Neiman scowled at him, his red mouth giving him the appearance of some kind of mad clown.
“You did this to me, not the Black Wood. This forest has been kind to me. It has given me all that I desired for only a minimal price.”
“The forest embezzled Moonfallow’s taxes? I didn’t get the impression that the Lord of Black Wood had such a fine grasp on mortal finance.”
Neiman’s scowl grew deeper.
“No, but it told me when I was in danger of being caught. Gave me the instincts to know who was a danger to me. Helped to make me strong and vital. Made people like me, support me.” He shook his head. “My grandfather was too weak to sacrifice his wife to our lord, and my father loved my mother too much. For that we lost everything. They never realized that the Lord isn’t so picky. It doesn’t need to be our own bride that’s sacrificed as long as we’re willing to make our offerings more frequently, we are still rewarded.”
Solomon had guessed at such a bargain. When he’d seen the women in white and now Felicity dressed in such a way and laying on an altar, it wasn’t a difficult connection to intuit.
“You sacrifice these girls' lives to be mayor of a small town that you were making worse over time. An accomplishment that a man of even limited means and talent would’ve been able to manage without divine assistance and dark bargains.” He shook his head as he drove his walking stick into the ground to free up his hands. “You’re a small man. I’m sure your grandfather and father are looking down on you with disappointment and disgust. It sounds like they were men of actual character to stand against something like that,” he pointed to the looming black-skinned creature. “You forsook the people you were responsible for as mayor and dishonored the memory of your ancestors. You’re a disgusting worm and I feel nothing but contempt for you.”
Solomon could feel his mana steadying as he spoke, the raging ocean of it that surrounded him calming.
Neiman’s eyes began to widen as his face twitched. “Fuck you! You frilly purple peacock. You parasitic piece of shit. You don’t know what it's like to live as no one, you don’t know how high a price you would pay if you’d been stuck in the dirt from birth like the rest of us. The only reason you have survived so far is because of your hidden magic, another boon of birth that you undeservedly hold. You whoreson! You who have never even had to wipe his own ass. Had the Lord not been wary of the concentration of your mana you would’ve already been torn to shreds, your blood used to drown the men and children in your manor before we had our way with the women that were left. I’m going to drive this pick through your skull and see if your blood runs blue or if it's just red like the rest of us! And while you lie there dying, you can watch as the Lord takes your whore here and makes her his. It’s not a pleasant thing to watch, I assure you.”
Solomon clapped, surprising himself with the arrogance of the gesture.
“An excellent array of threats,” he reached into his pocket, grasping a handful of gold coins. “A shame they are as empty as your heart and your skull.”
All reason left Neiman as he raised his rusty pick and began to charge.
Solomon prepared to throw his discus spell in response, but Neiman suddenly stopped, falling to the ground and dropping his pickaxe. He writhed for a few moments, and began to scream.
“NO! Please! Let me kill him! Let me kill him! Let me kill him!”
He screamed for a few more moments before he ceased completely. He opened his eyes and stood to face Solomon. His eyes were fully clouded and his expression vacant.
Solomon turned his attention to The Lord of the Black Wood.
“This one has fulfilled its purpose as well as could be hoped,” said Neiman in a whispery voice not his own.
“You must have a greater capacity for optimism than I do.”
“This one was unable to take full advantage of the gifts that I granted him,” responded the god through Neiman.
“Clearly.”
“You however, seem to be someone that could. I have taken notice of your actions. You seek to restore this land. To make it prosper again. We can work together. I can ensure that your designs for this place go as planned, that all possible enemies are identified before they become a problem, that the men and women of this land are more easily swayed by your words. I can guarantee your safety within these woods, even from those that might hunt person with magic such as yours.”
“And all you’d ask is the occasional sacrifice. A new bride each year? Each month?”
“A partnership requires an exchange. I am Lord here. The bargain I offer you is more than fair. You will find my gifts far more useful than this one did. I sense a great spirit within you. One similar to me. There will be few who could stand against us.”
“You seem to be under a number of misconceptions,” replied Solomon calmly.
The creature that loomed above the stone wall in front of him tilted its head.
“Oh?”
“You seem to think that I’m a man who accepts bargains at the cost of his people’s lives. I am not. You seem to think that what you offer is impressive. It is barely worth the briefest consideration. Finally, you seem to be under the impression that these woods and the land they occupy are yours. They are not.”
A deep growl began to emanate from the Lord of the Black Wood.
“These lands belong to me by right. I am their lord and master. You are merely a pretender hiding in the shadows that hunts young women and lords over fools.”
As he finished speaking he could feel his mana settle into a dead calm. He could, for the first time, feel the complete extent of it both inside and outside of him. It was vast.
The roar that was building from the creature grew louder and suddenly its mouth split open, crackling like a falling tree as the bark-like skin in front of its face opened, creating teeth of pointed bark and revealing an unyielding darkness within its center.
Neiman regained control of his mind momentarily only to lose it to madness immediately as he leapt over the altar on which Felicity lay, forgetting to even retrieve his pickaxe as he charged forward with spit pooling in the corners of his mouth and tears streaming from his face.
Solomon took a single coin out of his pocket that he’d infused with mana.
“Discus!”
He yelled as he threw it, sending the coin at the former mayor’s head where it exploded in a flash leaving a half exposed skull on one eye filled with madness behind as his body fell forward at Solomon’s feet.
Solomon looked warily at the brides in their misty dresses, but none of them moved toward him, instead fading back into the woods. Unfortunately, his lack of attention to the dark spirit in front of him was a mistake. The creature surged over the wall it had been posted over and swiped a massive hand at him.
Solomon barely managed to throw himself backward and avoid it, landing hard on his back as he hastily threw a handful of coins from his pocket to provide himself some cover.
They exploded against the Lord’s face, causing it to slow for just a moment, but didn’t seem to cause any damage.
Solomon used that moment to push himself up and run toward the ruins, narrowly avoiding another swipe as he did so. He ran for cover behind a chest high wall and reached for two vials of blood that were covered in glued anti-mana metal. He started to stand up and prepared to throw them when a hand exploded through the wall and slammed into Solomon, sending him flying through the air and making him roll through another low stone wall behind him. He could feel a number of blood vials shatter in his coat, and his mana started to quickly drain from the metal that was pressed into his palms. Eventually he landed against a tree.
He was uninjured, but chose to remain still for a few moments, shifting the anti-mana metal covered blood vials into his left hand as he performed the gesture for blood control with the other.
The monster approached menacingly, not with caution, but as if it was savoring a kill. When it was only a few yards from him, he threw the two vials he was holding, forcing the blood within them to explode outward, sending the shards of sharp null-mana metal everywhere, embedding in the skin of the monster. It roared in pain and backed away.
Solomon then began drawing out all the blood that had been spilled in his coat.