Born a Monster

Chapter 233

233 Servant of the Axe – Girdle Sewers

Chapter Type: Conflict (versus others, social)

[Spell: Spirit Ward has been acquired]

It had better be a powerful spell; it had taken every point of four different cultivation methods. On the plus side, salt was common.

“Hey, we can enter the sewers now. I can create an actual Ghost Ward.”

“Or not.” Said Kismet.

“Do these ghosts possess treasure?” Madonna asked.

“A valid concern.” Gamilla said.

“I don’t think so.” I said.

“Pass.” Each of them said in the same order.

.....

“Okay, I’ll just do recon tonight, and come get you if they actually have treasure.”

“Sounds like a better plan than getting all smelly for nothing.” Kismet said.

Well, I suppose I couldn’t blame them. Ghosts aren’t easy to dispose of, or else they would be. Ghostslayer is a profession for a reason.

And, I had no clue how powerful these three actually were. Ten percent of a major spirit was still a lot.

On the plus side, I had a map, which SHOULD lead me right to them.

The sewers of Boadicea’s Girdle have locks that only open from the top, and those lids are heavy. Coming from the top, and possessing a crowbar, that was only a problem if I was down there long enough for some well-meaning simpleton to put the sewer lid back on and lock it.

Kismet was right; the smell was nauseating, dealing substantial serenity damage before I finally adapted.

Left, right, right, left, and wooden door on the right had already rotted through. Nothing more substantial than a rat blocking the way.

I cast the Spirit Ward across the doorway, and then entered. There was no actual building, although fragments of wooden walls protruded from the uneven sand, one from the pool that covered over half the floor. The entire chamber was lit by a dull blue glow, which highlighted a crumbling ceiling.

Not a ghost seemed to be present, but this was clearly the proper place. Only by calling the Death mana to my eyes for Mystic Vision was I able to see the root. It took the form of an intangible, invisible toybox, whose lid didn’t quite rest level on the box itself. I could also see the Taint within, gradually spreading like a cancer.

All right, that was easy to fix. Well, maybe not easy, but it was simple.

“Through salt and blood, by lore and will, do I claim this space as my own. I forbid the powers of Taint and Chaos, allowing only such forces as I am attuned to access. I deny Taint access in all of its forms. I am Rhishisikk, Truthspeaker, and walker in the Dreamscape, Shaman of the Blue Flame of Kuma. I deny this space to all powers of which I am not attuned while until the next dawn or dusk. Anti-Taint Ward!”

Perhaps it was the will of Adelose, but the ward went up, and seemed to quiet the Taint already inside.

She materialized less than a thumb-length from my face. “You will STOP THAT right now!”

[You have taken 8 points of Emotional (fear) damage; after ability activation, you have received four points of damage. 16/30 Serenity remain.]

Bleh. So THAT’S why they wanted to stay here in the sewer.

“Get out of my face, or I’ll...”

“NOW NOW NOW NOW!” she shouted. I felt her balling her emotions up for another fear attack.

So, I threw the ghost powder at her.

Ghost powder is made from a mix of ground bone, salt, and iron filings. Even without being imbued (with Death faith, ghosts will eat Life), it’s damaging to them, disrupting the emotional lock that keeps them able to manifest.

She wailed in pain, and retreated to the far side of the lake, where a morose boy was barely visible.

“Look, I’m just trying to talk, here.” I said.

“Suck my dick!” said an angry boy, materializing at groin height to my mouth. So, I powdered him in the groin. After he passed through me, doubled over, I spun to cast some into his buttocks for good measure.

When he turned to continue the fight, I uncorked the holy water. “If none of you can hold a conversation, destroying the three of you is an option.”

“You can’t... YEARRGH!” said the angry boy, who had moved in to attack again.

“I believe you’ll find I’m capable of a lot of things.” I said. “Which one are you, Billy or Stewart?”

“I WILL kill YOU and eat YOUR entrails!” the boy screamed.

“Stewart, relax.” Called the other boy.

I threw up two fingers worth of ghost powder, as Stewart attempted to attack again. He veered off.

“STEWART! Calm Emotions!”

“Good,” said Stewart, “Now I can kill you in cold blood.”

“Slumber.” I chanted, and he vanished off to the dreamlands.

I turned to find the other boy and girl behind me. “So, you must be Billy and Missie?”

“How does he know our NAMES?” Missie asked.

“Adelose sent me.” I said.

“That BITCH!” Missie said, her teeth going round and pointed before returning to normal.

“Look,” Billy said, “Is this about the toybox?”

I pointed at the root. “She wants you to stop storing fear and hatred and death in there.”

“It’s our toybox, was ours before it was hers.” Missie began circling me, trying to gain an emotional advantage.

Billy scowled. “We’re ghosts. We eat what we can, and store what we don’t. Not our fault if people hereabouts only respond to the worst we can do.”

“Okay, what if I could teach you how to make a different storage space?”

“How?” Billy asked.

I held out a bone-handled brush in my open palm.

“Ghost. No hands.”

“Enchanted bone. Necrostone core. You can hold this one.”

Missy picked it up and thrust it into my eye.

[You have suffered an ORANGE critical for twelve points of damage; after armor, six points have been received. 34/40 health remains.]

[You have acquired: Serious Injury (damaged eyeball).]

“Bree-argh!” I shouted, or something similar.

I pulled out a wickerwork circle. “Ghost Trap!” I shouted, holding it up between us.

With a look of fear and shock, and a slurping noise, she vanished into the Ghost Trap.

The brush fell into the water.

“Bitch, daughter of bitch!” I screamed, clasping a hand to the bleeding socket. How had I not lost that eye? “Well, three of you, one Ghost Trap, that’s three sunrises.”

“No!” Billy said, “Not Missie. Please. Look, I’ll pick up the paintbrush.” It took him two tries. “What do I do?”

I took out a cat skull. “I’m going to teach you some runes and some rituals; you teach the others.”

“Let Missie out first.” He said.

she sent.

“Billy, one of you will LEARN or you will all die. I’ve had ENOUGH of your shit.”

“I’ve done nothing to you!” he protested.

“Should I kill only the ones who attacked me? Do you WANT to be alone, Billy?”

He pronounced a curse at me.

“Move Water! Drown Curse!” It almost broke loose.

“Billy,” I said, “Adelose is at her wit’s end. She is willing for all three of you to see the sunlight. There is no time. Either you stop polluting the toybox, or I kill you all. So, I ask again, for the third and last time...”

Ghost tears rolled down his face. “Tell me what to paint.”

He didn’t get it that first night, nor the second (but at least the others took turns and did not attack me). On the third night, Missie surprised us all by making a tiny necromantic battery out of a rat skull she’d picked up somewhere.

“Yes, Missie, that is EXACTLY how you do that.” I said, throwing her an iota of Life. The quest completed, offering its meager reward of quest points.

“How can you draw that small?” Stewart asked.

“Small hands.” She said, slurring the words.

“Okay,” I said, “Now just do the same thing, larger, on the cat skull. One rune on one side, then the same rune on the other.”

By the gods, I was a bad teacher... but by the end of that night, each of them had done it once.

“No fair!” Stewart hollered. “Missie got some life, I want life, too. GIVE ME LIFE OR I’LL...”

He stopped when I held up a palmful of ghost dust.

.....

“Stewart. Just don’t. A few more nights, to make sure you all understand this. And then you can go on living. Or unliving, or whatever it is that ghosts do. And then the lessons are done. If Adelose sends me back here, it’s likely to be with orders to expose all of you to the sun.”

“You’re just a bully!” he retorted.

“I am MORE than a bully. But if all you respond to is fear and violence, then you lose your right to complain when others use that to communicate with you.”

“Adelose never bullied us.” He said.

“Practice this discipline,” I said, “and maybe someday, you’ll be able to speak to her again.”

I only had two nights to verify they had those skills; the Daurian trader finally arrived.