Jules twisted his waist in an odd angle, avoiding a shadowy spear by an inch once again. This thing was getting agitated, so ruthless in its every move that its killing intent couldn't be any clearer. The speed at which it summoned the spears had grown faster and deadlier, not allowing the hunter to think whatsoever. He had to concentrate on staying alive, first and foremost.
"Gosh," Bastien chortled, irritation twirling in the depths of his golden eyes as a shadowy javelin pierced through his left wing, leaving a gaping hole behind, "what did you do to anger that thing now?"
"Nothing. It's most likely my seniors who have incurred its wrath, and this thing can't distinguish between them and me."
"Your seniors?"
"It's a hunter's array."
That was all Jules needed to say for the incubus to get the picture, and the demon responded with a half-amused, half-annoyed laugh. Of course, their shity situation was the result of a half-assed job.
"Then, any idea how to rectify the situation?"
"No, not really."
Knowing how the array was erected didn't change anything in their predicament. Jules had an inkling that getting rid of the mass of resentment would allow them to leave this hellish place, as the array would become unstable enough for beings like him and Bastien to force their way out. The other supernatural beings, which were weaker, would still be trapped inside for a while, hopefully long enough for Cains to adjust the array from outside.
In any case, they still needed to destroy that mass of resentment first things first, and Jules had no idea how to accomplish that feat. He might have an angelic lineage, but he wasn't a holy priest, as far as he knew.
"Can't you, I don't know, feed on resentment or something?"
The question left Jules's mouth as he kicked the cradle up to use as a shield. The next second, it was turned into shards of wood, the delicate white sheet shredded to tatters.
The broken pieces hovered in the air for a moment, time seemingly coming to a standstill. When they finally fell to the ground, a piercing shriek resounded far and wide.
"Holy cow, my ears! But no, I can't feed on resentment," Bastien replied as his eardrums burst under the shrill scream, a smile nevertheless stretching his lips wide. "Well, I think I can see the light out, though. It looks like the main ego has a deep connection to the crackle you just destroyed. Want to bet it's linked to what happened in this manor before it became a haunted house?"
"What's the point of making a losing bet?"
The hunter cocked an eyebrow, avoiding the spears as he bent over to snatch the ragdoll that had been hidden underneath the white sheet, and now had rolled on the floor to his feet. It was wearing a white dress, with frills and crooked bows. The deformed body in linen felt limp in his hand, the black threads of the hair falling between his fingers. It was a crude little thing that, nevertheless, seemed to have been deeply cared for.
"Don't touch that!"
"That's ours!"
"Looks like the main ego has infected the others," Bastien noted, closing the distance to Jules with a long stride. "It's all jumbled up in there, isn't it?"
"Most likely, yes."
It wasn't surprising.
Usually, a mass of resentment started with one strong emotion left behind. It had to be stable enough to allow lingering resentment in the surroundings to graft to it over time, slowly building up into a mass of resentment that affected its surroundings. Before long, it would develop a certain sense of self and cause trouble.
This land, which had seen so much unjustified bloodshed, was the perfect breeding ground for such an occurrence to happen. As for the center of this mass…
"Get your dirty paws away from it!"
"It belongs to our daughter!"
Jules narrowed his eyes. The emotion must have been left behind by the mother of the slaughtered baby, murdered simply because she was of mixed blood. The mother also didn't get a glorious ending, according to the pamphlet. Her death wasn't kind. Yet, the anger wasn't about her own suffering, but the death of her baby.
"Never underestimate a mother's love, huh?"
Although that love had long turned into hatred toward the rest of the world and possessive protectiveness over what it considered to be its kin. It was twisted, having lost everything that once made it beautiful.
"It's not going to be easy to appease this one," Bastien laughed wryly. One way to get a mass of resentment to disperse was to appease its anger. It was a little hard to do with something that resented the society as a whole. "Sorry to bring this up, but wasn't your father the archangel of forgiveness and mercy?"
A frown creased Jules's brow. Still, he nodded.
"How about tapping into that part of your lineage?"
"What do you mean?"
The question drew a dumbfounded look out of Bastien, and he almost got himself impaled, thanks to the distraction.
"Your father didn't teach you?!"
"My father died before he could teach me anything."
"Right, sorry, my bad."
Guilt flashed across Bastien's face. Even if Jules's ability to feel empathy had cooled down, he could tell what was going through the incubus's head. There was no need to feel bad about it. It had been years since his father had died.
"So? Mind enlightening me here? We can't exactly avoid its attacks forever, and I doubt it's going to let us out of this room. Anyway, it's getting difficult to keep up."
The wounds were also piling up. They were easy targets in this empty room, and that thing, unlike them, didn't need to rest and could summon shadowy weapons over shadowy weapons. It was getting smarter in its attack pattern, too.
"It's hard to explain, though…"
A glare, and the demon coughed.
"Darling, I'm not an angel. My ex did open his big mouth and spill the beans about some secrets he shouldn't have, but I don't know exactly how it works."
"Just tell me already."
"Well," Bastien hummed, grabbing Jules's collar to pull him away from an incoming column of spears about to shoot from under his feet. "He said that their celestial roles affect their spiritual energy, and, if intended, those who are touched by it. It influences them, if you will, and they become compliant to whatever the angel represents, be it humility or innocence, especially when said angel is the polar opposite of what the being in front of them is."
"And how do I intend to influence others?"
"That's kind of the part I don't know."
"How useful."
"Oh, please! It's already good I remember that timbit; it's been millennia since I cut ties with the guy! Give me some slack!"
A huff was the incubus's response.
Still, in their current situation, that was their best bet. His father was the archangel of forgiveness and mercy, and Jules should have inherited that celestial role, too, as his son. If he could somehow influence the mass of resentment and make it forgive the wrongs it had suffered…
Then, it would vanish.
It was easier said than done, however.
Maybe he should start by spreading his spiritual energy and covering the room, bathing the mass of resentment in it. The point was not to attack it, but to embrace it. Merciless attacks weren't a show of forgiveness, so he would need to erase the hostility currently permeating his spiritual energy, only leaving a sea of tranquility. That much, he could tell. After that? He'd have to leave it up to fate.
On the bright side, he had enough spiritual energy to fill up the small bedroom for years, if need be.
"I won't be able to defend myself," Jules warned the incubus, the unsaid words clear in the demon's mind. While Jules got up to the task, he would need to protect him, however long it might take.
"Alright, leave it up to me."
Jules nodded and closed his eyes, entrusting his safety to Bastien. He had to tap into his spiritual energy and draw it out, little by little. He cut himself off from the outside world and concentrated on the task at hand. He didn't know how long it took him. Seconds? Minutes? Hours? Days? It was impossible to say, for the concept of time had become meaningless.
When he opened his piercing gray eyes again, Bastien was in a pitiful state. The room was a mess of mauled walls and holed floor, as if it had been battered by a storm for a long time.
—A very long time.
"Awake?" Bastien smiled, his ethereal face bearing the marks of innumerable wounds. His whole body was bruised, and not a single patch of skin had been spared.
"Are you alright…?"
"I've seen better days," Bastien winked.
"How long did it take?"
"I don't know," the incubus shrugged. "The resentment ran deep, and your spiritual energy could only chip at it bit by bit. Let's just say it took time before the main ego lost its will to fight. It begged for forgiveness when it vanished, by the way."
"Is that so?"
Lowering his eyes, Jules stared at the ragdoll. He hadn't let go of it, and it still lay limply in his hand.
Now that the mass of resentment had dissipated, both his and Bastien's wounds could start to mend. The residual shadow permeating their injuries was slowly fading away, as if it had never been there in the first place.
"Shall we leave?"
Bastien's gentle voice snapped Jules from his thoughts. He nodded and bent over to put the ragdoll atop the few debris of the cradle left.
"…What about Sarah? And Balthazar?"
"It's been too long."
So, both had perished. Neither could live for years without eating. It would have been a different story for Balthazar had he not been addicted to his blood. But he was.
"Alright, let's leave this forsaken place."
It wasn't a complicated matter anymore, as the moment they opened the door of the bedroom, they ventured back into the original manor, the one anchored in reality, and not a phantom realm.
"You know what?" Bastien teased as he pushed the entrance door open, the hand trophies on the wall now gone. "I'm craving a beer right now. Even the cheap beer from the amusement park would do."
"That sounds good. I'd also like one, actually."
"It's your turn to pay, though."
A faint smile tugged at Jules's lips.
"I've lost my wallet. Mind paying again?"
The demon's raucous laughter echoed, and the heavy door closed behind them, plunging the haunted house into darkness and silence. An eerie quietness shrouded the manor; no more wails could be heard, and everything became still, as if frozen in a long-forgotten time.
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EDIT: So. Finally. Not completed, I guess? A certain not-so-kind comment on another website made me think, and yep, I'm not satisfied with this end. I'll be releasing a few more chapters to have a better ending for the unedited version. There will still be an extra only for the book, but one that is less, hum, relevant? Still an icing on the cake, but something that will be less annoying. So buckle up, we have a few interesting chapters coming up. Gonna binge-write this weekend, I guess. I'm gonna get killed by my Editor, though. Ergh. Well, whatever. Shit happens.
Sadly, Webnovel doesn't allow you to change your story status, so I can't add more chapters. I'll cram them here instead.