Chapter 5: Battle
“Get to your positions, men. You begin when the sun touches the horizon. May Her benevolence guide us.”
“May Her benevolence guide us.” The men in front of Alfred repeated, their right fist over their heart.
“Briar! Morte! With me!” Alfred called, running towards the town, as the rest of the men parted.
“How much time do you think we have?” Briar asked, as they ran along the mage.
“Not much. We will use the crowd to slip in. After you use the gems, use the confusion to slip out. We will meet in the cave.” At least, I will. I won’t be needing you any longer.
The men ran in silence, closing in on the city. Curiously, they met no patrols, as Alfred expected. Maybe they were not alerted, after all? This could mean that the detonation would be easier, but his target was not in the city…
As they reached a close vantage point, he studied the traffic in the main gate before him. “Damn. It looks like they were alerted after all.”
“Sure did. The whole gate is crawling with salamanders and dullahan. Maybe we try another route?” Morte suggested.
“Get down!” came a sharp warning from Briar, and all of them obliged, while a succubus flied over them, taking a lazy arc along the city’s walls. “Seems like they set up some air patrols as well.”
“We will wait. When the others start, they will send someone to investigate. Most flying monsters will go there as well. Then we will slip in.” Alfred said in annoyance.
Time passed slowly. The men kept their low posture, waiting… until a blast in the distance rumbled and echoed against the city’s walls. “Now, let’s… what is this?! They are closing the gate! Damn it!” Alfred cursed. Thinking quickly, he decided. “Let’s try the sewers. It will be unguarded...” he looked up, as some succubi flied over them, heading to the source of the explosion. “Let’s go!”
The three men made a dash from the forest. Alfred led them along the walls, until they came across a large sewer dump pipe, gaping under Lescatie’s defenses, puking filthy water. The three men entered without a word and soon disappeared into the darkness.
From the skies above, Wilmaria leading the succubi observed the men as they entered. “All right ladies, let’s turn around. It seems our guests have taken the filthy route.”
“What about the lunatics in the forest?”
Wilmaria smiled. “Why, we have let loose our own lunatics on them.”
---
One fanatic stood in silence, carefully observing his surroundings. His trap was set. He had left his old underwear hanging from a tree; that would be sure to draw out some werewolves to his snare. Hearing growling, he readied his bow. Two shadows moved along the trees, sniffing the air. He pulled out an arrow, and readied himself. Tonight he would make a name among the ranks of the Order…
The werewolves behaved somewhat odd. He was told that they rushed towards the smell of man, like rabid beasts, yet those monsters walked cautiously. Nervousness began overtaking him. This wasn’t right. One werewolf suddenly stopped, and in the growing dark he saw her yellow eyes squint. She took a stone and throw it at his trap. The explosion shook the ground, but failed to strike true. Cursing, he stood up and drew his bow, looking desperately at the dust cloud for a target.
“Nighty night.” The voice behind his ear froze his blood. A clawed hand ripped his mast, while the other hit his face with something soft… he stumbled back, letting his arrow fly harmlessly to the sky, before losing consciousness.
[At another part of the forest]
“Come then, damn monsters.” the man muttered, his sword drawn. The explosion he heard made him smile; a dumb monster must have met her end. Looking around, he found a promising target, a young werewolf under a tree, looking around, visibly frightened. He closed in. Jumping from the bush, he rushed towards her. “DIE!”
The werewolf screamed, curling into a ball. He raised his sword, never destined to come down. Two werewolves hiding atop the tree jumped down on him, pinning him to the ground, while the young werewolf ripped his mask and broke the pouch with the sedative on his face. His thrashing soon ceased. “You can let go now… guys?” the other two werewolves snored along with their captive. “Great… just great… how do I carry all of them?”
[Another part of the forest]
“DIE!”
The girlish scream and his brother’s cry made the man grip on his sword. It had begun. Those bastards were going to take all the glory. He decided to have a better tale to tell than them. Maybe the head of a werewolf would be a nice trophy…
He spotted one, moving cautiously among the trees. He rose from his hiding place, and walked confidently to her. As soon as she noticed him, the werewolf growled, dropping into all fours, ready to lunge. “Yes, filthy beast. Come at me!” he taunted, drawing his sword. The werewolf didn’t move, yet her eyes showed no fear. “What is it, beast? Afraid?” he tried another taunt. He took an intimidating step forward, but a clawed hand from behind him ripped his mask, breaking something soft on his face before everything went dark.
---
The three men stumbled along the pipe that lead them deeper into Lescatie. A few times Alfred looked at a map in the light of a devil gem, cursing loudly. Finally, a ladder appeared. The men climbed up, pushing the sewer grate above it cautiously. They were inside the city.
“I smell an ambush. It’s too quiet for a big monster city.” Briar said nervously, his hand on the hilt of his sword.
“No matter, we are trained for this. If you find yourselves in a pinch, break the gems where you stand. It’s holy energy will purify the area, and kill all monsters around you.” And you, but what you don’t know…
“Fine. Let’s get this over with. The castle is visible from here, the church bell is there, we should be…” Briar looked at Alfred’s map, “here. Damn, we are far off. Let’s go.”
The three men walked fast through the back alleys, their hands on their weapons. The silence was eerie, adding to their tension. At one turn, Briar stopped. “This is where we part.”
“Godspeed, man. See you later.” Morte said. With a nod, Briar disappeared into another back alley.
The two men kept walking. The bell tower of the church kept coming closer. “So, where do you think the heretic is holed up?”
“Either the church or the palace. He would avoid obvious hiding places. We will search the church together. If we happen upon some monsters you know what to do.” And I don’t want to be near there, or the palace, when the gems go off.
“So predictable, Alfred. Really, really predictable.”
The men froze, as a man appeared before them, walking casually. “You were an ambitious little man, after all.”
“Pallanto.” Alfred’s said coldly. He turned to his companion. “Go. I’ll take care of him.”
Morte run towards the church at full speed, leaving the two mages alone. A small figure on top of them followed him, jumping from building to building.
---
“Now, turn here and-”
Sheer instinct and reflexes enabled Briar to parry the incoming sword slash. Dropping to a battle stance, he looked at his attacker.
“Not bad. It seems the training at the Order of Shadows is as rigorous as always.” the figure before him said in a casual tone. Looking at his face, and the bright violet eyes sizing him up, his heart started beating faster.
“You!”
“Yes, me.” Alatar said, dropping into a battle stance himself, the serrated blade glimmering in the last rays of the sun.
“This is my lucky day. Of all the scum to come across, I happen upon the Forgotten one.” Briar smiled.
“Lucky? Hardly. I never imagined that Shadow members would join some lunatic fanatics, but that was a very foolish choice.”
Briar grit his teeth. “Says the heretic that joined the monsters.”
“Fair enough. We both have our circumstances.”
Silence fell as the two men glared at each other, before dashing forward. Steel struck against steel as their weapons clashed. Briar pushed at the sword cross, and jumped back and forward, slashing at Alatar’s feet. Jumping above the sweeping blade, Alatar brought his sword to hit the textbook roundhouse kick that was sure to follow.
But Briar didn’t try to kick him on his jump; the knight had some experience to recognize obvious traps. Instead he tried to tackle him, slamming his body at full force. Alatar tumbled to the ground once, slashing in front of him fast. That gave pause to his opponent, as he rushed to continue his attack. “Good, very good.”
Briar tried to keep his irritation in check. That man was banished under threat of death from any human land, faced a sworn enemy, got hit, and acted like they were sparring! He took a deep breath. Rushing recklessly was something only fools did, and fools don’t survive long on the battlefield. He took a defensive stance, watching as Alatar stood up. But the incubus didn’t hurry to attack him, instead studying him intensely. The cold caress of a bead of sweat running down his face reminded him that he had limited time; he would have to finish things quickly and get on with his mission.
Alatar struck again, clashing swords with the knight repeatedly, hitting high and low, avoiding any wide moves. The knight was trained; he would have to use caution to avoid any mishaps, and to keep him as calm as possible. The three gems this man carried was a grave thought occupying his mind. With a final clash, he jumped back, putting some distance between them.
Briar dashed forward, his sword ready to strike. His opponent’s parries and blocks intensified his own feeling of urgency. With a final slash, gracefully avoided by Alatar, he pulled out one of the demonic gems. One would be enough to finish this fight in one move and keep going; Alfred had told him it would kill all nearby monsters. He saw Alatar’s eyes and grinned behind his mask. Checkmate.
Alatar saw, in slow movement, the knight’s gloved hand move downwards, the shining gem in its grasp. His body reacted on its own; he stabbed his blade on the stone road, pulling it for extra speed, as his legs pushed him forward at the fastest dash his incubus body could manage. He jumped forward, his hand extended forward, as the gem kept coming closer to the ground. Just a little closer… his fingertips grazed at the falling gem with enough force to break its fall just enough, earning a scorch mark; the gem bounced lightly on the stone pavement, sending off sparks and flames as a miniscule amount of energy leaked out. The force of his desperate plunge left him tumbling a bit, but he knew that this would be enough; Briar’s boot stepped on his throat, his eyes merciless and his sword held high.
“No!” Veronica’s voice echoed in the alley, as she dived from her vantage position above them, her face full of fear and determination. Briar reached for something inside his cloak…
Explosives. He intends to blast her mid-air.
This was a technique he had proposed himself, when he was an active agent of the Order of Shadows: use of explosives against hard-to-hit opponents. Effective and lethal. Alatar felt his lungs burning; the boot on his throat had blocked his breathing. He tried to grab Briar’s foot, earning a twist from it. Veronica was closing in fast. Fear for her life gave quickly way to wrath. Unbridled wrath. For the second time in his life, Alatar felt his mana react to it, filling him with an intoxicating feeling of limitless power.
Briar never understood what happened; at one moment he tried to launch the special explosive on the approaching succubus, the next time Alatar’s enraged face was all he could see. His eyes shone bright red, his hands held both his forearms. He tried to shake him off, but Alatar’s hands just tightened around him with such force, he heard his bones break and pain rushing through his body. He growled in pain and tried to headbutt him, kick him, anything to slip from his grasp, but Alatar just looked amused, grinning sadistically like a demon from the old time. He let go of his sword-wielding hand, as his blessed blade fell to the ground, and grasped him by the neck, choking him and pumping painful searing demonic mana inside him. “Hands off my wife, worm.” he heard over the furious hammering of his heart, wondering if this demonic face would be the last thing he saw…
But then, he felt the grip at his throat relax, allowing him a few short breaths. Alatar’s eyes slowly turned to their original violet, as the succubus touched his hand. Alatar took a few calming breaths, and he let Briar go. The knight collapsed to the ground, coughing, and tried to flee, but the blond succubus’ hand gripped him by his chin, and traced something on his forehead. Then everything disappeared in a swirl of color, before he fainted.
“Thanks, dear.” Alatar whispered between heavy breaths, as he struggled to keep his hate in check. Veronica cupped his face with a look of loving concern. She kissed him deeply, pushing as much of her energy as she could into him, calming the flaming torrent in his heart. “Don’t do this again, honey. I’m afraid I will lose you.”
His breathing calmed, as he looked into his wife’s eyes. “For protecting you, I’ll do whatever it takes.”
---
Morte ran towards the church, his breathing becoming faster the closer he came. His hand gripped the hilt of his sword; the feeling of the cold metal always calmed him down.
“Going somewhere in a hurry?”
The girlish voice froze him in his tracks, and his sword flashed in the evening light. He looked around, trying to locate its source. “Show yourself, monster!” he growled.
“As you wish.”
A small figure appeared before him… almost like dropping from the sky. Monte groaned, as he realized that he was followed from the rooftops. It was classic urban and city warfare, ambush tactics. However, for an ambush to be successful, it must be hidden and spring into action at the most opportune moment. Why was this girl showing herself like this?
Then Monte realized in horror that this was not his average monster. Every tactic in the book warned not to engage this creature alone in straight combat. The girl smiled mischievously, tilting her head, coming closer. Her tail wagged in rhythm with her step, as her hooves clopped on the stone road. He took a step back, and threw one explosive pouch at her, as he turned tail and ran.
“Where do you think you are going?” came the baphomet’s taunting reply. He heard the explosion behind him and smiled; the explosives with shrapnel made of blessed metal would be a nasty surprise, even to a baphomet. As he took a sharp turn, his legs froze. Casting his gaze downwards, he saw the glowing seal, and tentacles made of dark purple mana crawl up on him. He reached in his pouch and grabbed the demon gems. He raised his hand, intent on slamming then down…
“Now, now, no need for that.” He heard the girlish voice near his ear, and more tentacles crawling along his torso, immobilizing his hand and filling him with seething hot mana and lust. He fell to the ground, panting. His eyes rolled up, and he fell into unconsciousness. His fist loosened, letting go of a shining demon gem.
Lucella looked at him with disinterest. “Too bad I already have chosen my own big brother.” she said to the man’s senseless body. Pallanto’s warnings sure saved her from that nasty surprise. She promised herself that she would reward him plenty later…
Her fantasy was interrupted by a huge surge of mana, followed by a strong explosion. Cursing, she ran to the object of her affections.
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Chapter 5 is out. Long, long, long. Maybe my longest chapter yet. Criticism welcome.