Souls Online: Mythic Ascension-Chapter 273: Chalice of the Faithless

The Demon of Faith screamed.

Not in pain, but in fury. The sound tore through the cathedral, a discordant choir of mouths echoing its rage from every wall and corner.

"Wretched heretics!" it howled, voices overlapping in chaotic reverberation. "You grovel beneath foolish, pitiful gods! They do not hear you! They will not save you! You are insects crawling toward an empty altar!"

It reeled back, several mouths frothing with black ichor as it raised its arms. From a gaping maw near its chest, a glistening black chalice was vomited forth. The object shimmered with a dark, corrupted light as the Demon caught it in both clawed hands.

"This is the end," the Demon snarled, lifting the chalice high above its head. "The Chalice of the Faithless shall drink your hope. It shall—"

Nothing happened.

No thunder. No flame. No blinding surge of power.

Only silence.

The Demon of Faith froze, mouths faltering mid-word. The chalice quivered in its hands.

"...Why?" it rasped. "Why is there no offering?"

It waited.

Still nothing.

The mouths began to mumble, disoriented and confused.

"There should be no faith in you. No tether. No light. You are alone. You are insects."

Its limbs shook. A horrid gurgle escaped its throat as it turned its head slightly, sensing the shape of the ones standing before it.

And then it stopped.

Its many mouths fell silent, still parted but unable to speak.

Something had changed. Something in the air. Not seen, but unmistakable. Not heard, but undeniable.

There was faith here.

Not blind faith. Not ignorant belief.

But something deeper. Stronger.

The Demon did not understand it. Could not fathom how these creatures, these mortals, could be tethered to anything greater than themselves.

It stood locked in stillness, chalice still raised, mouths trembling.

The demon’s mouths opened and closed as it tried to find an answer. That was when it noticed auras coming off of each of the heretics before it.

One tasted of Fire and Metal, another of a bountiful forest, one of ancient lizards, Roses and Blood, Spiders and Lies, Shadows and Justice, The taste of War, but it was the last one that made it know true fear.

The one who spoke as the leader of these heretical insects had an aura that tasted of everything yet nothing at the same time. That was supposed to be impossible. There was only one such being in existence with that authority.

’You have messed with the friends of my blessed one.’

The sudden charming voice echoed quietly in its ear.

’You threaten those children’s lives and you dare ridicule me and his chosen? You have antagonized the very gods you called pitiful and and doomed to die.’

The Demon did not have eyes but it could now see the truth. The faith that these intruders had was not their faith in the gods but the faith the gods were putting in them!

The Demon of Faith staggered.

Its clawed feet scraped against the cracked stone floor as it stumbled back a step, the chalice still trembling in its hands. The voices in its mouths faltered, no longer howling scripture but muttering in broken tones.

"No," it whispered. "This cannot be. This is not how it was meant to unfold."

The aura that surrounded the group pressed against its mind like a weight, thick and suffocating. It could feel the divine threads binding them. Not from worship. Not from prayer. But from something else entirely.

The gods were watching.

And not from afar. They were close. Present. Their gazes pressed against the fabric of reality through these mortals who stood defiant in front of the abomination.

Rachel stepped forward, her staff raised again, but she did not swing. Not yet. Her tail twitched behind her, sharp eyes narrowed as she watched the creature’s trembling hands.

Crystal’s grip on her sword tightened. She didn’t speak, but her frost spread subtly beneath her boots, a quiet warning that she was ready.

Greg growled, low and deep, his fists clenched at his sides.

’You who view yourself as a pious being shall face the consequences of your hubris. Before you stands the last of the Titans, The Elder Vampires, The Child of Nature, War, Justice, Truth, Dragons, Sky and the Void.’

The voice was not loud, but it echoed with finality. Each word landed like a weight dropped from the heavens, undeniable and absolute. The air itself seemed to still in reverence.

The Demon of Faith trembled.

The chalice in its hands cracked. Thin black lines webbed across its surface as if reality itself had grown tired of bearing its blasphemy.

It tried to speak. The mouths moved, but no sound came. Not even a whisper. The presence of that voice had burned away the scripture clinging to its form, stripping it of the power it once wielded.

The Demon of Faith fell to its knees.

Bone struck stone with a hollow crack. The shattered chalice at its feet bled black ichor that sizzled uselessly, offering no power, no salvation. Its mouths moved in silence, unable to call upon prayer, unable to conjure meaning.

It felt the gaze again. Not from the heretics standing before it, but from something beyond them. Something vast and still. The air grew heavy with presence. Something ancient. Something watching.

Then, within the hushed hollow of its mind, a voice spoke.

Not aloud. Not for others to hear.

Only for it.

You have overstepped your bounds.

The words came soft. Measured.

Each syllable a stone dropped into a still pond.

Not wrath. Not scorn.

Judgment.

As the Goddess of the Void and former Keeper of the Balance, I render this verdict.

The Demon could not answer. Its limbs twitched. The whispers of its mouths were dead on arrival, lips parting with no sound.

’For your transgressions, I sentence you to....

A tremor passed through its form.

Not from fear, but from the finality.

There would be no battle.

No appeal.

No after.

The voice continued with quiet weight as it said the final word.

Extinction.