Chapter Three Hundred And Sixty Six - 366
Gregis woke to smoke and flame.
Fire roared all around him, igniting the carpets and wooden furnishings in the office he'd once claimed. Tapestries were as torches, and smoke crowded all but the few inches where he lay. Pain like nothing he'd experience since Apprentice Tier wracked his Body, his arm, and he gasped in desperate agony. Then coughed, his throat ravaged by the heat.
That...that burning whoreson...where...where is he?
There was no sign of the assassin from Kaldis, though the evidence of their struggle was writ in the smashed doors, shattered glass, and torn stone. That creature had been stronger than anything Gregis had ever faced, stronger even than the Commanders, he feared.
Was it...was it of the Sworn? That thought chilled him, despite the flames licking his boots. If that thing was contracted to anyone with the coin, then nowhere was safe. They need to know...the Commanders...the Justiciar must know.
With all his remaining Strength, with his blood and Health leaking from him like a punctured wineskin, Gregis crawled to the door. Not to the shattered balcony, but a side passage yet free of flames. The captain tried, multiple times, to redirect the flames and light away. To seal them behind his conjured Blade of Sunrise...yet his Mana was spent, and his Stamina barely enough to propel him onward. He...his core twinged at each effort, its brilliance dimmed by that creature's assault.
Up there. I need to send a message. He gasped with the effort of simple movement, as if his legs had rebelled against him. The Ffen...they can be sent....
He dragged himself into the side passage, up stairs of crude stone, his Endurance flagging. He made it onto the first landing where he took a long, slow blink...and when he opened his eyes again, the flames had crawled higher. Now they were behind him, on the stairs. He groaned, and hauled himself upward. Upward. Until, with a desperate cry, he fell atop the final landing. The top of the fort's only tower.
And found the final door broken. Slashed apart.
He shambling forward, holding onto the very last of his Health as if gripping a sheer ledge over darkened waters. His eyes dimmed before acclimating to the shadowed room beyond, only to find his hope...to find it dead. Torn apart.
"The Ffen..." He couldn't believe it. Their messengers, lizards no bigger than a cat, dead to the last. Green and silver scales sliced to ribbons, their Tier III Bodies no match for the monstrous assassin. One was still burning with a fitful silver flame.
"No...."
Only the fire answereda roar from below.
"What was that?" the tavernkeep shouted once again from atop the rearmost wagon. She jabbed her finger back at the Pass and fort they had just departed. "You set fire to the fort! Andand that...that wall! How are we to return to Bogfeld now?"
"Ain't," Harn grunted. "Sorry to say, your mixed up in this too, now. You and your workers."
Harn's nod took in the Dwarven women still piled atop the rolling wagons, all three now pulled by a double team of avum across the sandy plains just outside the Caleph Pass. They were moving at a steady clip now that the slowest were stowed in the wagons, though they'd have to rotate a few of the weaker mages in a few glasses. As it was, the Legionnaires, Henaari, and giants were all arrayed behind them, each jogging as best they could manage. He grunted, this time to himself. Ain't gonna get stronger if they ain't workin' for it.
Palin's face heated up, her face smudged with dirt and her hair frizzed. "And who's fault is that? Don't think I didn't hear your little leader's words! Blaming all this on Kaldis? That gets back to Prince Tevin and I'll lose more than just my tavern! Kaldis will come for the entire town!"
Harn shrugged, keeping up with the wagon easily. Felix's secondary plan had been flawed, but not because of that.
"What does your leader plan toAAHH!"
A shape fell from the sky, landing with a relatively quiet explosion of sand beside them. Harn's axes were in hand and shimmering with silver flames by the time the sand clouds resolved into the supersized form of Pit. The chimera lurched into a run, wings half extended for balance atop the uneven sands but easily keeping pace. Felix was astride his back, waving.
Palin had cut her scream off once she realized who it was...or perhaps where she wasthe woman looked around with wide eyes, suddenly terrified of the velvet darkness in all directions.
"Jeez, sorry didn't mean to scare you," Felix said, riding easily in the saddle. Harn didn't know if the kid realized how effortless he made it look, but that was high stats for you, and Felix had stats like Harn had never seenthough it wasn't like he was privy to Master or Grandmaster Tier Status sheets, or even been in the Interior for longer than a few weeks. For all he knew, having over two thousand Strength was normal for the true elite on the Continent. Harn shuddered. He hoped not.
"Harn, Pit and I didn't see any pursuit at all," Felix continued. He shook his head. "I doubt they could, given how I left things."
"Any flyers?" Harn asked, scanning the skies himself. His Perception was decent, but he couldn't make out much against the impenetrable dark clouds. The desert air was crystal clear, but so close to the Stormeaters and the skies were filled with thickening cloud cover. Unborn storms, drawn by whatever magic was in the mountains...or perhaps repelled by the desert. He'd heard it both ways from Guilders that came this way.
There were no moons, none visible at least. The night felt all the grimmer for it.
"Flyers? No, no monsters that I could see."
"Hrm," Harn grunted, replacing his axes at his side. "Good."
Felix shook his head. "The air is weird up there. Mana is coiling around the edges of those clouds, but it's behaving...strangely."
"It is a feature of the Expanse," Zara said, appearing beside them riding an avum of her own. It was an ugly beast, brown and ungainly, but she rode it as if with great familiarity. "The Scorched Expanse is not a pleasant place for water mages."
She didn't look the least bit concerned about that, for all that Harn knew she had a water core. Or something like it, anyway. No tellin' with Master Tiers. She's likely got more tricks up those sleeves than Evie's got knives.
"Storms are chased away. Huh. Makes sense why it would be a desert then," Felix said. Pit cooed, the sound deep and resonant. The boy patted his beast and smiled. "Yeah. Probably keeps those undead fresh. Sun dried."
"Felix," a gruff voice called from behind. "Run with me a bit."
"Oh, sure." It was Harn. Reining Pit to a stop with a thought, Felix hopped off his Companion. He could feel the tenku's urge to move further into the sandshis boy was hungry. "Go ahead, bud. Just stick close by. I have no idea what's out there."
Pit chirruped happily and took off into the night, sand scattered back from his huge, pumping wings.
Then Harn and Felix ran. No words, just movement. Harn's armor slid about itself, somehow soundless despite being made of thick plates that would have clattered on anyone else, while the man moved like a machine. Arms and legs pumping up and down, each step strong and steady, firmly planted beneath him. He was leagues above the small army behind them, who even now were struggling in the shifting sands. Felix had always admired the man's physical prowess, and though his stats were higher now, he was pretty sure Harn had forgotten more about fighting than Felix would ever know.
After a handful of minutes of silence, Felix nodded his head back at his people. "How much of this can they take?"
"More than they think, and less than we need," Harn grunted.
"The martial orders seem decently strong," Felix judged, sweeping his Eye over them again. "Most aren't very far into Apprentice Tier, but I've seen worse."
"None of em have Endurance higher than 200, though most have a stupid amount of Strength," Harn said with an annoyed growl. "Their Stamina is low, and fewer still have decent movement Skills. Perhaps half have Runnin' up beyond Apprentice, while the rest are simply moving their bodies however they see fit."
"You think they'll have Running by the end of this trip?" Felix asked.
"That or somethin' like it. Just a matter of pushin' em hard enough."
"Stress and need," Felix echoed, recalling his earliest lessons in Skill acquisition. Those rules applied to him as well, though it was easier for him, being Unbound and all.
"Stress and need."
They ran on, Felix sounding Relentless Resolution if only to try and level the Skill a bit more. He felt as if he could keep up their current pace for days without any Skills at all, but the use of his movement Skill put a little extra strain on him. It was a pleasant burn, like warming muscles and deep, steady breathing. It was almost zen, after a while. No thinking. Just advancing.
"Felix."
He tilted his head toward Harn some time later. How long had it been? An hour? Two? In his periphery, he noticed there was a different set of warriors trailing behind them now.
"We need to talk about the fort. About the Paladins," Harn said.
Felix frowned. "What about them?"
"You left them alive."
Felix slowed his pace, and Harn slowed down with him. The man was puffing a bit harder than usual. "I couldn't do what you suggested, Harn. I couldn't kill them just...just like that. Monsters, sure. No problem. And I've killed people too, but it's always self-defense. Walking into that fort and slaughtering everyone feels like murder, man." Felix shook his head. "I can't."
"Mercy ain't somethin' you can afford, Felix. Especially not now, with the mantle of Authority on your shoulders. The bastards'll fight you, tooth and nail, and not a one will have a shred of mercy for you."
"Does that mean we shouldn't try? Maybe not here, but somewhere else?" Felix asked.
"If a beast were killin' people, is it a mercy to stay your hand? What if it would kill a hundred people if you let it live? One death balanced by a hundred innocents. I know which one I'd pick," Harn said.
"But they're people. Even if almost every one I've met was a rude, mean-spirited bigot, that can't mean every single person in the Hierocracy's orders are bad. Can it?"
"The Orders choose their people young. Four, maybe five years old and off ya go, whisked away to their citadels and fortresses. To be trained." Harn worked at his tongue, as if he was trying to gather up what little spit was left. The air was utterly dry despite its frigid chill. "Trained to think like them, to act accordin' to their codes, to trust in the Order over all else. Maybe someone good can come outta all that, but I doubt it."
"Jesus. That's messed up," Felix said. "So they're all child soldiers?"
"A good way to put it. Of a sort. Youngest don't usually get outta their academies until they hit their majority though. But all of em would be willin' to slit your throat if you went against their tenets or the instructions of their Order. They'd walk through fire to get it done, too," Harn growled.
Felix had seen the Inquisitors act pretty insane before, like that Creel guy in the sewers. "Why? Why would someone do that?"
Harn shrugged. "You forget. Monsters ain't just beasts. Many walk on two legs, preachin' about purity and the light." Harn finally spat to the side, his spittle thick and dark. "I killed their messenger lizards, but that'll only slow em down. There'll be consequences for leavin' them Paladins alive, I guarantee you."
Felix didn't have anything to say to that. He had known it, deep in his gut.
"Think on it, kid. I need some water."
Harn left him, jogging back toward the middle wagon. Felix stood there, frowning as the company swiftly over took his position. When he started running again, it was from the back, where his gaze could linger on the smudge of mountains behind them.
