The winged Demon scoffed at them. With a wave of his hand, more bodies fell to the floor as Demons turned upon their Human allies. It let out a soft growl as its hand moved quickly to block Stefan's strike. It was quick. With movements that matched the Swordsman's speed, the Demon easily blocked Stefan's strike with the large blade it now wielded. Stefan jumped back as the Demon lashed at him with its wings.
"It is done... We must leave."
The winged Demon turned its head towards another Demon as it feasted upon the body of one of the thugs. Its hands moved quickly and within moments, the Demon's blood covered the floor.
"Somol ikir Lerokos. [Path of the Dam-"
"Not on my watch."
The Demon's eyes flared as the old man pulled something out of the black bag behind him.
"Had enough of Greater Demons like ya' running away from my sights."
The man smiled as the winged Demon rushed towards him. The man smiled as he pulled the trigger of the large weapon.
With a deafening roar, the mouth of the weapon exploded with flame and steel. Bright light filled the room and flooded out of the castle as the Demon met the blast with the sword. They thought that it was finished. Surely the Marie would have finished off the foul creature with its sheer amount of power. But instead, they all watched in horror as the Demon finally revealed the sword's secret. The blade's guard throbbed as the weapon itself came to life with a thick aura that blanketed them in a suffocating bloodlust.
The old man watched in horror as the sword devoured the bullet and its light. The weapon writhed as it transformed into a bulkier form, then it turned on its user and devoured the winged Demon. The Demon howled in pain as the sword steadily took its body for its own. The weapon sucked the light into its blade while the winged Demon's body began to morph and change into a sleeker and more human form. They watched as the last of the light discharged by the Marie's bullet was absorbed into the demonic sword.
"We... No, I see now why they wanted this blade so much..."
The figure smiled as the weapon changed into a smaller, sleeker form in the hands of its user.
"The Sword that Defiles the World. Kithar Ohukual ti' ilum. A name that befits a monarch, and a weapon that belongs on the side of one."
A man stepped forward, and they saw the face of a man who died minutes ago.
Ilfris' body was covered with plates of hard bone, yet beneath the armor of bone is skin that looked like fine leather and cloth. He had the same human face and features, yet there was something off about him. He had a younger appearance than before, yet that did not change the air around him. In fact, it was even more suffocating than before and he could feel what little humanity left within that body struggled to keep itself intact. The Goblin's ears perked as he heard the man load a bullet into the chamber of the weapon. Ilfris scoffed and shook his head. As the man raised the weapon and aimed it at him, the unimpressed Ilfris simply sighed and continued the ritual of the Winged Demon.
"They tell me that we will all meet again, but not in the near future. [Path of the Damned]"
Just as the blast of the weapon once again filled everyone's ears, a pillar of flame appeared where Ilfris stood. But as he disappeared into the fiery flames, the weapon clipped and tore a large chunk of his shoulder.
But the damage was not enough. The flames consumed the man, and through the fire, they saw how easily he was able to fix the damage to his body. Ruric was about to fire another shot as the flames dissipated, only to be stopped by Stefan as he cut down a Demon that tried to charge at him. Soon, the other Demons flooded out of the castle in a frenzy and in a state of pure bloodlust. Ruric cussed and fired another shot of the large weapon towards a few of the Demons that clumped near the gates of the castle.
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Eric wondered if he should retire to his cousin's farm in the Kingdom of Roselia. He had enough of this adventuring business. He glanced over his shoulders at the large group that followed after him. Cowards. Only a handful of them deserve to be spared that shame but most were nothing more but cowering sheep that fled when they should've stayed and fought. Still, it's not as if their deaths would make such a difference. From what he heard, all those who stayed were probably dead.
He shuddered. They were given tasks outside of their capabilities. Eric still felt something churn in his gut whenever he thought about the companions he lost. Of course, they were from the Empire and most of them didn't have families to support back home. The only reason he led such a large group was that he was the only one capable enough after their old leader disappeared to who knows where. As he contemplated what he should do, he heard shouting from the group. He looked and saw that they pointed at the castle.
Moments later, a loud bang roared throughout the city. A flash of light burst from where the castle's gates once stood and he knew exactly what that burst of light was. He stared in awe at the legendary power of a Blast Rifle. They were awarded only to those who served with distinction in the Empire's army, and only a single person could carry one out of the Empire's borders. He was in the midst of wondering why the great Demonbane was here when he heard a cry from his right.
"Demons!"
A Low-Elf shouted as he shot an arrow at the shapes that jumped from the walls.
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The light clearly came from that Dwarven weaponry I have heard so much about. I've heard that the Emperor's dog is in the region, searching for people to teach his Champions and Heroes. Still, I never would have expected it to be this bright even in the morning sun. I looked back at the men that rode with me. Out of the 1,000 that rode with me, I have lost 50 in an ambush to some cult and a Demon. Still, my men will be more than enough to deal with this damned raid in Arenhein.
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"My Lord..."
"What is it, Aster?"
Aster, my trusted Knight, handed me a letter from a carrier pigeon.
"There were 27 raids. 6 of them were lost, but all were repulsed. The damage was limited to the main roads, villages, and-"
"Damn it... Six. Which of these damned trophies were taken?"
Aster gulped. She pulled out another letter, but this one was penned by one of the Seers back within my city.
"The Sword that Thirsts, the Horn of the Black Dog, The Rending Claws, Kirielder's Eye, The Fang of Ikil'zur, and the Bow of Ilkius."
"Thank the Gods that the Dragon managed to defend the worst of them. Send a detachment to ride south to secure the roads and send another one to patrol the surrounding area. You are to secure the roads north with a small detachment while I-"
"My Lord!"
Aster shouted, her sword drawn and ready to cut something behind me.
"[Noble Protection]"
The Demon's claws failed to scratch me or my armor. Instead, the force of the skill sent the fiend on the backfoot, where it was shortly cut down by my Knight.
"Tch. We ride at once!"
As my Knight finished off the Demon behind me, I began to wonder...
"Where the hell is Terius?"
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As the Demons escaped through the many holes along the castle's walls, Stefan and the others hurried to the aid of the adventurers. Ruric and Elya chased after the Demons and left their companions to tend to the wounded. Among the wounded was a familiar shape. Semilia and Riel stared at him as Stefan wrapped a bandage around his leg. The Healer, Lea, tried her best to heal the Goblin's fractured bones. It wasn't much, and he would benefit more if he took a month to rest, but she wanted to thank him for saving her life.
"Damn it, Goblin. You should've stayed in that cave of yours... It's too damn dangerous here."
Stefan tied the bandage and sighed.
"Still, you've got... You've got guts."
"There! I'm done healing your-"
"Lea! Stop dawdling on that one and help us over here! Ella's throwing up and Mina's knocked out."
"I'll help you when I get to it, alight?!"
The Healer barked loudly at her companion as she stood up and patted off the dirt on her robes. Like a prim and proper Healer, of course.
"Excuse me, but I'll have to tend to Jared and Miss Katherine."
The Healer smiled, then promptly walked over towards the Druid and smacked her over the head.
The Goblin was about to greet Riel and Semilia when his yellow eyes fell on a crying figure. Elair wept at the body in front of her. It was covered by one of the curtains, but he already knew who it was beneath that blood-soaked cloth. The hammer Rolf owned was placed over his chest, and the Goblin couldn't help but feel sorry for Elair. There were other dead adventurers as well and the few Guardsmen that remained standing laid their comrades side by side with heavy faces. It wasn't a new sight for him, but it brought up things he wanted to forget.
He didn't know how to approach Elair. Instead, he just pushed himself to stand beside her with an awkward look on underneath his scarf. The stubborn Dwarf was dead. Most likely mauled and ripped apart by the fiends in a desperate last stand to defend his companion. Unfortunate. It was an unfortunate reality, but one the Goblin knew all too well. He did not weep at the loss of a friend, but he did feel something twitch in his heart. It was a pang of pain that made him remember the reason why he left his home and his life.
"Rolf... I am sorry."
In his mind, that was the best thing to say when someone died. He didn't know the word for "Levingerld" in Common Tongue, but it got the message across.
"Seryues... You are a Mage, right?"
"... Yes."
She spoke softly between sniffles. But he knew what she wanted him to do.
"Then, could you please see him off..."
It was those words that made him and everyone in the room shudder. Others looked at him as well. Two more Mages, one of them Riel, stepped forward. Their faces stern as they readied themselves for the task.
In the eastern part of this continent, cremation was meant for those who died a gruesome death. Burials are meant for those who lived a life of peace, ones whose souls would not linger after their death. For Goblins, they either ate their dead or burned them. Yet to feast upon the dead only happens whenever they recover the body of a great warrior or a wise Chief. Others they would burn. A handful they left where they fell, for the adventurers will be the ones to take care of it.
As he readied a Fire Spell, he remembered what he had learned about Humans. Dwarves and Humans burned those who have fallen in battle or those whose final moments were spent in pain, agony, and deep sadness. They are to be cleansed. Cleansed by fire so that their Gods and Goddesses will receive them in the afterlife. It was also to prevent their bodies from rising once more as Undead. The bodies were grouped together, but they were not in one big pile. But he will have to make do.
"[Flame]!"
All three of them cast the spell and pointed at the bodies.
The flames they summoned quickly ate the bodies, but it did not turn them into ashes quickly. Still, it was better than the ones he saw in the past. Bodies were piled onto each other, Human and Goblin, and burned as if they were piles of trash. He made sure that he put as much mana into the spell as possible to burn Rolf's body quickly. He was a good man. He did not make a bargain with him to be called a friend, but he was sure that he would make a great one.
He sat back down with Stefan with Elair sitting close to him. The mana he used to make Rolf's cremation quick exhausted him, but it left no ash nor cinder when he was done. Stefan didn't mind. In fact, he offered her a swig of strong drink from his flask. An offer which she gladly took. The Goblin looked at Stefan, who patted him on the shoulder while he watched the girl take a swig of the strong ale. Elair quickly gave the flask back to Stefan. She clearly didn't like the ale.
"Thank you... And also to you, Seryues."
Stefan chuckled to himself at the sound of the Goblin's fake name. The Goblin glared at him, but chose to ignore him.
"What will you do now?"
"What else but to continue the journey? Rolf may be dead, but I still have the message he wanted to deliver."
Elair smiled as she patted the small bag on her person.
"I always knew that being an adventurer had its risks... But I never thought that... I'm sorry..."
Elair wiped away the tears in her eyes while Stefan and the Goblin looked at each other.
"That's an adventurer's life, you know? Your closest companion will be Death, and you need to be well acquainted with her if you want to continue this life."
There was something in Stefan's words and tone that made the Goblin shudder. He spoke out of the experience, and the thought of what the man might have gone through struck a chord with the many fears of the Goblin race.
"But then again, being an adventurer is like an escape as well. Each new quest or journey is like a new life, a chance to see another part of the world and meet new people..."
Stefan took a swig of his flask. He let out a satisfied "Puah" and wiped away the ale on his mouth with the back of his hand.
"But then again, it's not as if I am an adventurer for the sake of adventuring."
Stefan ruined the glimpse of greatness the Goblin and Elair just witnessed.
"What? Why are you looking at me like that?"
"..."
"..."
The two of them said nothing as they both sighed at the dumbfounded Swordsman.