The Redo of a Novel's Villain: Moira - Chapter 33: Chapter 33

Elijah ran down the hall with quickened breaths. After figuring out the trick locating the bombs was a breeze let alone dismantling them. With three down and two more to go, the whole situation seemed to be going smoothly. He entered the library, a bit wary of any students hiding from the crowd or off to enjoy an hour or two of quiet free time. Fortunately, Eelia seemed to smile down on him that day as he didn't come upon any living presence.
He settled somewhere in the centre, took a deep shaky breath, and spread his mana. The familiar vision too complex and shapeless to understand formed in his mind. Even though he could see just fine, it was as though an over-saturated film laid over. And amongst the terrain of aurora-like waves... Elijah felt conflicted.
Confused.
He knitted his brows and frowned. What was going on? Where was it?
Elijah shook his head and scanned the area once more, perusing through the ocean of colour, but as nothing turned up and his mana was stretched thin so did panic and fear. A deep-rooted fear. That of uncertainty. The one thing that scared him the most ever since coming here. Not death, not pain, not demons nor monsters nor man.
Uncertainty.
Because what if? The mere possibility of something outside of his calculations was terrifying. Plot deviation was inevitable, he knew that. The butterfly effect was a thing, and he knew that. But surely... surely this wouldn't have changed? How?
He clenched his fists and let go of the grasp he had on the magical lines overlapping through space. After cutting off the connection everything reverted to normal in a blink of an eye but this time vertigo overtook him as he wheezed. His mind spun as his brain spewed out excuse after excuse.
Is he in the right place?
Did he remember wrong?
Did he need to check more?
He racked his brain, his heart thumped, and he felt cold sweat germinating on his back. Taking a deep breath, Elijah recommenced it again. The view of the swirling colours invaded his senses and he tried so desperately to find anything out of the ordinary. There must be something—a clue at least.
He caught onto something.
It was brief, vanishing quickly but it was there. Like a fish checking out the hook, he could feel the reel bob from the stimulation. And from what he could tell from that brief point of contact, it was up.
Elijah ran forwards. Through the multitudes of bookshelves, seats, and desks. He arrived at the other side of the library where a spiral staircase led to the second floor that was more like an indoor balcony. He booked it up the stairs despite his lungs' harsh protest. Physical fatigue paled in comparison to that of mental, and he was desperate. Arriving upstairs without so much as breaking a sweat 'aside from the creeping disconcert, he surveyed the space around him.
The upstairs library was mainly a place to explore astrology and other such practices; evident by the murals painting the marble floors, large armillary spheres, and astrolabes in the centre directly under a large glass dome. He peered upwards through the vault displaying the oddly clear night sky for winter. Elijah waded through the pile of books and scrolls strewn on the ground and cautiously walked past the machines.
There was something odd about the place. Nothing dangerous, but an odd sense of déja vu that he can't quite put his finger on.
Footsteps echoed through the chamber as he searched through the layers of mana to no avail, and as the seconds ticked by Elijah's impatience began to thin. Perhaps he did remember it wrong, or maybe sensed lingering remnants of the bomb, or even possibly a demon. Either way, the chances of the bomb being in the library began to become less and less likely to him. So what was he doing here, wasting time? He should be dismantling the remaining ones, not letting paranoia eat at him.
Elijah sagged his shoulders and turned to leave. Three steps in he whipped around towards one of the shelves with narrowed eyes. It happened fast, so fast he swore he would've missed it had he been a millisecond later, but he didn't and he was positive.
Someone was there.
As if on cue to the realization, a sudden surge in the surrounding mana waves made his heart drop as he forcibly cut off the connection he had with the area as though it were fire. He clenched and unclenched his fist as his unfocused eyes lingered on the spot where he saw a fleeting shadow. Elijah squeezed focus back into himself as he digested the sensation that invaded the calming waves of mana and caused his own to spike.
It was time.
The demonic energy that permeated through the air subtly like odourless poison inflicted a deep unnerve within him. With no time to waste Elijah booked it to the nearest exit and headed in the direction of the theatre.
KABOOOM
A sudden explosion shook the walls and ground as he stumbled from the abrupt collision. The low rumble thrumming beneath and around him made furnishings fall and pent-up dust fall from the ceiling. He cursed, desperately hoping no one got caught in it. Elijah sprinted through the hallways and without having to know where he was he knew he was close. How? The screaming ruckus of panic sounded loud and racking.
Arriving above the source of the commotion—one of the theatre's many indoor balconies—Elijah's face paled. Lo and behold the attack had begun, but something was vastly different. The demons that were attacking were a type of demonic beast known for their versatility and danger. They were wild, savage, and worst of all... powerful. Too powerful, in fact. Those beasts aren't supposed to make an appearance now, never in fact! Never like this! Those beasts, those monsters cannot be controlled nor governed! They are savages blinded by blood lust through and through and would rip through their own kin! Why... Why were they attacking the school?! On the first invasion too!
His trachea clenched up as he watched the demons destroy the stage and leap at escaping students barely protected by the professors present. A wild clash of weapons against claws, magic against demonic energy, and the holy light of priests fending off the dark miasma emit from the demonic race overtook the place. Many of the third years joined the fray while the rest helped evacuate fellow students. He could even see the form of Sorin and the others clearing the way for others.
He watched as Sorin's aura-enhanced blade sliced off one of the demon's arms, but watched in anticipated horror as the gorey stump warped and distorted before forcing out a newly grown one, void of flesh but rather a grotesquely pale bone dripping with visceral body fluid. The claws swept down, slashing everything even metres away from the point of contact and although no one got hurt, the damage was devastating.
Anxious, Elijah scanned the pandemonium for any signs of Kayson or Nicholas, but neither could be found. It was then a thunderous noise rippled through the air and stunned everyone, even the demons if he had to guess. A capricious and powerful tremor ripped and tore through the ground, the walls, the ceilings, and the air. It was like it shook the entire world as Elijah felt his legs give out from under him amongst the intense swaying as he barely caught himself on the railing. Vertigo and nausea instantly hit him and his heart thumped and his lungs contracted and his vision swam and all he could hear and feel was numbness and a blank. The ringing in his ears rang sharply like knives grating against a board as he gaped. Elijah hardly recovered from the great roar that passed through his body when cognizance hit him.
He choked out a gasp. "The bombs!"
Sending a worried gaze into the chaos, Elijah stamped down the fear crawling its way and nesting in his guts as he ran in the opposite direction of where his friends were. Everything was a mess, he expected it, but not this drastic! Was it all his fault?!
He wanted to slap himself. Chaos theory! Of course! Why hadn't he considered the butterfly effect more?! It's highly possible since he was the one supposed to leak information to the demons so they can find a way inside. But without him, the demons would've taken a far more drastic approach to breaking in. So it was his fault? People's lives were gonna stain his palms again and their cries and agony and—
Elijah slapped his cheeks. Focus. He ordered.
What he needed to do was to find any remaining bombs and dismantle them. Since this whole invasion has deviated from his range of calculation the possibility of more bombs could not be ruled out. He tried to sense them like before, but the vortex of mana made it impossible. He was blinded, deafened, senseless in that torpedo of endless currents of mind-breaking saturation. Everything was messed up from the chaos, which meant he had to find them by luck.
Ruling out the places he checked before and any ineffective areas, Elijah came up with some theories about where the bombs could be placed. His pace did not slow even though his limbs begged for a break and his lungs to capsize any moment then. He did not stop.
'KRIIIEE'
A loud shriek erupted from above him and a bat-like creature swooped down at him with large venom-dripping fans. Its feral red eyes littered its entire body with abyss-like fur. Elijah evaded the swift attack, grabbed a nearby candle from off the walls, and shoved it into one of the creature's many eyes. The bat squealed in pain and he took the advantage to give it a good zap before running away. There was no time to deal with the beasts especially when the threat of explosions was still at large.
Many more of these wandering demons tried to attack him, but he managed to temporarily incapacitate them all. It was a marvel and a stroke of luck really. But as though the heavens were mocking him another explosion erupted, a bigger one than the last which Elijah thought was near impossible. The pulse of this one flashed by in an instant, followed by a whump of physical contact as he slammed to the floor. Pain bloomed from his nose as he vaguely registered the sensation of warm fluid dripping down his face and onto the floor in slow pitter-patters of red. A nosebleed, he wiped it off with the back of his sleeve, ignoring his fatigued body's screams from the reaction of such an intense impact.
Suddenly, he heard shrill screams coming from in front of him. Elijah snapped his head upwards to see a group of first years on the ground (most likely from the earlier quake) and a dangling chandelier above their heads, struggling to latch on... until it didn't.
Adrenaline pumped through his body as he pushed himself forward using a combination of wind and electricity just in time to smash the falling chandelier with a well-portioned kick enhanced by the spells. The broken glass from the impact flew into the air, slicing through his skin and a particularly larger piece lodging itself into his thigh. He winced in pain as he roughly landed on the ground before rolling to a stop. His bones ached from the fall as the motion forced the glass to sink deeper into the flesh.
Tears welled up in his eyes, glossing over them, but he allayed them to look at the students he saved.
The small group of friends were bewildered with large eyes stretched wide in astonishment. The lot of them remained in place, still not having recovered from the shock and barely registering what just happened. One of them stumbled for words, however, Elijah swiftly interrupted.
"What are you waiting for?! Get up and leave!" He barked out the order harshly. Watching intently as the group jumped before scrambling away. He too began moving.
Grabbing onto a piece of his shirt he ripped it off in a long torn strip. He did it twice, balling up one of them and stuffing it inside his mouth as trepid hands made their way around the glass shard embedded into his thigh. He grimaced when the contact sent a sharp sting of pain thundering through his nerves. Taking deep, shaky breaths through his nose, Elijah pulled.
Instantly he blenched when pain shot up and bit at the edges of his well-being, nipping and napping at his nerves like starved animals. He groaned at the shard's resistance that gripped his thigh. The entry and exit ripped through his leg, the stimulation tearing him asunder. Warm, thick blood oozed out of the wound in copious amounts and with one hard-willed tug did the glass come out and clatter to the ground beside him, stained in scarlet. Elijah wreathed in the aftermath, biting down hard on the ball of cloth in his mouth. Teary eyes glowered at his own palm hovering above his festering wound.
He really didn't want to do this.
He squeezed his eyes shut, and placed his palm against the bloody mess as pangs of volts and electricity spread through meeting points. The tingling sensation that he's gotten used to and learned to find safety in delivered strong, brutal waves of agony and ache. He yelled in pain, tears streaming down his face as the edges of his skin burned and calloused. Only when a minute that felt like an eternity passed did he allow his hand to flop torpidly to the side of his twitching leg.
Electric stimulation to help aid in recovery is a last resort but an unpleasant method. He groaned.
Despite the pain, the youth gave himself a brief reprieve and with no time to waste, Elijah quickly bandaged the wound in a makeshift gauze before standing up limply. He resumed his search for the remaining bombs—if there was even any left—his brain supplied, but it was better to be late than sorry. Nevertheless, the boy knew it was merely a quick—almost clumsy—patch that'd last an hour at best if he didn't want an infection. With a steeled resolve, Elijah was off.
Somehow he had picked up on a unique demonic energy amongst the surplus of it; possibly because he was closer to it? It was a deep pulsing vibration, much like the bombs he had defused before but much, much stronger. The violent force emanated from below, so he supposed it was in the basement. How the demons got down there he didn't know and neither did he have the mental capacity to deal with the hows and whys.
Cringing from the pain, Elijah knocked open the doors which were fortunately unlocked: either by evacuating staff members, damage to the door itself, or demons. The youth stumbled down the stairs while grasping onto the handle on the wall as he navigated through the dimly lit hallway connected to dusty storage rooms. As he proceeded he couldn't help but notice the direction he was going in... seemed to head straight for the theatre. If this arbitrary thought was true... Elijah gulped and increased his pace.
The closer he got to where he assumed the bomb was, judging by the energy radiating off in waves, the worse he felt. It was like this specific explosive contained radical amounts of power and destructive force that'd suck all life caught up in its grasp into the spirit world. Syphon souls into the afterlife through barbaric means.
He would not let this be.
He wobbled by the wall, allowing the structure to guide his direction when at last, his target was right in front. Located in a storage room used for stage props, the instrument needed to conduct mass slaughter was right behind the flimsy old wooden door splintering at the ends. His hands floundered for the handle and pushed it open in haste. Elijah's guard was up, but his eyes did not once leave the glowing red fruit-like item in the centre of the room. The intensity of it reflected ruby shadows onto every surface it touched, so much so some could even argue it returned his true eye colour back. Maddening.
Elijah approached the bomb, cupping both of his hands over it but not quite touching. He allowed his mana to flow for the umpteenth time that day as he began to disassemble the explosive. Sweat streamed down his temple in thin droplets from his hazy focus, body tense, face scrunched up, and hands flexed in a stone-cold rigidness. Decoding the bomb was like a password sequence of calculations. The numerous interlinked lines of densely condensed demonic magic needed to be encapsulated in his own aura as a way of separating each thread. Afterwards, precise control is needed to untangle and overwrite the commands of every single component.
The boy licked his lips in anxiety. From being in such close contact he could accurately sense that the bomb, glowing in its sepulchral blush, dripping out its form of presage in wispy smog and mist, was near ready to ignite. He gasped sharply from a particularly harsh rejection that stung his palm and squeezed his chest in a painful grasp, but he continued. For if he stopped then in less than a dozen minutes the place would go up in a coalescence of flames and sulphur. Then rather than the future prospects of Evendale, all that would remain shall be a void hole; half of the prestigious academy sunken into the ground. For the discomfort he felt now compared to that future, one would be insane to deem it exorbitant.
His arms shook. 'So...Close.'
The agitated cloud surged and seethed the further he pressed on, much akin to a caged rabid animal urging to burst out. A drop of sweat trickled down his head, sliding down to his chin and reflecting the churning mass of energy.
Drip
His attention snapped back into awareness. A slow rolling discomfort pooled in his guts.
'...Dripping?––
A beast lunged towards him ferociously with outstretched talons and a grizzly screech. Elijah fell to the side in a botched attempt at dodging, yelping when the disconnect from the bomb sent a scalding heat wave at his mana core. The boy scrambled upright, hissing in pain as he felt something wet soaking his left arm. The pungent odour of iron infested his nostrils and the passive humming coming from the bomb spasmed alongside the ringing in his ears as though in celebration. He must've been mad thinking of jesting sounds rather than the thing before him.
Bulbous in its entirety, the demonic beast sported thick coats of obsidian fur. Barely canine-like in appearance, the creature had six limbs. Its pale white bones contrasted sharply against the body of black as it protruded from its back in dagger-sharp spikes and s razor-sharp claws. A broken resemblance of its skull stuck onto its face, glowing red orbs shown from the empty sockets and dark oozing liquid dribbled out of any orifice without end. It trailed the skull and left it with stains, dribbling onto the floor in rhythmic splats.
Elijah held his breath as his eyes widened in terror. Suddenly the pain he felt in his arm, leg, and everywhere numbed against the sheer pressure it—he—permeated. He swallowed with difficulty.
He recognizes him. Albeit never having seen him in person (until now) he remembers a passage noting the vicious battle between Sorin and the monster: The Curator of Decadence, Firion.
Well, at least a part of it.
Firion was a dominator of his kind. He was an ancient and intelligent being belonging to Asmodeus' court. There'd hardly be any possibility for him to go along with this attack on students no matter how much he despised humanity. Technically speaking, he was a ruler, why would a ruler snarl rabidly and aid in this attack as one of the pawns?
Elijah maintained eye contact in strained tenseness, for the moment he moved the stand-off they had would be instantly broken.
He heard tales of Firion once becoming sealed by an equally ancient being: Ishim, the Angel of the Hunt. The fight wounded both immortal beings fatally, but in the end, Ishim succeeded and fragmented Firion. Legends say once all fragments gather the ancient being will be resurrected and havoc will wreak once more. Prior to the novel, he thought this to be a myth to scare children, heck he didn't even know if Ishim was real. All documents about divine beings were scarce and rare, the church hardly disclosed any information and he doubted records of this angel would even be known if not for unearthing ancient tri-empire artifacts. But that's beside the point.
What he saw in front of him now was most likely a small fragment of the late Curator of Decadence, one without a fraction of the true Firion's strength and intelligence. Even so, he knew he would hardly put up a fight with it. Not when his body is suffering from wounds and the threat of the bomb encroaches the longer this drags on. The best bet he has to escape alive would be to grab the bomb and make a run for it.
But...
The fragment growled ominously, snapping its mouth in provocation. Elijah felt sick.
How?!
As though fed up with toying Elijah the fragment rushed forwards in a flurry and he was before him, jaw outstretched and the stench of iron and death invaded Elijah's senses as his mind spiralled. The youth leapt towards the bomb, escaping the sickening fate of his bones snapping by a millisecond. Dizzy from blood loss, he held onto the ticking time bomb and used his good arm to throw whatever it was he could get his hands on at Firion's fragment.
Abiding by his expectations it did not work. Heck, the monster didn't even bother dodging as his thick hide blocked it all. Elijah continued backing up and throwing random objects at him to no avail. Twisting his body, the youth kicked a fallen desk to the fragment and ran for the door. Wind and electricity coated his body, enhancing his speed, and bringing him closer and closer outside. Amidst the whooshing in his ears, he could hear the desk being shredded in half and an aggravated roar. He did not look back.
Elijah knew the moment he made it out the door he'd have a much better chance of escaping than in the tiny cramped and enclosed storage room. All he needed to do now was to leave the room.
He's so close, his heart skipped a beat, he's...so close..!
His will sank. 'I'm not gonna make it.'
He felt a sudden shift in the atmosphere and he ducked. Instantly a large claw swept the space his head was moments earlier and a chill ran down his spine. If he hadn't listened to his instincts his head would've been cleanly taken off. Elijah did not enjoy the thought of it. He'd rather keep his head and neck attached. Thank you very much.
He launched a powerful spell at the fragment, but the defence treated his magic like toys. The electricity fizzled out and the wind dispersed. All it seemed to do was agitate the beast more as dark shadows churned in the ground before shooting toward him. Still upkeeping the speed enhancement, Elijah managed to dodge it but not completely. A spike lashed his cheek and blood mixed with a dark substance oozed out. Great, more blood loss.
At this point, Elijah thought he might pass out then and there if not for the adrenaline pumping in his veins. His entire arm was numb in a painfully needling way and his vision swam. He would for sure meet his end that day if he doesn't manage to flee soon, either from the monster, the blood loss, or the bomb exploding.
As though in response the thing in his arms pulsed and set his nerves aflame with disconcert. How long had passed? Not long probably but the bomb won't take long to detonate either. Clenching his teeth, Elijah continuously dodged, sent a spate of attacks, dodged, and repeat but to no avail. The fragment blocked the only path of escape with its hulking body and bloody resistance, offering the boy no opportunity to attack and if he did—it did not work.
"Fuck you." He seethed and rolled out of the way of another downward slash, but not avoiding all of it. He was exhausted. His body was littered with wounds, his clothes were ruined, he had a fucking bomb on his person, a part of an ancient beast king toying with him, and he had no idea if his friends were okay or not. If he can just somehow bind the fragment for even a second he could possibly find an opportunity but it isn't letting him!
Wait.
Bind?
He gulped, there was only one chance at this. He stared at the monster snapping his jaw at him tauntingly then tightened his hold on the swelling bomb.
And prayed.
A long snaky stream of electricity shot out and wrapped itself around the fragment in thick, snake-like coils of current. It did not damage him, but it was enough. Elijah took the window of opportunity and booked it through the door in a wild trance. As he had hoped, because none of his attacks so far had worked on him he hoped the binding spell he made would also be ignored, but fragments are incomplete beings that are erratic in nature so who knows. Fortunately, his attempt worked, even if he could feel the fetters snapping one by one by the strength gap. But he wasn't so stupid to not predict that.
He aimed another rope of thunder toward the ceiling and glared straight into those billowing orbs of red.
Elijah smiled maniacally. "If it's an explosion you want, it's an explosion you'll get!"
With that said he sent a torrent of flames to run up the other rope, sparks sprinkled the air in copious amounts and the fragment lunged towards him maw wide open with glistening fangs. Elijah hauled his weight back and hurled the bomb into the thing's mouth. On instinct, the piece of Firion closed its jaw with a loud snap with hardly a mind to comprehend what had happened. Too blood-crazed to even notice the cracking ceiling caving in until it was too late.
The chilling cry was cut short by the rubble which meteored the sky, slamming into the large surface area of Firion and rapidly burying him alive. Elijah ran, his face awash with fear and desperation. Hurrying down the lengthy debris-filled hallway the youth counted the seconds with each incessant plea that spilled from his lips as he covered his ears and shut his eyes so tightly he could see white. From the first change, he felt he burst into a random room and fell into a low position.
First, he felt the roiling chaotic energy permeating the space twist and thrash fiercely, then he felt it converge so abruptly it felt like he might've been sucked along with it, then... a flash of light followed by a violent expansion broke through the pile of debris with a mind rattling burst of noise. It left his being blank, the shockwave spearing through him it felt like his body had split. If he wasn't already before, he was definitely deaf now.
It didn't take long for the booming rumble and thundering noise to cease. Even so, Elijah cowered there for a good couple of moments. He gazed into the dust-covered ground in shock, his legs felt weak.
It worked.
A dry laugh burst out from his bloody lips.
It worked..!
He gasped and sobbed in succession, a frowny-smile stuck to his features as the tension seeped from his body and he collapsed onto his back in weak relief. After all of that, any control he had over his body failed and the spell giving him his old appearance melted off of him before dissolving into nothing. His mana returned to his abused core.
Huey's raven dark hair was messy and dusty and every inch of him was either covered in blood, scratches, bruises, or grime. He grimaced lightly, having half the mind to just stay there. Fall to the process of the fatigue weighing on his bones, but the smarting pain on his thigh and arm convinced him otherwise. With much more effort than he thought was possible, Huey got up and stepped out.
Against his better judgment, curiosity made his return to the scene of carnage. The scorched burn marks and rubble strewn around were a sight to see. It was impeccable good fortune that neither bomb carried any radiation or else he probably would've died three times already. His eyes landed on the gooey darkness in front of him. The remains of the fragment, he concluded. A smirk made its way onto his face.
"Even a fragment of a Beast King can't escape a great inferno huh?" He laughed and turned on his heel.
Drip
Huey came to a stop. A chill froze over his wounds. Gingerly, he touched his cheek and felt something tangy and thick in density and of an iron odour. He brought it to his vision and seeing the splash of black made his stomach plummet.
Drip
Another one fell, this time onto his shoulder. He felt lightheaded when he looked up with dilating pupils. Right above him, clinging onto the remains of the ceiling was a very wounded but very much alive fragment of Firion.
✦
Sedent and paralyzed in this timeless time frame, Huey witnessed it in agonizingly slow motion.
The beast pounced at him, horrification ailed the youth: there truly was nothing he could do.
Overcasting him were the looms of death once more for the third time, but shall this one be the last?
Patent it was, for no one shall prater fate and if this is his––he closed his eyes.
✧
Nothing came. No pressure, no pain, nothing, and he doubted the enemy would've given him a swift painless death. Especially not after he just blasted his insides. So what's going on? He wearily blinked his eyes open. Nothing above. He looked to the sides. Nothing around either.
Firion... was... gone?
To say Huey was confused is an understatement. But whether or not the enemy was truly gone or it was just a new game for the hunt, the youth did not want to stay and find out. Turning on his heel, he left.