He Who Fights with Monsters 11 (He Who Fights with Monsters, #11)

by Shirtaloon

“We like to think we’re better than we are,” Jason said. “I’ve had to confront the fact that I’m not, but I’ve also seen that I can be. It takes discipline. Diligence. Determination. Recognising that while sometimes you do have to compromise, other times, you don’t.

“The way we treat people always matters.

“That’s too much responsibility.” Jason grinned. “I know, right? You get used to it. With a good support system and enough therapy.” “You’re joking, but this isn’t a small thing you’re putting on me.” “Yeah. Joking helps, trust me. I tried being super-serious and I turned into an angry prick.”

If you rush because you think you should—or someone else thinks you should—then not only will you work slowly, but you’ll work badly. If you rest, you’ll work better and make fewer mistakes.”

“What’s this?” Hana asked, looking at the quivering rod Clive had pulled out immediately on her return. “Grab it, please,” he said. “I can’t leave it just flopping around in the grass.” “Then perhaps you shouldn’t have taken it out.” “I need it to be ready when I go to use it. So, would you please just grab it for me?” She frowned but put her fingers around Clive’s throbbing shaft. “I don’t like this sensation,” she said. “You’ll get used to it,” Clive assured her. “I’ve found that most people come to enjoy how it feels. I think it’s the girth that puts them off at first.” “I can handle the girth. I’m just not comfortable with it throbbing in my hand like this.” “Even so, you should just use your hand until you know what you’re doing. Use both hands if you prefer.” “I think you may be overestimating the length. What even is it?” “It’s a threshold resonator. I can’t have it too close to the other devices until I’m ready or it’ll ruin their calibration.”

“I know how god’s grace relics work, Mr Standish. Even if Purity is fallen, I do not like the way you are treating such objects.” “Are you going to do something about it?” “Not right now.” “Then I don’t care. Now, the great thing about Purity’s holy power is that it does all manner of interesting things when you taint it. I had no idea why that worked rather than dispelling the purity power, until it turned out that Purity was the god of disguise this whole time. That way, it makes more sense that the holy power adapts when altered rather than dispersing⁠—” “Is there a point you’re trying to make, Mr Standish?” “No. I was trying to work while the priestess watching me kept asking questions in an increasingly judgemental tone.”

“The big deal,” Jason said, “is that on the other side of this mountain is a replica of Casselton Beach, which a bushfire will rip through. Including the ice cream shop.” “What?” Farrah yelped. “Okay, hold on. There’s a fire and we need to stop it. This is fine, it’s all going to be fine. Right, I can absorb fire to get mana back. I just have to absorb all the fire and everything will be okay. You two can deal with the monsters.”

Helping people isn’t about getting benefits, but it does seem to have a lot of them.

“I’ve been putting up with this staring-into-the-middle-distance sad boy routine for a long while now because, yeah, some crappy stuff happened. But now it’s time to put on your big girl pants, fight the bad guy and save the day. There’s even a princess out there to rescue, so get off your butt, make some reference we don’t understand and get moving.”

Neil and Dustin shared a look as the anthropomorphised rabbit paced back and forth over the elevating platform, its low muttering punctuated by regular bleeping sounds. “This is strange, right?” Dustin asked. “I know that we’re adventurers roaming through a strange unreality after battling an undead army deep underground to win a tree by breaking the universe, but…” Dustin trailed off and Neil gave him a curious look. “But what?” Neil asked. “It’s fine,” Dustin told him. “When I say it all out loud, suddenly, the rabbit-man who makes weird noises when he swears and the giant carnivorous radish aren’t that outlandish.” “It was a turnip.”

Durrum marched across the room to loom over the rabbit. “You know how this place works,” he said, more accusation than question. “Yep,” the rabbit said, not bothering to look up at him. “Also, can you back off? You’re twice my height, which leaves me looking at a bag of rocks. Congratulations on what you’ve got going on there, by the way, but not what I want hanging in front of my face.”

“Those are the words of a man who has not watched his civilisation die. Who has not seen nineteen out of every twenty get massacred. I don’t want to be better. I want victory. I want vengeance. I want to scour the world of everyone who came to my home and killed in search of plunder. Who used the bodies of the people I love as fertiliser to grow more killers. As meat to build deathless abominations. If I have my way, I will drive every messenger to the most painful death I can manage, the moment we’re done with them. I will hunt every cultist, yank the metal from their bodies and beat them to death with it. I will burn every priest and stamp their ashes into the mud until I’m sure that they’re dead. I will kill and kill and kill until all that is left is the knowledge in every place and every people that this is what happens when you come for the brighthearts.” Neil looked at Durrum, the big man’s eyes wet with tears. He said nothing.

Belinda’s mother was long dead or long gone before she had any memory of her. Her father spoke of her rarely, and only while in his cups. Sometimes he said she was dead, other times run off. Belinda had never gotten the truth and didn’t much care either way. She’d never shared Sophie’s curiosity on that front. Belinda didn’t hate her father. He’d been a good enough one by Old City standards, especially in the early days. While a regular drunk, he was never a mean one. Even though they had trouble enough getting by, he’d taken in Sophie after her own father had died, without so much as a word of pushback. However bad things may have gotten by the end, Belinda would love her father forever for that. He’d done the best he could for a daughter he knew was far smarter than he. Teaching her to read was as much education as he could provide, but he tried. He was always scrounging, scraping and bargaining for books, even when they barely had enough to eat. They were tattered, mouldy or water-stained, often with the cover missing. A couple had been loose pages he’d crudely bound back together with string himself. She remembered the pride on his face every time he produced a new one.

Most were sloppy about security, especially with the kind of magic basics that they didn’t even consider valuable. To Belinda, they had been precious. She took great pleasure in giving the books a home where they were more appreciated.

Working as Clive’s research assistant had been a life she’d never imagined possible. There was more magical knowledge to delve into than she had hours of the day to do it, with no one to tell her not to. She continued to serve as his assistant on and off through her adventuring career. With every passing year, she became less of a student and more of a peer. For all of that, even years later, there was a part of her waiting for the truth to drop. A voice inside, telling her that she didn’t deserve any of it. That deep down, her friends knew that she was still nothing but a jumped-up street thief. She took things she didn’t have to; did things that hurt the team as if subconsciously testing them. Waiting for the day they realised she didn’t belong and sent her packing. She leaned her head back against the tree, her hair getting mussed as it rubbed on the bark. Tears trickled down her face, the mocking expression on it directed at herself. She only realised her uncharacteristic inattention when she heard footsteps in the leaves behind her. She sprang up on alert, turning to find a messenger standing in front of her. It was the quiet one whose name she still didn’t know. The one she wanted to get rid of before enacting her plan. He wasn’t floating in the air the way messengers did, but that was not the change from his normal appearance that left her startled and disarmed. She didn’t react as he moved forward and gathered her in a hug, his bushy moustache tickling her ear.

Biscuits?

Belinda’s plan had seen some positive modifications with the revelation that her biggest obstacle, the quiet messenger always watching her, was actually an ally.

Biscuits!!!!

“We also need to decide what to do with the last messenger,” Taika said. “The one with the bags of body parts. That’s creepy stuff.” “Taika,” Belinda said, “you just tore a lady to pieces with your bare hands.” “It was more like tenderising,” Taika said. “Humphrey did the actual chopping. Plus, I saw worse stuff working in a slaughterhouse when I was a kid. That messenger blood looks like it came from a craft shop.” “You killed animals for a living?” Humphrey asked. “No, I just sold drugs.”

“You know I’m right here,” Jason said. “You’re talking about me like I’m not in the room.” Jason and Farrah stared at one another until they both broke into grins. “Okay,” Jason said. “Now that you’ve all met Edgelord Jason, let’s move on to what comes next.

“You’re saying the captain shouldn’t go on the away mission.” “I have no idea if that’s what I’m saying.” “Would it help if I put on a red shirt?” “I hope you talking nonsense means you’ve decided not to go risking your neck.” “It does. You’ve talked me around, Tactical Commander, but I at least want to participate in clearing the territories some more. The anomalies are getting feisty and I haven’t had the chance to fight enemies like this for a while.”

“Is there a problem?” Dustin asked. “I’m a four-foot rabbit wading through mud that’s knee-deep on a tree-trunk prick like you. Of course, there’s a problem.” “You’re not very likeable,” Dustin told him and resumed his path forward.

“You call Durrum Pebbles, and Gary a lot of things.” “So what?” “So, they both have names and you’re going to start using them,” Neil said. “They’ve both made incredible sacrifices while you were sitting in a bunker, playing with lightning. As of the moment I drop this privacy screen, you are going to treat them with the dignity they have more than earned.” “Or what?” “Or when we leave this place, you go one way and everyone else goes another.” “You’ll kick me out over some nicknames?” “I’ll kick you out over disrespecting the people that have earned our respect the most.” The rabbit stared at Neil from where he was half-submerged in the muddy water of the flats. “Fine,” he said, then started pushing through the water and out of the screen.

Barely seconds passed between the aura appearing at the edge of the territory and reaching the group. Only the gold-rankers had a chance to intercept it, but it avoided them with blink teleports to slam into Humphrey, bowling him over in the long savannah grass. Gold-rankers swarmed them, only for Humphrey to hold out a forestalling hand from where he lay under Sophie. “It’s fine,” he said. “Not a mphflm…” His words were muffled by pressing her lips onto his. “SUCCUBUS!” Belinda screamed as she arrived with the silver-rankers. “Kill it!” Sophie rose to a mounting position over Humphrey, then turned to give her friend a flat look and a rude gesture.

“Because they’re power mad? I bet a lot of them are lonely guys, angry at the world because girls won’t talk to them. They convince themselves that worshipping the god of zombies will somehow make women fall for them because we all like bad boys. But it’s never their fault, no. It’s the world that’s unfair, not their inability to take a shower, comb their hair and talk about anything but how much better they’d be than actual adventurers if only they were given the essences. It’s not like there aren’t women with low standards out there, but they can’t even make a modicum of effort.

Incels...

“Probably for the best. Neil, I know that everyone else on our team is flashier than you. Fiery swords and flying tortoises and clouds of magic butterflies. But we see how good you are. We can only step forward the way we do because we know you’re standing behind us. Covering our mistakes. We’re an odd bunch, and we need a steady dose of reliable to make it all work. You just proved in a whole new way how reliable you are, and I don’t say it enough, Neil, but thank you. For being amazing.” Neil looked at Jason, wary for signs of mockery. Jason didn’t look at him at all, staring out the window with a weary gaze. “Thanks,” Neil said, his voice uncertain.

Healers... Clerics... Yes...

Velius rolled his eyes. “Surely you have a preference.” “I will confess a soft spot for the name ‘Keeper of the Sands.’ I like the hourglass imagery.” “See? That wasn’t hard. And that’s a great name. If it doesn’t pick a name, people will just call it what they like. I once heard someone call your master ‘the Underclock.’ That’s just terrible.”

He is a seed that the World-Phoenix planted, but he has grown in ways only the All-Devouring Eye anticipated.

What do we care if he becomes another original? There are more of them around than most of the astral kings realise And they rarely cause any trouble.”

“Asano has started to touch intrinsic-mandate magic.” “So? Also, how? He’s still mortal.” “One of his familiars is an avatar of doom. He has already taken steps towards it becoming a Voice of the Will, forging a bond beyond summoner and familiar.”

Lehenik.

“You’re going to make more like me?” “Yes. I believe I know how, and the opportunity is startlingly close. I don’t want you to go through life with nowhere and no one to belong to. That would be cruel.” “I don’t know how to feel about that.” “Me either. Someday, there’s probably going to be a bible with you and me featuring heavily in the early chapters.” Jason stopped in front of a tree, plucked off a red fruit and offered it to the rabbit. “Apple?” The rabbit gave Jason a flat look but took the fruit. Jason picked another for himself and they continued on. “Nik,” the rabbit said, contemplating the sound. “Nik. Nik. Nik Asano?” Jason gave the rabbit a side glance but did not interrupt. He bit into his apple instead.

Astral kings are rare, but they are also immortal, which complicates war. You can ravage their resources, but you cannot kill them. They exist as universes forged from souls, which remain inviolable. They may only be a fraction of the size of universes created by the Builder, but they cannot be destroyed and they do not fall to entropy, however long you wait. There are too many astral kings for anyone to keep track of. Over time, as the number of astral kings rises, the Unorthodoxy astral kings have been slipping back into the general population.”

“Transcendents are all immortal,” Boris said. “Not just ageless, like us, but truly unkillable. They have their own level of interaction, as above us as our cosmic community is above those living their entire lives on some rock, hurtling around an ember. Diamond-rank is the threshold. The borderland between them and us.”

Maybe a common theme among Transcendents in Aethon books?

“Everything you’re saying makes us seem so small,” she said. “Yes,” Boris agreed. “The concept of messengers as the ultimate beings of creation, the messengers of the cosmic will, is laughable. A truth that all diamond-rank messengers realise eventually. That’s the greatest danger they represent to the astral kings. And when they realise that the brand on their souls means they can never become astral kings, that danger becomes unacceptable. The astral kings either have to accept them and remove the brand, or put them down. Of course, removing the brand doesn’t mean a diamond-ranker will just leap into transcendence. Most diamond-rankers set free to become astral kings fail, just like essence-users or any of the other half-transcendents floating around the cosmos.”

Boom!! Down Goes Frazier!! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZEIMQ42-oU

“We should use a ritual to preserve them,” she said. “It’s a waste of resources.” “I took their lives,” Boris said. “I can at least leave them their dignity.” “You sound like one of the lesser races,” Fiola said. “Now that we’ve come this far,” Boris said, “that is the last time you say ‘lesser races’ in my presence.”

Damn Skippy...

“It’s just power with no intellect behind it, now that Garth’s dead,” Jason told him. “You’re good at playing sly, but you showed your hand a little killing him like that. You played us like duelling banjos and I don’t want to end up like Ned Beatty with you telling me to squeal like a pig.” “Really? You’re going with Deliverance? That scene? Not a classy reference. I thought Battle of the Planets or A-Team would be more your speed. Oh, you’re checking if I really have been on Earth. Well, I have. For a lot longer than you.” “Good to know, but that’s something to get into later. What are you and your friends up to?”

The orbs floating around Gordon turned blue. “That means yes,” Jason explained. “Okay, here we go with the incantation: ‘When worlds end, you are the arbiter. When gods fall, you are the instrument. Herald of annihilation, come forth and be my harbinger. I have doom to bring.’” “That’s the incantation you used to summon a familiar?” “Awesome, right?” “Awesome? It sounds like you’re trying to destroy the world.” “Ironic, I know. Given that saving the world is kind of my thing. And he isn’t even my apocalypse beast familiar.” “What?” “Getting back to the incantation⁠—” “Apocalypse beast?” “Don’t worry about that.”

Colin took on a childish, sullen expression, kicking at the red desert dirt. “I bet if we fought the god of sandwiches, you’d eat it,” he grumbled under his breath. “Colin…” “What?” the familiar asked, lifting his head with a challenging glare. “What did I do wrong? I haven’t eaten any babies, even though they’re really easy to catch.” Jason sighed. “I’m sorry, Colin. I know you’re always a good boy.” Colin looked mollified and Jason reached out to touch his arm. Colin dissolved back into blood and was drawn back into Jason’s hand in a single moment, like water sucked into the vacuum of space. “Well,” Jason said. “That didn’t go how I hoped. Anyway, we were talking about the summoning incantation for Gordon, my other familiar.” “What’s the summoning ritual for the blood monster like?” “Probably best I don’t say. And I told you to call him Colin. He really is a good boy.” “You realise most people don’t need to point out that they don’t eat babies.” “Well, in fairness, he didn’t say he doesn’t eat babies. He said he hasn’t eaten any babies.” “Isn’t that the same thing?” “Not exactly. It’s like me never having gone to Vitesse. It’s not that I’m a person who doesn’t go to Vitesse, just that I haven’t gone to Vitesse. Yet.” “You’re saying he’s going to eat a baby.” “No, I don’t think he’s going to eat a baby. Once he starts, he’ll probably be eating them in job lots.” “Now I’m going to need you to tell me what’s in that summoning incantation.” “I don’t even remember it properly...

Clive and Farrah approached Jason and Miriam, still watching Gary fight the avatar to a goopy standstill. “Thank you for coming,” Miriam said to them. “Even if it’s completely unnecessary,” Jason muttered. “What exactly is the issue?” Clive asked. “Jason was explaining⁠—” “Ah,” Clive and Farrah both said, nodding. “I’m not that bad at explaining things,” Jason said defensively. “Let me guess,” Farrah said. “He starts not entirely on-topic, heading in the rough direction of a point as he tries to give context. But in the middle, he offhandedly mentions something ridiculous like getting into a knife fight with the Builder⁠—” “I was the only one with a knife,” Jason interrupted. “—or killing blood cultists by making them argue about gender roles in the workplace,” Farrah continued, ignoring him. “I don’t know what that means,” Miriam said, “but that does sound like the pattern I was encountering. Did you both know he has an apocalypse beast?” “Colin?” Farrah asked. “Yeah, he’s a good boy. You can’t let Jason distract you with that stuff. He’s way too excitable over running down every conversational tangent. And he loves talking about himself.” “I do not,” Jason said. “Jason,” Farrah said. “How many times have you died now?” “That’s actually an increasingly tricky topic. I was talking with the goddess of Death recently, and I⁠—” “Also, he likes to name-drop,” Clive said. “What was he trying to explain in the first place?” Jason called a cloud chair out of the shrunken cloud fl...

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he said. Party leader [Jason Asano] has been compromised and is unable to maintain his abilities. Party has been disbanded and party interface has been revoked. “Uh… that might not be great,” Neil said.

“I want to fight, you know I do. I just don’t think I can.” “If the spirit is willing, do you think it matters if the body is weak? In this place? You think that’s air you’re breathing?” “I’m not breathing. Wait, did you just quote The Matrix?”

“You think that you are at your limit, Mr Asano, but the will has no limit. The only way that your will can be exhausted is if you choose to quit. If you give up on yourself, on your friends, on all the people taking shelter here. You think you cannot fight, but you are fighting. Every moment you don’t surrender, the battle goes on. You think you have exhausted your willpower, but it cannot be exhausted. Will has no limit so long as you have the resolve to keep fighting, keep standing.”

The Builder once tried to convince you that was the case through pain. It was a lie because he knew that all you had to do was tell him no forever and he could do nothing.” “It didn’t feel like nothing.” “No, but it was still a lie that you might surrender your soul. And now you are telling yourself that lie. Giving yourself an excuse to give up. To surrender to the pain. We need you to embrace that pain, Mr Asano. To accept it and the fight it represents. Do you have the resolve? Or will you surrender Colin to the god of Undeath? Will you give up on Miss Wexler’s mother, on everything left of the brightheart people?”

Jason stood with eyes closed, shutting out everything. He set aside his sense of the world around him, his own body. His emotions, his exhaustion. Reaching a state of empty mind, he was even able to set aside the pain. Each thing he set aside was left for him to examine in his state of meditative calm.

Mindfulness

“What are you doing?” the rabbit-man shouted. “I summoned Voltron, obviously,” Taika shouted back. “You summoned vehicle Voltron!” Nik accused. “It’s the best Voltron!” “I’m a month-old rabbit who’s never left the pocket universe he was born in and I know that’s the worst Voltron.” “How?” Taika asked. “I don’t know. I think knowing that vehicle Voltron sucks is a fundamental aspect of my species.” “Yeah, he was created by Jason alright,” Farrah muttered. “Can we please stop talking about Voltron and go fight some evil?”

Stash did not follow Humphrey’s example of fighting normally, as much as the shape-shifting dragon did anything normally. He turned into a massive version of Humphrey, as large as the avatar and Taika’s robot. He had a bushy moustache and was naked other than for a sandwich board with VOLTRON written across the front and back. “DID I GET IT RIGHT?” giant Stash bellowed. “Still not the worst Voltron!” “Shut up, rabbit!” “STASH!” Humphrey roared. “Put on some pants!”

“Hey,” Taika called out. “Does anyone know how to attach a chain gun to a pogo stick?”

Stable platform.

“Get back to what Jason has done to himself,” Clive said. “You said he’s been blanked somehow? What did you mean by parts of him are missing?” Boris answered in place of Farrah. “There are conclusions we can draw based on what we’ve seen here and what the Reaper’s child and the lovely Farrah have described.” “Might I suggest,” Shade interrupted, “that you avoid harassing one of Mr Asano’s most precious friends while he is in the middle of a rampage using the same mechanisms as a god does when performing a miracle.” “That is an excellent point,” Boris said. “Anyway, I believe that Asano has given over his mortal aspect to the part of himself that is becoming an astral king. But that astral king part is incomplete and his mortal aspect is too weak. He’s in danger of losing himself.” “I know,” Jason’s voice said. “Scary, right?” They turned to look at what looked like Jason standing behind them in his blood robes.

“That is what we need,” Shade said. “Something from Mr Asano’s very core. Something so intrinsic to who he is that it remains a part of him, no matter how much of himself he casts aside.” Farrah paced around, rubbing a hand over her tired face. She froze when her eyes fell on Nik. “Something intrinsic,” she said. “That’s right,” Shade said. “To connect him with the aspects of his identity that he set aside, we need to find a fragment of his original identity that he retains even now. Something fundamental to who he is.” Farrah grinned.

The connections stopped. It felt a loss but was unsure why. Then they came back, with one message, not the scattered meaningless garble of before. This was singular, speaking to a part of Hegemon that it did not realise remained. Something buried deep within itself, like the key to a lock. He heard a voice and thought of strawberry blond hair and a savage smile. “Vehicle Voltron is the best Voltron.” Hegemon felt something surge up from within. A response, driven by a part of itself it did not know still existed. Well, that is some bullsh⁠—

Colin slammed into him, wrapping him in a hug. “Oh, hey, buddy. You did good.” “I’m so glad you’re back,” Colin said. “Me too.” “I want to eat people again like normal.” “He meant to say ‘eat like normal people again,’ right?” Neil asked. “Sure,” Jason said unconvincingly. “All I’ve wanted to eat since this started is sandwiches,” Colin complained. “It’s been awful.” “I know, buddy,” Jason said, patting him on the back. “I haven’t thought about marinating Neil’s thighs this whole time.” “Wait, what did he just say?” Neil asked. “Don’t worry about it,” Jason said. “I’m extremely worried about it!” “Neil, it’s fine,” Jason assured him. “Colin’s a good boy and he’s done very well. Which is why he deserves a treat, and since you’re a healer…” “Absolutely not! I want a soul portal out of here right now.” One popped up right next to him, and he immediately all but jumped through it. A moment later, he came back out with a glower on his face. “Jason,” he said through gritted teeth. “Yes, Neil?” Jason asked as Colin finally let him go.