The Deceiver's Path - Chapter 149 - Eyes in the Treeline (Patreon)

Author's Note: Sorry for the late chapter, but I've been really sick the last couple of days.

Piper stood there, trying to look as queen-like as possible, as she awaited a response to her claim that she was the heir to the Infernal Realm. The harroth demon holding its talon against Zenos’ chin stood frozen, while the other watched with narrowed eyes.

“Well,” Piper said, lifting her chin slightly. “Will you serve me?”

To her complete shock, both demons shuffled back before dropping to one knee. “We are loyal to Elaraxa,” they said in unison, their voices like grating rocks. “We serve her daughter.”

“Excellent,” she said. To be honest, she had no idea what to do next, since she hadn’t expected her plan to work.

She shot a look over at Ophelia, hoping for guidance, but her friend gaped at her.

“You’re a fricking princess?” Ophelia gasped. “Like a real princess?” Her gaze then traveled over to Lysander lying motionless in the snow, and she let out a strangled cry.

Piper rushed over to Lysander’s side, any thoughts of what to do with the demons momentarily forgotten. Before she reached the man, she recast [False Face] to change her appearance to human once more. Her friend joined her at Lysander’s side a moment later, and they gently rolled him over.

The dark-haired man’s eyes fluttered open, and his bloody lips twitched up into a smile. “You’re harder to kill than you look, gravebait. I should have known you’d survive a mob of demons.”

At the mention of demons, Piper raised her gaze to scan the forest. These two harroths weren’t the only ones out there. And if the others chasing the sleighs returned, they might have a serious problem on their hands. And who knew what else was lurking in the woods?

“I had a good teacher,” Piper said, forcing a smile.

“Ha,” Lysander laughed before his face twisted with pain. “Check my pouch for healing potions.”

Piper scrambled back and dusted off the snow until she found the buried pouch. However, her hope faded as she realized one of the harroth talons had sliced cleanly through the pouch before continuing into Lysander’s body behind it.

With bated breath, she opened the flap and rummaged around inside. Little remained of the potions, apart from broken glass. After a moment, she pulled out a single, unbroken vial. “There’s only one left,” she said quietly, shooting glances over at Zenos.

“I take it from your expression someone else is gravely injured? Just my luck.”

“What do you want me to do?”

Lysander descended into a coughing fit, and blood spurted out of his mouth. He gasped for breath, his fingers clawing at the icy ground. Finally, the coughing faded, and he panted as if he’d run a mile. “Give it to your sister or Zenos. Whichever of them was stupid enough to get injured.”

Ophelia leaned forward and took his hand. “I… I shouldn’t have run off. But you can’t die. You need to take the healing potion.”

“And ruin my perfect streak?” Lysander chuckled. “No way, gravebait.”

Piper nodded and clasped the healing potion to her chest. She took a step toward Zenos, only for Ophelia to jump up and grab her arm.

“You can’t give it to him,” her friend cried out. “You have to save Lysander. This is all my fault!” Her lip quivered and her eyes shone. It looked as if she would burst out crying at any moment.

Piper peeled Ophelia’s fingers off. “He made it clear that we should give it to Zenos. We have to follow his wishes.”

Ophelia thrust a finger in the noise mage’s direction, where Sarnyxia was tenderly wrapping a bandage around his midsection. “Look at him! He’s going to try to kill you the second he’s healed.”

Zenos was glaring at Piper, his lip curled up into a half-snarl. His hand shook as he grabbed Sarnyxia’s hand with his bloody fist. “Did you know she was a demon? Did you?”

The demoness shook her head. “I’m as shocked as you are.”

“If that’s true, do your duty as an adventurer,” he wheezed. “Deal with the threat. She-she killed my sister!”

“Oh yes,” Sarnyxia said, staying in character. She took a moment to tie the bandage around his wound. “I’ll attack the demonic noble who just defeated the monsters that laid you low. That sounds like an excellent way to end our existence.”

“I must have vengeance for my sister!” Zenos slumped back against the sleigh’s runner. “I can’t live under the same sun as that monster.”

Piper walked over to his side and recast [Void Silence] to make sure it stayed active. She didn’t want any surprise attacks from the mage. And while her spell was active, he was virtually defenseless.

Zenos eyed her, his breathing becoming more ragged. “Was everything a lie? Everything we shared? Our friendship? Our plans for the future? Have you been the infernal caster this entire time?”

She nodded and felt a lump forming in her throat. For some reason, she’d clung to the belief that she could somehow make it up to him for the death of his sister. But any chance of that happening had likely disappeared the moment she revealed herself as a demoness.

“I-I don’t think I was the one who killed her,” Piper said, the words tumbling from her mouth. “I ordered my demons not to hurt anyone. The nuns were killing aspirants in the chaos, and some people were trampled—”

“Do you think I care about your excuses?” Zenos barked. “I swear if you give me that potion, I won’t stop until I have your head.”

“You can’t hurt me,” Piper said flatly. “And if you try, you’ll only get yourself killed.”

Zenos turned to look plaintively at Sarnyxia. “Why won’t you help me? I know you were friends with her, but so was I. And she murdered so many innocent people.”

The demoness took a step back. “Please give him the potion before he dies. He’s fading quickly.”

Once more, Ophelia grabbed Piper’s arm. “I can’t let Lysander die because of what I did. Please, Pip. I’m begging you.”

Piper stood there, frozen with indecision. She owed Zenos for her complicity in the death of his sister, but in healing him, she’d create yet another dangerous enemy who wanted her dead. But Lysander wanted her to give the aspirant the last healing potion.

Coming to a decision, she knelt at the noise mage’s side. She held the vial up to his mouth. “Drink,” she ordered him. “This is what Lysander wants.”

“No, Pip!” Ophelia cried out, anguish in her voice.

While it was clear from Zenos’s expression he’d rather do anything else than accept her help, he finally lifted his hand to take the vial. But before his hand had closed around the glass container, his strength failed him and his arm dropped.

Sighing, Piper shrugged off Ophelia, who pawed at her desperately, and lifted the potion to pour it into his mouth. She averted her gaze as he looked at her with pure hatred burning in his eyes.

Once she had emptied the vial, she took a step back to wait for the potion to go to work. The blood poured back into his body and fresh skin regrew over his visible wounds. While the potion wouldn’t heal him completely, it should do enough to keep him alive until they reached the town.

Piper mentally ordered Sarnyxia and Gretch to watch over Zenos while she hurried back to Lysander.

At her approach, Lysander chuckled again. “So, you’re the fabled infernal caster who took on the entire city and won? I should have known. How’d that old dog Niko recruit you, anyway?”

“He promised me a normal life within the guild.”

“That’s a pretty cheap price.”

Piper smiled before looking away as a tear ran down her cheek. “He also promised me a pony. A pony that I haven’t received yet.”

“There’s your mistake,” Lysander said, his voice fading. “You should have asked for payment upfront. Damn, gravebait. You never think before acting.”

The man let out a sigh, his eyes opening slightly. “At least I won’t travel alone in the afterlife. I feel the emperor’s presence.”

Ophelia broke down as sobs wracked her body.

Piper reached out to take Lysander’s hand. She had no idea how to console Ophelia, and for once, she really didn’t want to. No matter how she tried to explain away her friend’s actions, she couldn’t stop herself from blaming Ophelia for what had happened. Not only had she been exposed, but their guide had been mortally wounded.

Ophelia crawled forward, placing a hand on Lysander’s shoulder. “Please don’t die. Please…”

The man didn’t reply and let out a long sigh. His body shuddered once, and then he stared sightlessly into the cloudy skies.

Lysander was dead.

Ophelia sank to her knees at the man’s side, her face twisted with grief. “This is your fault,” she screamed at Piper. “You let him die!”

“It’s my fault?” Piper repeated, her voice rising. “You’re the one who ran off like a lunatic. You’re the one who wouldn’t turn around when I told you to. His death is on your head. If you had just listened to me, none of this would have happened!”

At her words, Ophelia collapsed to the ground. “You’re right. I’m the worst person in the world. Why was I so stupid?” She tossed her weapon aside into the snow. “I don’t deserve this sword. I don’t deserve anything.”

Rising to her feet, Piper tottered over to the sleigh, her chest tightening uncomfortably. It felt like she couldn’t breathe, and for a moment dizziness assailed her.

I failed to protect those I care about again, she thought to herself darkly. Once more, I wasn’t strong enough.

Behind her, she could hear Ophelia crying uncontrollably, but she had no desire to comfort her friend right now. If they had stayed at the sleighs like she wanted, she could have averted this disaster.

“I have to go after Vespera and the other slaves,” she said, pulling an arrow from her quiver. Then she remembered the remaining sleighs desperately trying to escape the harroths. Would the other demons react the same way as the ones here? Or would they attack her on sight?

Frowning, she tried to figure out what to do. So many lives hung in the balance right now, and any decision she made would likely result in more deaths.

The cracking of a twig made her look up, and she took a step back at the sight of dozens of robed figures standing along the forest edge. Each of them wore a hood to cover their face, with a triangle cut out to see through. The garments were dyed a deep crimson, with the image of six eyes emblazoned on the front.

As she watched, more and more emerged from the trees, while demons appeared among their ranks. Some of the infernal creatures she recognized, including harroths, shadelings, and imps. But there were others she’d never encountered before.

A shaggy creature strode forward on eight legs, almost looking like a terrible amalgamation of a spider and a bear. Instead of an arachnid face, it had a twisted maw bristling with sharp teeth. And every long limb ended in thick paws.

The eight-legged creature radiated power she’d never encountered before, and a quick [Identify] revealed that it was level 434.

Ding! Your skill, Identify has reached Level 24.

Ding! Your skill, Identify has reached Level 25.

“Ophelia,” Piper said, backing up until she reached her friend sitting in the snow next to Lysander’s body. She reached down to touch her shoulder. “Get up. We need to leave. Now!”

“You should let them take me,” her friend said miserably. “I’m the worst.”

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” Piper snapped. “This isn’t a game, Ophelia. They’re going to kill us!”

Before she could say anything further, [Ambush Detection] blared in her mind.

Ding! Your skill, Ambush Detection has reached Level 14.

Spinning around, she jerked back as Zenos’ war hammer swung toward her face. As she sprang away, a hand shot out to catch the weapon.

Sarnyxia gave the war hammer a twist, and then gently shoved the off-balance Zenos. The man staggered to the side for a few paces before finding his footing. He glared at the shadeling hidden behind a human illusion.

“You’re taking the monster’s side?”

“My only desire is to keep you safe,” Sarnyxia explained as if she were talking to a child. “Now, will you behave, or must I take more severe measures?”

“If you want to stand by a monster, so be it,” Zenos spat. “In the end, she’ll murder someone you care about, too.”

With that, the young man pivoted and limped straight toward the cultists. He raised his hands and shouted, “I want to join you!”

Piper took half a step forward but then stopped as the demons began their advance. She pointed at the harroths, who still hadn’t moved. “Can you please convince them to join our side?”

But the demons didn’t respond. Their eyes had turned glassy, and they slowly turned toward Piper.

Sarnyxia took Piper’s hand. “There is another exerting influence over them. We must leave.”

“Crap.” Piper bent down and shook her friend. “Did you hear her? We have to leave! Grab your sword and let’s go!”

Ophelia dried her tears with the sleeve of her shirt and then felt around in the snow for her angel sword. When she lifted it, the blade had reverted to a dull metal. And Piper felt nothing from the weapon.

A charging imp didn’t let her ponder the change in the angel blade. She drew and loosed, and the arrow punched through the demon’s skull. A notification followed.

Congratulations! You have slain an Imp, Level 101.

“Oh no,” Ophelia whispered.

“What now?” Piper exclaimed, sprinting away from the wreckage of the sleigh with her friend in tow. When she looked back, motes of brilliant light swirled around the young woman.

“I leveled up,” Ophelia whispered. “I’m going back to the Celestial Realm.”

“What else could go wrong?” Piper muttered as a battle cry went up from the cultists. As one, the robed figures charged forward, lifting crude weapons and farm implements over their heads. Now that she thought about it, she really didn’t want to know the answer to that question.