Reborn to Devour: A Demonic LitRPG

[Vendetta]

The clangorous sounds of bells played a terrible tune of defeat to signal my descent upon the chapel. But, to my ears, the wails of Brunswick and the desperation of Armaros was a triumphant tune. Everything had gone perfectly and there was nothing that would stand in the way of my long-awaited confrontation.

I pressed my hand against the chapel doors; the wood burned beneath my touch and the scent of oak caressed me. A strange fluttering hit my heart. Once, the church grounds were a place that brought me great support and comfort. Memories of attending sermons with my family filled my mind. I remember standing towards the back of the church while the priest gave sermons of strength and humility. I knew that my struggles and adversities were not faced alone. There was someone that loved me unconditionally.

Then you showed up.

You were a marble sculpture given life. Each of your expressions seemed like they were carved by the skilled hands of the greatest artists of Greece. Everyone spoke highly of you and you knew it. Your smile caused fathers to lament that you were unable to marry. The fact that you were untouchable made you feel safe. I remembered all the girls of the town gossiping over everything that you did and swooned whenever you passed by.

I knew that you walked by on purpose. You would always smile so wide when we met eyes and we’d all turn away giggling. There was something ethereal about you that the coarse weathered boys that I would one day find a husband in.

There was even a time where I thought I loved you.

The doors toppled over. My emotions caused ever-intensifying flames that poured from my hands and turned the beautiful doors into kindling. I stepped inside; the carpet burning under my feet. A magical darkness prevented light from penetrating the stained glass windows. Only my flames illuminated the chapel to show a limited view around me.

I almost didn’t see them at first; the white robed demons hunched forwards. Their trembling hands were clasped together in prayer.

I leaned towards one of them. Their quivering hands began to shake more violently. My heat caused patches of sweat to form along their back. But, they did not dare look up at me. I was no longer welcome in this place; I hadn’t for a long time.

“Temptation.”

My head snapped up as bright light poured in from every window. Rows upon rows of worshippers filled each available seat on the pews. Their devout hands, clasped together in prayer, all pointed towards the lectern on the far side of the room.

Hideous divinity stood behind that lectern. His white robe, embroidered with gold crosses, rippled across his unmarred frame. He looked towards me with a faint smile that hid the emotions that swam beneath. My heart did not flutter and I did not turn away. Instead, my body grew intensely hot as I walked a blazing trail towards them.

“Our lives are lives that are filled with temptation. Virtuous hearts are often led in precipitous directions by infernal hands. But, to feel temptation is not a sin; it is not worthy of shame or punishment. No matter how strong the pull towards sin or how much pleasure you’d anticipate from transgressing or even how heinous the sin is, as long as your will can remain firm, then there is no sin.”

His voice reverberated through the powerful acoustics of the chamber to rumble through my very essence. Words said with a honeyed tone like they were coming from your best friend, someone that knew exactly what world-weariness afflicted you. It compelled you in ways that little else could.

“But, there is a source of temptation that leads more men to Hell than any other. Women. These fair creatures, weak and prone to carnal sin, are the gilded paths that guide good people to fiery afterlives. I should know, as I nearly fell for it myself.”

No more. I could listen to this no longer. A stream of flame erupted from my palm. A shimmering field of mana parted my flame like a boulder in a stream. Loose embers caught the wall behind him on fire.

“Some of you may think to yourselves, ‘Armaros, a Catholic Priest can only love God. How is it that you could be enticed by such a mundane temptation?’ And you would be right. But, it brings me great dismay to say that many of the cloth are unable to reconcile these two loves. Love is a gift from God, after all, and it is the challenge of men like me to rise above those temptations. Since I understand those temptations so strongly, I sympathized with you all.”

Only a few more steps and I would be within reach. He would finally be silent. He would burn.

“I knew that I had to join Mikha’el on their quest to save you all. You are not bad for slipping. You are worthy of forgiveness. Believe in the Lord’s mercy, believe in Mikha’el’s cause, and believe in my words. Amen.”

“Amen,” said the chorus of voices behind me.

My hands pressed into the barrier and I unleashed the hottest flames that I could into it. Pillars of flame plumed from my mask’s eyeholes, blinding me temporarily. I heard some shouts behind me, but the mana barrier did not balk under my attacks.

“For someone who said they despised my appearance and never wished to see me again, you are staring at me quite passionately,” Armaros teased with a small grin and frigid eyes. “Have you been well, my Lilith?”

“I’m standing before you in the ruins of the city you took so much pride in managing,” I said with a chuckle. “There have been few days as good as this one.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed the hordes of slaves that you have brought to my doorstep,” Armaros said with derision. “I also see you have amassed quite a collection of crosses.”

“Priests that have been condemned to this realm are no true members of the faith. I am doing the Lord a service by confiscating His relics from their undeserving hands and destroying them with fire. I just need to add yours to make my collection feel complete.”

I made an effort to lift the amalgamation of crosses so that he could see just how many of his dead brethren hung around my neck. I could see a spark of indignation quickly doused by Armaros.

“Short-sighted and childish,” he accused before turning his attention to the worshippers. “Let this be a good example between a simple failure of goodness and inherent wickedness. You who were good, but simply misguided, have reflected upon your life and strove to live in a way that would allow you to rise from this place. This woman before you is unrepentant. Instead of praying and changing, she is killing further and taking the mantle of God’s Vengeance upon herself without cause. Remember this face, as it is the one that leads you away from His light.”

“You were the wicked one!” I seethed and sent more flames into the barrier. “It was you that took advantage of your position and twisted my heart. It was you that slipped into my room and had your way with my sleeping body. It was you that turned your back from responsibility and told me to become a pariah in my home. I was kicked out of my home to give birth to your child on the street.”

“And you killed him,” Armaros snapped in response, his composure cracked. “The only son I’d ever have you cast into the fire. You deserved far worse than what you got.”

I tilted my head back and cackled in Armaros’ face. What a satisfying piece of information to warm my heart with. They all pushed me so far; my family, my community, my God. Even when my soul was snapped, they never once considered their own roles in this tragedy. As they rushed out to the sound of pained shrieks and my own laughter, they thought themselves as the victims.

“He looked just like you. Don’t worry, soon enough, you will look like him again. Enough of this dance to show who was right, Armaros. Your city is finished and I will make you suffer. That is the only truth that matters.”

“I don’t need to stop that barbarian’s army. Your death will be more than enough to send them back to their huts in the fields. This time, I will make sure you are buried so deep you will never dig your way out.”

Flames licked against my hands as I eagerly awaited for Armaros to step from his bubble. But, he didn’t. Instead, I heard shuffling behind me. All of the worshippers had risen to their feet, weapons at their side.

“Once again, be condemned by the community. Kill her.”

They rushed me from their pews to stick their blades into the witch. An inferno erupted from my body, instantly charring the first row. But, they did not cower. The heat from my body ignited their clothing and eat at their flesh. But, they did not stop. They ran over the fallen corpses of their comrades to dutifully harm me.

A spew of fire left my hands and created a tidal wave of ash. Like the disaster of Pompeii, I rained down flaming debris atop of my foes. Many died instantly, dropping limply to the ground in flaming mounds.

They kept rushing at me. In each of their faces, I saw the hateful looks of the townsfolk. I was the devil that dared toy with Armaros’ heart.

“Stop looking at me!”

I attacked indiscriminately. They all had to die. Their bodies doused in flames, dropped lifelessly to the ground. But the feelings of accusation did not leave them. They tilted their heads to face me in death. I stomped down on their heads, turning them into ash.

I felt a slash across my ankle. One of the charred bodies of my first victims had stubbornly refused to die and crawled their body towards me to complete their order. Flesh sloughed off and hung loosely to their bones. Then, as soon as they saw blood steaming out of my ankle, they perished.

My mana was not going to survive this encounter. To save mana, my flames solidified in my grasp, turning from rivers of fire into a condensed whip. I wound up the weapon and flicked it forwards. It hit the nearest worshiper. Their body rapidly expanded and bloated inside of their robes until it reached rupture. It exploded, turning their shattered bones into arrowheads and their boiling blood into searing oil to send their comrades falling dead with them.

But, the lack of total coverage made me constantly whip in every direction to keep them off of me. But, there were still a few that broke through my defenses. Undaunted by the death around them, they plunged blades into my torso before my fires melted them.

The horde was thinning. My condition was unfavorable but not horrible. I would reach Armaros.

Then the doors opened.

More white-robed worshippers stepped out from doors behind Armaros. The carnage that surrounded me didn’t affect them. All they say was a mindless creature that had to be destroyed at all costs, no matter how many times they had to die to achieve it.

“This is how it’s always been, dear!” Armaros shouted as the reinforcements charged me. “When it is you against me, you are always alone. Remind me how your family treated you when you accused me. Did they stand behind you? What about the priest who knew you since you were born? What about your friends that knew you for sixteen years? I was a stranger and they still chose me over you.”

“I need nobody!”

I continued to fight with rage. I just had to kill them faster, burn them with hotter flames. They were not an infinite horde. Their numbers could be overcome.

But I was also limited. I had enough mana to kill them. But, eventually, they would rise from the ground to do this all over again. I still did not know what Armaros’ capabilities were. Even so, I would not turn back.

So I braved more stabs and summoned more flames until the entire interior of the chapel was a forest fire. The pews crackled with flames while wooden statues of Jesus were set ablaze. Yet, Armaros stood firmly behind his lectern, insulated from all of the blood and death and pain that surrounded him.

The glass shattered and a large projectile came screaming to the ground to wipe out the nearest worshippers and turn them both into bloody messes. Armaros and I both turned our heads to see the corpse of a dog-headed Grigori sprawled in the fire.

“Sir Leal?” Armaros asked in shock. “What happened to you?”

Perched atop the window frame was the black scaled hellion I joined hands with. A wicked laugh seeped from his blood-stained mouth as he watched the scene below him. Dancing flames shimmered in his eyes. The severity of the carnage seemed to delight him.

“Satan,” Armaros spat.

“Am I interrupting?”