User blog:AloofComputer/The man who walked alone: Chapter 6

Chapter 6: The hunt

“What have you learned?” Primera asked.

Wilmaria pointed at the local map. “The werewolf unit came at full speed when they picked a scent, turning here, and four of them climbed on the observation tower.”

“The tower was trapped”, said Mimil, while a tentacle pointed at the tree. “This is a first, using explosives. This is not magic taught at the Academies. This is something recent.”

“After the explosion, the rest of the pack dashed to this point” Wilmaria continued, “where the explosive snares were set. This is a premeditated attack. The snares were covered to cover the smell, but we’re sure they were made from local plants, as to avoid further detection. Whatever attacked them, they are good.”

“The leader’s tracks show signs of slowing, while the rest of the pack continued here, where the explosions occurred. It seems that the attacker used this piece of cloth, rubbing sweat over it, to lure them. The leader managed to avoid the trap, and she seemed to have confronted the attacker directly.” Wilmaria pointed at the respective areas as she was talking. “However, the fight seemed to be abrupt and short. One clean cut, one bruise. No blood, or an armor scrap, or a dropped weapon, or even further signs of battle. Just a thread of fabric between her talons.”

“Get this fabric torn and distribute it to all the packs” Primera snapped. “I want every pack to memorize the scent. Mimil, can you tell me what fabric it is?”

“Linen, dyed black. Black gear is typical of squads working at night” Mimil replied. “I also used a spell to get what was the last image the leader saw.” She chanted an incantation, and a blurry picture appeared before them, before becoming clearer. Veronica drew a sharp breath, and clutched a piece of the fabric she kept for herself even tighter. “It’s him!”

“Veronica here says she knows this attacker” Wilmaria said with a sigh. This whole affair was turning too troublesome for her tastes. “He is a mage that escaped after the city’s fall.”

“I searched the records for that mage”, Mimil continued. “His name is Alatar Moriatan. Fairly good student, but not that exceptional. He was sent on an errant the day before, and seemed to return the day after. But this is something I don’t get: he holds a sword. He seems to have gone toe to toe with a wolf pack leader. He is described as very frail, even among the other students. Something doesn’t add up.”

“Thank you, all. I will ask Lady Druella for more patrols, and to inform the city guards to be on the lookout. This… this is unheard of.”

As the participants prepared to leave, Wilmaria turned to Veronica, who was still clutching the piece of fabric with Alatar’s sweat close to her heart. “Are you still keeping this?”

“I’ll find him” she responded dreamily. “I’ll make him mine!”

Wilmaria smiled. “That’s the spirit, girl. Just don’t do anything rash or stupid. Taking on a werewolf pack in heat is no small feat, even for a hero. And this one seems especially cunning.”

---

Alatar was in a foul mood. Repairing magical equipment was damn hard, and that cursed werewolf had ripped his cloak. He channeled mana in the needle and thread and began repairing the ripped parts. While inconspicuous, that fabric had several wards on it, made by him, to protect him from moderate amounts of demonic energy, as well as mask the smell of his sweat, the heat from his body and the sound of his heartbeat. He would have to devise a mask, to mask the smell, sound and heat of his breath. But that would have to wait another day.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">I am turning more and more like an assassin, and less like a blessed hero,  he mused. Still, it was a productive week. Three fields poisoned, their produce destroyed, one supply caravan robbed and one bridge taken down. And to top it off, one werewolf patrol wiped out. Although the last one left him with worries. Was he too overconfident? He remembered his commander’s words:

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">“ Unchallenged victory breeds confidence, unchallenged confidence breeds arrogance, unchallenged arrogance breeds fall”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> He would need to lay low. The forests were sure to be teeming with patrols, and the city would be on high alert. Still, he made some interesting observations. The werewolves’ partners were being brought and kept together. He could use this to eliminate them in one fell swoop. No partners for the werewolves meant less breeding for them, ergo less security and tracking ability. His harassment mission started two months ago, at that office, but he proved to be a quick learner and a keen improviser. There was a shortage of goods in the city, if the caravans arriving were any indication. He would have to figure out a way to hit the water supply, or the places for mass gatherings. His plant poison worked wonders; the witches and baphomets were running amok in the fields, trying to take it out of the earth and make the fields fertile again. He had completed his report, along with details on his skirmish with the werewolf patrol. It would be useful to other agents across the border and inside the Demon King’s domain.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">With his cloak repaired, he tied his report, written in code, to the foot of an owl, who served as messenger. Birds of prey were unlikely to be targeted as food, since they typically taste horrible, and can defend themselves. Also, they can feed themselves, which is always a bonus. The owl flapped its wings and rushed towards the capital, soaring over the morning sky.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> Alatar turned his attention to his current matter at hand: he needed a safe space to sleep. Usual places like abandoned buildings were out of the question now. The forest would be think with patrols, searching for him, and even though he covered his tracks as best he could, he couldn’t shake the thought that he had missed something, and he was being hunted.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">''After all, the line between being the hunter and being the hunted is paper thin. ''

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">After some thought, he decided that his best bet was to break into a house whose occupants were away, or a basement where the owners didn’t enter. It was a risky move, but totally contrary to usual logic, and that would give him an edge. After all, the safer place against an enemy is under their nose. The smaller villages surrounding Lescatie were the safer to try and infiltrate. Without much of a guarding force to begin with, and with many occupants leaving for the day to tend the fields, it would be ideal place to lay low, and maybe try to blend in and gather some information.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">The fatigue from last night’s adventures was starting to catch up on him, along with accumulated fatigue over the week. He had better choose carefully the location to infiltrate, and do so without many witnesses; people in small villages knew one another, and blending in was difficult. Perhaps a village witch had a country fair or an outdoor market…

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> The noise guided him true, and the werewolf patrols seemed less frequent here. Merchants hawked their wares, and monsters and incubi haggled for bargains. Markets do seem a mass gathering place,  he thought, as he looked atop a tree on a hill overlooking the village. Coming a bit closer and climbing a tree again, he spotted a house in a back alley, that seemed in a state of neglect. There were no signs of inhabitants inside, no clothes hanging or flower pots, the doorway was dusty and the windows closed. He memorized the location and directions from his bird’s eye view. Speaking of birds…

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> He quickly dropped from the tree, cursing. Harpies roamed the sky. He could make out some knights among the crown. Probably dullahans. Fortunately the house was near the edge of the village, and with a few close calls, he reached the house without encountering anyone.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> He knocked at the door, and held his breath. None answered. He tried the door’s handle. Locked. Time for a bit of magic. “Oh water, come forth, bend to my will, obey!”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> A small flexible tendril shot from his finger, and after some careful prodding and a lot of concentration, the old lock gave way. Alatar re-locked the door, in case of unexpected visitors. Then he turned to the house and looked around. This seemed to be the residence of a woman (“or rather monster now” he thought bitterly) but it was untended for some time. There was a thin layer of dust over the furniture and the air smelled stale. This should be safe.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> The bed was already neat and made, so he plopped right on, with his cloak and all. He would worry to cover his tracks later. For now, sleep called.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">---

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">He was standing again before the gates of the fallen city, the air filled with demonic energy and the pants and moans of monsters and men copulating. He could see the lilim atop the castle laughing. He prepared to launch a lightning bolt at her…

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in">“ Here you are ♥”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in"> He felt his barrier breaking, and the next moment his field of vision was covered with the face of the succubus Veronica, filled with lust, her violet eyes shining with desire. He tried moving, but his body wouldn’t obey him.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">“Now we can have aaaaaaaall the fun we want ♥”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">He tried to hurl an incantation, to scream, to hit her, anything, but his body was frozen.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">His eyes snapped open.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">It was a dream, it was just a stupid-

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Where was his cloak?!

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">“Awwwww, you woke up? It’s fine, it’s better to be awake ♥”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">He felt his heart accelerate, the blood rushing to his face and his crotch, and sweet pleasure filling his body. He was on his back on the bed he slept, with Veronica on top of him. Her fingers were intertwined with his, and his cloak was opened, leaving him open to demonic energy. Her face was just as he saw in his nightmare, and her eyes were locked in his. Her heavy breathing brushed his face, now riddled with sweat beads, causing a pleasant feeling-

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Through sheer mental discipline and force of will he pushed the thoughts aside. He had to think, and fast. Demonic mana was rushing in his body, he had a very aroused succubus on top of him, looking directly into her violet eyes, and outside the whole city guard was looking for him. His protections were broken, and his weapons were out of his reach. The magnitude of his own predicament made him smile over the absurdity of this situation.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Veronica’s smile broadened and her eyes shone even brighter. “I knew you have a wonderful smile ♥ I could get used to see it eeeeeeeveryday ♥” Her tail wagged rapidly over her. I have to keep her busy and buy some time.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">“Hi there… long time no see. How did you find me?” Keep her talking.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">“Oh, like you don’t know, you silly silly boy! I have to ask you the same ♥ this is my home ♥”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">“Oh, for the love of...” he spat out involuntarily.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">The succubus giggled. “You know, I couldn’t believe it myself. After a long day with Lady Wilmaria, searching for you, I return to my home for the weekend, and here you are, on my bed ♥♥” Her breathing was getting hotter. Was it the demonic mana?

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">“You know, after our meeting at the gate, I couldn’t get you out of my mind, I wouldn’t get married, I wanted you and only you ♥” Veronica’s eyes were so close, he could make out every detail. ''Was that a tinge of red? Are her eyes changing color? What the hell am I thinking?! I have to find a way out of this!''

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">“And finally here you are, sleeping on my bed ♥ The fallen one must really smile on me today ♥”

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">The mention of the fallen god brought forth the old priest in his mind, and his peaceful face. That calmed his agitated thoughts. It wasn’t time for panicking. He concentrated as hard as he could. The demonic mana that entered his body was erratic and almost uncontrollable. His own mana reserves were not even half restored. Could he really harvest and use demonic mana? The very idea was madness, but he could at least try to contain it for a period. A barrier would do him little good at his present condition and company; Veronica seemed like a conduit for it, channeling vast amounts around her. She was certainly more powerful than when they last met. Then the craziest idea flashed in his mind.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Focusing as best he could, he started spiraling his mana creating a barrier vortex inside his body, and channeled a portion of Veronica’s energy into it. If it could hold the succubus’ influence at bay, maybe he had a chance…

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">His makeshift mana bottle seemed to work. Now comes the truly crazy part.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Without warning, he slammed his crotch, thankfully still clothed, up and between her legs. The reaction was lively, to say the least.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">“HYAAAAHNN ♥♥♥” Veronica’s eyes lost focus and her hands loosened for a second. But that was enough. Free from her grip, he slammed his hands on her buttocks, earning another high-pitched lusty squeal. Gripping them tight he propped himself upright.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">“Oh darling, you are soooooo forceful ♥ I love it ♥” Veronica moaned.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Seriously, if I make it out of this, I’ll never be able to live this down.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Still gripping her, he jumped from the bed and grabbed his sword by the scabbard. Veronica wrapped her hands and feet around him, and brought her face ever closer.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">With one hand on his sword and the other gripping her, the only way to avoid a kiss was to tilt his head, which he did. But how to keep her there and let him have a clear field of vision?

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Alatar nibbled on her ear and kissed her neck, while Veronica kept panting and shuddering. He opened the door with his sword hand, and prepared to execute his craziest idea yet.

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">---

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Chapter 6 is out. Speaking of crazy ideas...

<p style="margin-bottom: 0in; font-style: normal">Criticism Welcome.