vanessa and Clarice were darning hose and trousers, of all things, while chatting about court politics with Lady Tabitha and the other court women evacuated to the top floor of the Greater Palace. Clio was Clio. She sat to the side playing a soothing melody Iris picked for her.

  The only one she could not get a read on was Chattel. The long eared woman was calm as she kneeled beside her. She had her custom broom against her shoulder, ready to fight like Sir Stuart. The two of them looked quite similar, except the unarmored woman looked calmer and more professional despite wearing servant livery.

  "Are you well, Chattel?"

  "I'm always nervous before a fight, Master," was the calm sounding reply.

  "You hide it well."

  Chattel looked up at her, and for the first time she felt the Elf engaging with her. She answered, "I was a scout leader among my people. If I wasn't calm, my subordinates would—" She cut off and stood fluidly, broom in hand. The children startled and looked around in a near panic. Sir Stuart took her cue to stand.

  Sir Stuart gestured to the soldiers to ready themselves too, although several were wary of the technically armed Elf. Chattel was moving, and the guards either fell into line to support her or put themselves between their charges and the doors or shuttered windows as living shields.

  A screeching creature crashed through a shuttered glass window, and Chattel stabbed it fluidly with her broom, sending the creature right back out. A brief flash at the tip of the broom revealed the blessing Lady Biyu had left for her. Lady Biyu had circumvented the rule against using weapons by using a blessing to turn a mundane broom into an exceptional weapon.

  Another creature smashed through a window, and a soldier fell back defensively leaving Chattel to face it. Her broom smacked the creature, crashing it into the ground in front of a soldier who stabbed it until it puffed into a stinking cloud. Chattel was already moving to another screeching demon, but this one grabbed the haft of the broom. It screamed as the touch of the broom burned it, and slashed Chattel's undefended arm. Chattel let out a yelp, her teeth clicking shut, as she shifted to a one-handed spear stance. With the imp's grip released, she jabbed the creature in the eye with the tip of her 'spear', destroying it. The thing screamed shrilly, its arms reaching up to soothe the wound. She punted it, wincing as it scratched her foot with its teeth, then turned to the next demon to enter the window. It was the last as far as Iris could tell. Chattel thrust her broom into its mouth, and when it was run through she whipped her broom at the wall, splattering the creature into another puff of dust.

  Chattel checked that the room was clear of threats, her overlong ears twitching as she turned her head. The whole sortie had been just a few demons. Returning to her knees, head down, she put her broom against her shoulder once more. Iris returned to her place beside Chattel, and patted the slave on the shoulder. "Come on. We have to get you bandaged up so you'll be ready when they come again." She treated the woman herself.

  Sir Stuart was checking his sword as he asked Chattel, "Why don't you have a real spear instead of a broom?"

  Iris replied for her. "She's not allowed to use weapons. Although, she is allowed to fight."

  Chattel looked to Iris, who motioned that she could speak. "I'm allowed to fight because 'some like them feisty'. Same reason I'm allowed to run away. Can't use weapons or my blessing." She lifted the broom. "A blessed broom appears to be fine, though."

  Sir Stuart chuckled at that. "Still, it's a waste not to give you a real weapon at a time like this."

  "I'm expendable," Chattel replied. "That was true even among my people. We don't expect our warriors to return from battle."

  Sir Stuart shook his head in annoyance. "We need to get you some armor at least. You can wear armor?"

  Chattel moved to stand up. "I don't think I can use a shield. It's a weapon, too. But, yeah, I can wear armor."

  "Trevor!" A guard saluted at Sir Stuart's shout. "Get this woman some armor. We have to spend her wisely, if we spend her at all."

  The guard saluted again, and took Chattel to be fitted with a gambeson and hauberk. Iris looked around. Bert was putting his small sword back in its sheath. Allie still held her knife. Neither Allie nor Iris had proper weapon training. Just enough to defend themselves from grabby hands or to discourage advances while their chaperones came to defend them. Lady Tabitha sat in her chair, looking at the damage to her home with thin lips. Clarice was rubbing Lady Vanessa's shoulders while whispering to her gently.

  The Healers held spears and shields of their own, but put them aside when no more demons came so they could treat the soldiers' injuries.

  The guards maintained a wary watch, but nothing happened as they waited for Chattel to return. When she returned, she was as armored as the palace guard. Gauntlets, an ill-fitting cuirass, a long mail hauberk, a kettle helm, and greaves made her look the part of a warrior. She settled herself into a sitting position she could easily rise from, and her ears twitched as she returned to listening for more imps. The soldiers relaxed a little at her return, although they all kept their eyes on the entrances to the room. A few started boarding up the windows.

  Chattel's eyes widened, and she stood up to go look out one of the smashed out windows, broom held at rest against her shoulder.

  "Shit."

  At her curse, the others approached to look. They saw the gargantuan beasts striding along the roads.

  Sir Stuart commented, "It looks like the battle has begun in earnest. I hope the Order of Holy Lances, Temple Guard, and the College of Falling Skies are making their assaults. The city won't be able to handle that alone."

  Chattel reported formally. "Formations in the merchant square activated a moment ago. I heard them." She pointed at her ear.

  "I wish Lady Biyu could have spared us one of her communication blessings," Iris said.

  Sir Stuart nodded. "A skill like that could change the way we conduct war. I imagine the Treasure Hunters would recruit her for it."

  Chattel turned to look at a spot in the woods outside the city. "Fall back, out of sight of windows," she commanded. Sir Stuart, the guards, and everyone else backed up. Chattel kept between them and the window, and a creature the size of a man appeared. Chattel engaged the first one, while the guards supported her once more. Crashing could be heard from other rooms in the palace, and a pair of soldiers stood at the ready at the door.

  Iris was forced to slash one of the beasts, its wildly flailing arms getting too close. Bert managed to land a clean hit on another beast before the guard finished it off. Allie held her knife out dangerously while keeping herself close to Lady Vanessa, Lady Tabitha, Clarice, and Clio. Clio was still playing her music, having moved onto another song.

  The sortie didn't last long, and their defenses held. The stink of the imps made the soldiers gag. It was bad enough they talked about changing rooms. Healer Franklin and the others tended to fresh wounds, their spears and shields kept close.

  In the distance, lances of light appeared in the air and slammed into the great beasts. The watching guards let out a cheer. The Holy Lances had arrived, and slain the giant demons in one attack.

  Chattel ticked her ears. "I don't hear anything. Keep your weapons close, but you can relax a little."

  "You sure?" a soldier asked.

  "Those little fu— bastards can't stop running their mouths. So yeah, about as sure as I can be." The guards did as she ordered.

  Sir Stuart watched on bemused, but said nothing. He did remember Lady Biyu telling him he liked the woman. He supposed, despite the wrenching of his gut when he looked at her, that it might be true.

  Hotaru was dead. She had died at the hands of a horrible man. The memories were fuzzy, but his face was clear. It was a face she hated. She hated him so much, she cursed him with every fiber of her being as she died. Maybe she didn't remember how she died, but she remembered the moments before her death quite well.

  When he'd died, she was elated. Before that, she had dreamed about begging a woman to kill that man. Others had been there pleading with her. Two dozen or more angry souls, begging for revenge. It didn't matter who did it, someone had to kill the bastard. Her whole family, one by one, had died as she watched… she thought. Her memories were usually vague, except for little moments disconnected moments. All but the man's face and her hate.

  Did the dead dream? She hadn't thought so, but… oh, she vaguely remembered a story, one of her mother's favorites, about a man dreaming about his lost love. It was the beginning and the end of a sappy romance, one of the ones with lots of exciting bits in the middle, but she didn't get the sappy stuff. Her brother did, but he said she'd been too young when she asked him to explain.

  Hotaru's wandering mind, docile now she had nothing to hate, was awoken as the Hell she found herself in filled with the desire for death. Her eyes ignited, looking for someone worthy of her wrath. She howled to join the fight, and so had the others who came with her into the domain of her god. Of course she was her god. Hotaru swore an Oath the moment the bastard died. She didn't know how, in her prison, she knew the man who killed her was dead. She just did. Hotaru worshiped her, certain it was that pretty little girl from her dreams. It had been, and released from her prison she found her. She had been drawn here. This was where she belonged. There would be more vengeance against the wicked if she stayed with her. That was her purpose. The purpose of all the ones who came with her.

  To her disappointment, there were no battles she was called to fight. Even when the domain writhed with unrest, they were not called upon. The soldiers and bandits, already skittish of them, avoided them altogether now. That was okay. They didn't understand the importance of hate. Of revenge. They sought paradise for themselves, and would kowtow to god for that paradise. The Heavens sounded boring to her.

  Now their god killed, and new souls appeared. She looked at a stunned fat man who, his eyes rolling back and forth in puzzlement. He was a bad man. She knew, because the spiders talked about him. Do spiders normally talk? She felt they didn't, but she couldn't remember that much about spiders either. The vengeful spirits descended on him, and made him scream until he disappeared to suffer like the other bastard did. There was combat, and a villain who deserved their wrath. They howled, demanding to be set upon the evil. They were the incarnations of vengeance and wrath, their last moments spent cursing the one who killed them.

  A piece of their god was granted them, a sliver that told them who to fight and why. Their wish was granted, and she was allowed to take a vessel! It was a fine man, if a bit mangled, but the power of their god fixed the bodies for them. They didn't need living bodies. A little bit of glue, and they were ready.

  She stood again for the first time in months. Years? How did the dead measure time? She picked up her spear. She never learned how to use a spear, but the dead man had. The vessel was empty. No soul lingered, longing for the life it had lost. Bits of the mind remained, and she made it hers. She remembered being Glen, a soldier of Lonely Knoll. She remembered how he died. He was no longer dead? How did that happen? Oh, because she was already… she took a moment to order herself, bare seconds, and then she was Hotaru the soldier. The twice dead. She took up her spear and shield, and she charged the enemy.

  When she was Glen, she hadn't been all that good with the spear, but she was a far better fighter than these things. Their nails were short swords, and they had four arms of them. A ridiculous setup. Half the time their own fingers and arms got in their way. She slew the ridiculous thing, and only grunted when it managed to wound her with its purposeless flailing. Power suffused her as she ate a soul like her god did. She took the power, and made it into a shield to defend her. It would be taken by the demon before her, recaptured by the enemy. She may be lost to the enemy, but she intended to ensure her god had many more souls before that happened. The enemy's power would serve her!

  She and her cohort fought and fought. Their bodies took injuries, and soon they no longer healed. They didn't need them to. They were the animated dead. With every kill she took, every soul she collected from the enemy, she formed new pieces of armor to bind and protect her failing flesh, or replace the pieces she lost. This was a tug of war, each soul collected a step to victory, each pawn captured a piece to be returned to the board under the enemy's power.

  A guard died near her, and she saw the enemy grip the soul, ready to devour it. She took it herself, killing the imp, and her reward was two souls. The imp she wove into her body. The soul of the guard, though? She looked at the dead body. Could she do as her Master had done? Intuitively she knew, just a little, that being like her god was bad. She asked the soul, "Will you be damned and fight once more, or be preserved and seek the Heavens?"

  The soul could not answer. It had no flesh, no mind. A soul was emotion and memory of a life lived. So she gifted it with a mind, granting it enough life to answer her question. It was instinctual. She asked again.

  "I will fight," it answered immediately. "I fought before, and the Hells were my likely reward. I will fight."

  Hotaru returned it to its body, and the man stood restored. She gifted it half her demon souls, but the man didn't know what to do with them. With a twist of her will, she gifted him a piece of herself just like her Master had gifted them a piece of her glorious self. That piece gave him understanding. He flared with power, his fellow soldiers staring at the dead man in fear and shock. His eyes lit with white fire, and he cast aside his spear for a new one made from mana and souls. Hotaru, surprised she had not thought of it, did the same.

  There was a link between them all. A piece of their god's Divinity, which was whole even when separated. She touched it, begging her god to let the others hear her. She told them what she had done. They cheered, and set about to do the same. Their numbers would grow. The tug of war would turn against the enemy, as the dead rose to fight evil. As she joined the fight once more, she realized the rage was gone. All she felt was exultation and righteousness. She and the new soldier, once dead unlike her twice, fought the enemy as the immortal dead. Could the dead die? Unstoppable dead, then. Not as… what was that word her father liked to use? Pithy? Not as pithy. She wondered which father she meant.

  She fought without rest. Her body of flesh finally failed, but she no longer needed it. She made a thrall body for herself, shielded in armor made of souls. Her weapon was a fantastic thing, ethereal power of gossamer strands turned into a spear, and yet she was not a person anymore. Not in the normal sense, at least. Demons quailed before her and her cohort. They granted their status to those willing, and those who were not they commended to their god's Hell to be protected until god could send them east where the spire rose up high in the sky.

  New gods arrived, and she ignored them. One, wreathed in golden light, watched her as she raised another soldier to their ranks. The god looked ready to smite her as she turned to a Knight of the Holy Lance. She made the offer. The Knight asked to go to his god. So she offered the god of golden light the soul. The god's scrutiny became disbelief as he stared at the offering. Hesitantly he took it, as though suspecting a trap or trick. She was no god. Why would he think she thought she had a chance? She gave him a fist to chest salute before returning to her duties.

  The confused god turned away from her, while the Knights tried to understand what had transpired. Mortals couldn't see souls, could they? Maybe she could grant them sight? No, they were at war. She was fighting. Maybe after the fight? That made her sad. When the fight ended, her god expected to die. That meant she would die too. Or whatever happened to the souls of dead gods. Maybe she would be released and left to wander? That could be good. Maybe she could be a hero? Oh, is it heroic if the dead are the ones who save you? How would she know the person she saved deserved it? She might be able to ask other dead, but did the dead lie? Oh, but she knew when people were bad, didn't she? Just like her god.

  Thrall nails broke her armor and dug into her mana flesh. Realizing her mind had wandered, she focused on the now. The fight. The deserved vengeance of those slain by an evil demon.

  May's technique improved during the battle. She took a step, and she was on a giant imp's shoulder. Her sword went through its equivalent of a temple, and the hulking brute crumbled under her feet. She stepped off to appear behind another imp and hamstrung it. Her blessed blade cut through mana flesh like fingers through cobwebs, doing severe damage to the thick-skinned monstrosities.

  On the cusp of taking another step, May was interrupted by long thick nails bursting from her belly. The nails spread, and she felt herself ripped apart. She couldn't scream from the pain, a pain that refused to end as she felt something fundamental to herself being pulled in two directions. The demon was trying to claim her, but Biyu kept a tight grip on her soul. An eternity of pain passed. Suddenly, she went from pained and dazed to whole once more. As if the pain had been a brief delusion. Blood smeared the surrounding ground. Her sword was just over there.

  The beast that slew her was turning to ash, slain by lances of golden light. It took a touch of Biyu's mind, and she understood. Although most of her body was her original flesh, she was a thrall now. Deciding not to think about the fact that she had died, she grabbed her sword and returned to the fight. Soldiers who saw her fall stared as she stood among the living once more. Knights, both from the guard and the Order, looked on in awe.

  They rallied behind May, while Biyu fell back, no longer able to fight these monsters directly herself. Instead, she granted May greater power. May's blade gleamed purple with poison aspect mana. Her body buzzed with power. She could feel herself pressing against an advancement, and she took it. Even if it was built on borrowed power, she needed it now. The consequences could be dealt with later. Her wind, a piece of herself, spun around her. She appeared and disappeared, spending power freely, and with renewed strength she savaged another imp. They were smaller now, man-sized, a horde sent to overwhelm them.

  May managed the line. Where a soldier faltered, she appeared to deflect a fatal blow. Where a soldier or Knight failed to land a killing blow, she attacked to give them another opening. Sometimes, she took an opening herself. Soldiers still died. She couldn't save them all. But, many that would have died were saved. Some fell back to be treated by a handful of healers of all types, either to return to the fight, or to retire and prevent the demon from stealing their soul.

  Biyu returned to the fight now that the enemy was man-sized, working her way through the lines to strike at targets of opportunity. Where she stood, the imps charged her. They had identified her as the other demon.

  There were flashes of light, and Knights of the Order of Holy Lances decimated the horde. By now the enemy should be ready to change tactics. Most likely it would flee the city. May could feel Biyu's impulse to not allow it. May weighed her options. This force of demons was a blocking force. The demon could afford to expend more souls here, though May, Biyu, and the wraiths could only capture a handful of them. Her Master had been getting a steady stream of power throughout the fighting.

  May and Biyu prepared themselves to go with the Order of Holy Lances to kill the demon itself. They were about to announce their intentions when her skin prickled. She felts a sudden surge of panic from Biyu, as her Master turned to look behind them.

  The soldiers, one by one, turned to look at the approaching figure. The Knights bowed their heads. Snarling imps, a new band recently arrived, backed away from the striding figure in gleaming armor. It was ornamented and filigreed with white gold. A lance, in its simplest design, was held in its hand. It looked ten feet tall, but she was sure he was only a little taller than her. It was a being who radiated power. An aura of golden light engulfed him, and from within it, she could see an endless array of lances poised to strike, their tips directed solely at her. This was true power. All who beheld him understood without being told. Here was a mortal god displaying his power.

  At a gesture the divine being smote the horde. All the imps were pierced simply because he willed them to be so. They didn't puff into smoke but were burnt in an instant. Not even ash and stink was left behind. The soldiers rallied once more, joining the cheer of the Knights. The battle had pivoted further into their favor. In another part of the city, the sky turned to night before it fell. Brilliant stars crashed into the city with a scream, and the ground beneath their feet heaved with the impacts. The night cleared back into a clear late winter day.

  When the god set its eyes upon them, May flinched. It stared at her and Biyu for a long hard moment, but a Knight put himself between them. Seeing that, the deity dismissed them and turned to the city. He strode forward, and soldiers and Knights followed. Groups broke off to clean up clusters of imps trying to break into residences to feed on the people within. May trailed along with the soldiers, helping where she could. Biyu came with them, renewing her blessings on their weapons stronger ones. She was unsteady on her feet, her power beginning to hit another threshold of power.

  May knew what Biyu was thinking. Of course she did. She was a part of her now. They had been given a reprieve while they were helpful to the war effort, but they would die after this. She was certain of it. Well, May had already died, but she'd be with Biyu in the Hells. The living gods of the Empire had seen her for what she was.