EPILOGUE

Eirlys certainly looked the part. She wore a brand new set of novitiate armor bearing the colors and sigils of the Lay Sisters of the Cleansing Blood, complete with the red half cape indicating a member of the Orders Militant currently authorized to use lethal force. Said force took the form of her great grandfather's carbine. She'd been surprised when her Father insisted that she take it. He was clearly more than a little bit upset and worried about her being put at any risk. So it had been a mystery why he'd send her off with an antiquated contraption of wood and steel until she witnessed the childlike glee on the armorer's face when he saw it. Apparently the old stuff was ideal for the Church's purposes. Now the weapon's wooden stock practically glowed with fresh oil and the metal parts boasted an impossibly fine tracery of silver runes promising reliability and accuracy. The armorer had told her it was a pleasure to work on 'a classic like this' because 'it just soaks up the magic'.

The armor and refurbished old gun helped Eirlys fit right in with the other members of the Grand Master's retinue. She looked like just another one of the eclectic mix of elite personnel drawn from every Order Militant in the area. But she knew she was a fraud. What had she achieved to match the accomplishments of this group? She accidentally got her friend monsterized, had a mental breakdown, shot a man in the back, and only technically "saved" another girl from death by monsterizing her too. Sister Superior had told her the Grand Master was convinced she was a good luck charm: one of the 'Fated'. But Eirlys wasn't convinced. For Pete's sake, Sheila had DIED! Or was that un-died?

Whatever the case Eirlys was glad that the Church wanted her, even if it seemed to be for stupid reasons. Her service ensured that her parents were safe at the city's fortress abbey and she herself was probably even safer with the Grand Master than her parents were in that fastness. The man himself appeared shockingly young and had a compelling charisma about him. Eirlys couldn't quite describe why she felt that way but he seemed to have an almost... heroic aura about him. If it wasn't for the beard he obviously grew in a sad attempt to look older he'd be the spitting image of one of the protagonists from her Zipangunese comic books.

So, convinced that she was basically worthless yet totally safe thanks to her companions, Eirlys indulged in the luxury of taking in the sights. The Grand Master had taken his retinue and the rest of the Orders Militant to the large square in the middle of town where the main protests were taking place. There they linked up with the beleaguered police trying and failing to set up some kind of cordon. To Eirlys' surprise they'd only reinforced two sides of the square and actually pulled the police back to join them, leaving half of the square open for people to come or go. Then they'd set up an area for people to turn themselves in for police processing and waited. Eirlys really didn't see the point of bringing in a small army to do basically nothing. Admittedly, more people than she would have expected did turn themselves over to police, mostly for food, water, or medical attention. But there was still a seething mass of furious protesters in the square and their numbers were growing all the time.

It wasn't until later in the day that Eirlys realized exactly why the crowd was growing. People were being herded into the square. The first clue was small parties bearing wounded to the processing center. These protesters had obviously run into citizens who'd had just about enough of this protesting nonsense. Soon they were joined by terrified protesters who looked like they'd been running for their lives. As more and more bodies jammed into the square traffic increased at the surrender point. At this point the only exits for people in the square were to give up to the police, break the armored lines of the Orders Militant, or go back into the city and face whatever people were running away from. Only the most tenacious opted to stay on their feet in the square and continue their tantrum.

Eirlys heard the monsters before she saw them. At first she thought it was distant thunder. Then she saw the first gleams of metal. A force of armored centaurs with lances were marching down the broad avenue of Main Street, their iron shod hooves crashing loudly with each step. When they reached the square they simply stopped and stood at attention. Behind them Eirlys could see other centaurs blocking the intersections behind them to prevent anyone from sneaking around the spearhead. With the hoofbeats of the centaurs finally silenced Eirlys could make out another sound: raucous music and laughter. A handful of protesters ran into the square from Oak Street swiftly pursued by an honest to goodness Night Parade. Zipangunese monsters of every description plopped down, blocked the Oak Street entrance, and started partying in earnest. Any human foolish enough to get close was swept up in the inhumanly wild festivities. Eirlys watched in pained sympathy as one weedy young man was grabbed by Oni and forced to guzzle an entire jug of alcohol before being danced inside a giant drum which a tiny Zipangunese goblin promptly started banging on like she was trying to kill it.

As the day wore on the monsters clearing the city tightened the noose. Even if they were still vastly outnumbered by the humans Eirlys was surprised to see just how many monstergirls could be mustered in an emergency. And the power on display was humbling. There were the obvious heavy hitters of course. Dragons, high rank undead, arch-demons, and the like. There were also some oddballs. An elderly hinezumi walked hand in hand with an old man down a small side street, her slow and graceful movements suggesting a power far beyond what her small frame suggested. On the other hand Eirlys was confused at first by the couple clearing the last stretch of Pine Street by themselves. The ogre seemed formidable enough, what with her stature and massive silvered club, but she was a far cry from a wurm or a lich. Meanwhile the man with her was downright comical. Balding, pudgy, and utterly unprepossessing he was wearing an Edwardian three piece suit which had last been in style when the diesel engine was the hot new thing. Every now and then he would stop and fussily check a pocketwatch of all things. But when she met his eyes her blood ran cold, even from across the expanse of the square. She didn't know how strong that silly little man truly was but she knew for absolutely certain that she didn't want to find out.

A tense murmuring gradually took over the square once the last streets had been blocked. It was dawning on even the dimmest protesters that they were trapped. If it wasn't for the nucleus of leaders constantly exhorting the crowd Eirlys suspected this would have been the end of it. Even with the die hards doing their best to keep everyone's dander up she suspected the protesters' morale was on the verge of collapse.

That was when the Lilim decided to reveal herself. Eirlys couldn't fault her timing. She waited just long enough for the reality of the situation to sink in, but not long enough for the protest leaders to formulate a plan. Her arrival was preceded by cheering from the monsters, especially the centaurs who started stamping their hooves again as they formed an arch with their lances. Then the lilim herself floated into view. Her entire demeanor was completely casual. Gauging by how relaxed she seemed she might as well have been going on a routine trip to the market. Eirlys immediately hated her of course. She was so beautiful. How could any mere mortal, or even monster, compete? It just wasn't fair. Eirlys could practically feel the raw jealously radiating from herself and every other woman in the area. The worst of it was that Eirlys knew deep down how desperately she wanted the Lilim to like her. No matter how much she wanted what the Lilim had, she knew that she wanted a single bit of praise from the demi-god almost as much.

The Lilim's presence must have been palpable to the people closer to her. The crowd parted before her without resistance as she brazenly crossed the square by herself. Every now and then she'd stop and speak to someone, usually a man. She would gently touch their arm or face as she spoke to them softly. Afterwards the person would either head for the processing area with tears running down their face or make their way to one of the blocking groups where they'd sheepishly hold one or more monsters' hands and leave. In her wake the rabble-rousers were helpless to reinvigorate the cowed masses. By the time the Lilim made her way to the Church lines the protest was basically over. The core of the protest, mainly the candidate herself and her clique, was still screaming into bullhorns, but everyone else was busy forming orderly lines to surrender.

Hair flowing in sync with unseen mystic currents the Lilim floated straight up to the Grand Master and giggled, "Thanks for being our anvil. Maybe next time you can pound me?"

Eirlys watched with amusement as a pink tinge appeared on the Grand Master's cheeks, "Yes, well, be that as it may, the Church Militant thanks you for your assistance in clearing up this disorder with a minimum of bloodshed."

"Oh, I don't know how much we helped." the Lilim smiled wryly, "At this point I think the angry townspeople are more of a threat to these hooligans than either of our armies."

"No fatalities I hope?"

"Just a handful. All protesters. Most of the rest is fairly minor injuries. A couple of my girls were hurt too but they'll all recover."

Eirlys mentally sighed with relief. At least her friends were probably all OK.

"Sadly it isn't over yet. We still have to convince Miss Poor Loser over there to accept the results of the election."

"Not looking forward to this..."

The Grand Master gestured and his retinue broke off from the line. The Lilim offered her hand as if she needed the Grand Master's assistance to move but, obviously flustered, he pretended not to see. Pouting, the Lilim floated after him. It was horrible, but Eirlys liked the Lilim a lot better now that she knew she didn't always get what she wanted.

As they approached the holdouts Eirlys was struck by how unhealthy the woman at the center of this mess looked. She was corpulent, yes, but that wasn't all of it, or even most of it. The blotchy red face and sweaty skin weren't really it either. It wasn't even the terrible haircut and awful blue dye job. It was the eyes. They were crazed, angry. Eirlys realized that the failed gubernatorial candidate was a genuine fanatic. The kind of person who would never accept that their view of reality was flawed in even the smallest particular. In another time or place the woman would have been right at home sending dissidents to a gulag or ripping the hearts out of war captives to make the sun rise. Unconsciously, Eirlys' tightened her grip on her weapon. How would they talk down a nutcase like this?

"Miss... Witch... Gale..." repeating the woman's 'awokened name' seemed to cause the Grand Master physical pain, "By the authority of the Governor and Mayor you are ordered to cease and desist with this illegal protest immediately. If you'd like to contest the results of the election you must do so via the legal system."

"Fuck you oppressor! The SYSTEM is SYTEMICALLY BIASED by DEFINITION! I'm relying on PEOPLE POWER!"

Eirlys just barely caught the Lilim whisper under her breath, "Then why are your goons so heavily outnumbered?"

"I'm not moving an inch until that monster WHORE vacates office in favor of ME! Besides, since when the FUCK do you CHURCHY PATRIARCHS get to tell the FUTURE GOVERNOR what to do?!"

"Ma'am, as leader of a legal militia I've been lawfully deputized to assist police forces during the current emergency. While deputized I act not as an officer of the Church but as an agent of the pol-"

"ARE YOU MANSPLAINING TO ME?!!!"

Despite herself Eirlys was a little impressed. She'd never seen someone literally froth at the mouth before. The Lilim tried to interject but before she could get a word in 'Witch Gale' rounded on her and unleashed a storm of invective. This seemed to be more emotionally cathartic than argumentative as all Eirlys got out of it was that 'Witch Gale' didn't like monsters very much. When 'Witch Gale' finally wound down, more from exhaustion than anything else, the Grand Master just sighed.

"Maybe we should continue this later, after everyone has had some time to calm down."

With that the Grand Master sighed again and turned to leave, crestfallen. The Lilim moved to comfort him as his retinue closed ranks around their leader. No one took notice as 'Witch Gale's' face turned purple. And after her earlier tirade no one cared very much when she started screaming again, something about 'not turning your back on her' this time. Most critically, almost no one noticed when 'Witch Gale' pulled a small revolver from her pocket and pointed it at the back of the Grand Master's head.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

There was a pause before the screaming began. For Eirlys time had slowed to a crawl. She could smell the burnt gunpowder. She fancied she could smell the blood too, but she wasn't as sure about that. It was surprising how quickly her hands manipulated her weapon. Apparently her brief but intense training was paying off. She finished the (probably unnecessary) tactical reload and advanced with her weapon at low ready. A quick kick sent the unfired revolver skittering to the feet of the friendlies behind her. Eirlys kept her muzzle trained on the now prone 'Witch Gale' and quickly scanned the faces of the remaining protesters. She saw no threat there, only shock and fear. With their leader too busy choking on her own blood to pose any danger Eirlys' body sensed the peril was over and time began to resume its normal flow.

"Threat neutralized Grand Master. Should I finish her off?"

The Grand Master's response was drowned out by the growing screams of terror but Eirlys saw him frantically shaking his head and she backed off, dropping her weapon into sling ready. To her surprise one of the protesters wasn't running away from her. A gangly young man in an extremely ill advised 'hipster' ensemble rushed forward and fell to his knees beside 'Witch Gale'.

"No! Becky! Please don't die! I promise I'll never mansplain again! I'll never fuck up your order again! I'll never complain about anything or question you ever again! Please! Just don't die!" the young man looked at Eirlys plaintively, tears coursing down his cheeks, and begged, "Please save her! Please!"

Eirlys wondered what he saw. A monster with a blank and uncaring armored mask for a face? A remorseless Order Militant killer? An increasingly scared young woman? Eirlys didn't know what to do. Which of those things was she? Which course of action would suit the thing she was?

"Thank you for saving hot stu-, er, the Grand Master." Eirlys doubts were washed away in an instant by the Lilim's musical voice praising her, "Don't worry. You won't be a killer today."

The young man's eyes filled with desperate hope as the demi-god approached. For her part the Lilim looked like she'd just taken a drink of spoiled milk. She hovered over the dying human woman and scowled, "I can't believe a woman like you has someone who truly loves you. How is this even fair?! Especially when I'm still- ugh. Never mind. Let's see what we have to work with here."

Lights sparkled around the human woman as the Lilim affected a moue of distaste and contorted her hands in complex patterns, "Seriously, what the heck is wrong with you? How does someone even get like this?"

The Lilim continued to grouse in this manner, occasionally pausing for a moment before saying 'no... that wouldn't work...'. The young man waited anxiously until 'Witch Gale' started coughing violently, expelling a gout of blood with each convulsion. At this he clutched his beloved tightly and looked at the Lilim with desperate eyes.

"Don't give me that look! I'm not sure even big sis Druell- wait, I have an idea!" the Lilim laughed heartily, spread her wings, and held her hand out over the couple.

"You're such a blunt force. You knock down everything in your path without thinking too much about the consequences. You're a cruel blade too. When you put your mind to it you can strike with vicious precision. The kicker is that you really think you're doing it all to help people. No matter the actual aftermath you always justify yourself with language about 'helping' and 'empathy'. Taken as one you're nigh unto irredeemable. Taken as one..." the Lilim snickered sadistically as the mystic lights began to flicker wildly, "I mean, it's not like there isn't enough of you!"

Eirlys reflexively squinted as her visor automatically darkened to protect her eyes. The mystic lights were coalescing into a veritable whirlwind of psychedelic colors. A warning light indicated that ambient mana levels were broaching dangerous levels. Unarmored humans would be at risk of transformation if this kept up. Was the Lilim planning on betraying them? Before Eirlys' mind could explore that possibility there was a loud 'POMF' and an explosion of light. When her visor cleared Eirlys' jaw just practically hit the floor when she saw the young man being cradled by not one, not two, but three monster girls. Their modestly was protected only by scraps of what Eirlys assumed had been 'Witch Gale's' outfit. This state of undress made their similarities and differences glaringly obvious at a glance. Each wore a facsimile of 'Witch Gale's' face with the addition of fluffy animal ears. The animal theme continued with fluffy tails and a few patches of fur, especially around the forearms. Most strangely, each had knife or sickle like protrusions extending from said forearms.

Despite these commonalities each one had a distinct mien. The first was a tall, sturdy girl. Her expression was reserved, verging on dour. Eirlys might have pegged her as standoffish if she wasn't hugging the man protectively from behind, obviously concerned about him. The second was shorter and more wiry. She moved with a frantic energy, touching the man all over, alternating between berating the man for stupidly risking himself for her and tearfully telling him that she loved him. The third was the smallest and had a soft, petite figure. She had latched onto the man's arm and was hugging him for all she was worth. Face buried in his arm she was crying and apologizing over and over again for hurting him.

Eirlys was vaguely aware of a drunken cheer from the distant night parade as the Lilim flapped her wings and gave several bows with flourishes, "Thank you! Thank you! I am a genius! I know! This one is for all Zipangunese girls out there!"

The Grand Master stepped next to Eirlys as the newborn monstergirl trio hugged their husband and the Lilim bowed to the perplexed retinue, "Thanks for saving my life. I knew you were lucky! You even set in motion events to resolve this without any one else dying. Well, technically not dying I guess."

"Oh Grand Master!" the Lilim pretended to be too tired to fly properly and made sad puppy dog eyes, "I'm suuuuuuper weak after doing all that magic! Do you know a way you could help me restore my mana reserves?"

Eirlys could have sworn she saw a bead of sweat run down the Grand Master's brow.

"I don't suppose you can figure out a way to save me from her...?"