Ch. 70 Don't worry, Xander has a plan
“Stay away from him!” Cylia’s voice rang out as she leapt off the Asag, executing a roll as she landed and dashed towards Kiur.
The demon charged like an out-of-control vehicle hurtling at 50km/h (30 mph) in a straight line. Xander recalled their narrow escape a few weeks prior and was never happier to know it by their side. And to answer your question about how he kept up with its speed while Cylia rode it, Xander hitchhiked on Umbin.
“Thanks for the ride, buddy.” Xander slapped the Scorpion Man on his scarred back. Umbin swung his tail above Xander’s head and clacked his teeth threateningly. Xander fell off the Scorpion Man’s back and covered his ears when Umbin screeched at him. “Sorry, sorry!”
“I’ve got no time to lose, anyway,” thought Xander and rushed towards Cylia. Umbin followed closely after him. “I’ve only felt the pressure, but I don’t want to imagine what happened here to Kiur.”
No amount of imagination prepared Xander for what state he would find Kiur in. Besides the wounds—and the surprisingly horrifying scar they had never seen on him—Xander used his magic to peer into Kiur’s magic core and channels.
The state it was in was worse beyond imagination.
“I’ve never seen something like this,” marvelled Xander at how intricate and unsettling Kiur’s channels were. “I’ve studied magic channels, though I’ve never seen a design like this. They don’t look artificial, but he was clearly not born with them. Most of them were sealed and forcefully broken free again. What is that?”
Xander shuddered when he took another step. He didn’t notice he stepped on a massive shadow that stared straight into his soul. The shadow closed its eyes, urging Xander to focus on the more pressing matters.
“What’s the status?” asked Xander and came closer to examine Kiur. The damage on his channels aside, the wounds were a pressing matter. Yet Cylia hesitated to inspect him. Her hands trembled.
“Remember the oasis?” she asked tentatively. “I caught a glimpse of his scar, but I didn’t know it would look like this. I was curious and said it’s nothing to be ashamed of. But seeing it, I can’t help but feel guilty for prying!”
Xander swallowed hard. The claw scar on Kiur’s chest was massive. As if he had encountered a monster the size of an Asag that almost ripped him open. He couldn't fathom what Kiur must have endured to survive such an injury.
“Cylia, focus. We’ve to move Kiur away from here before-”
“Before what, sonny?”
Xander moved his body and bumped into Ragnar with his soldiers. He stumbled backwards. Something told him they were not here to help—their drawn weapons gave it away.
“Wrong direction, fellas,” said Xander, motioning for Cylia to calm Umbin down before he blazed at Ragnar and Co. “The real enemy is that stag guy who just bulldozed by a monster with over 100 horsepower—enough to isekai him and back.”
Cylia, the Scorpion Man and Reiszer exchanged perplexed glances while Ragnar ignored the sentence like a father would when their child was talking nonsense again. The Reiszer leader regarded Cylia with a faraway look on his face.
“Tell me, lass.” Ragnar squared his back; his long, tightly braided hair swayed in the wind. “For how many years have you lived as a thrall?”
The unexpected question took aback Cylia. She did some quick finger math and held up all her fingers. “Longer than I can remember. They took Mom and me from our homes. She helped me survive, but I’ve not seen her since I was 11 or 12.”
An air of tension hung as Ragnar absorbed her response. He exhaled deeply.“For the past 200 years, we’ve been living like slaves,” revealed Ragnar, opening his dark and calloused hands. “I hail from a warrior lineage that now serves the Western Reiszer. Though we appear freer, our chains are just as tight.
He continued without losing the thread. “Thralls serve us from the lowest rung. Then come the ‘Karl’, the free people like my soldiers.” His soldiers squirmed uncomfortably, but Ragnar went on. “Third Elites is a rough term, but essentially… I’m also a Karl. Yet, we also have a different name. The Western Reiszer call us Nuhi, which means ‘slaves’ in their tongues.” Ragnar grimaced. The ridges underneath his eyes flared. “We’re not truly free. We hold our own on tight leashes, enslave families, and fight their dirty battles to do their bitting.”
“Ragnar, what are you doing?” inquired Xander, backing away as the tension around Ragnar escalated.
“Sonny,” said Ragnar with the grip on his sword trembling.
“What are you hesitating for?” interjected Date's retainer, appearing behind them, dragging Jorunn by her hair. She fought against his grasp, clawing at his remaining arm.
Samuru tossed her over to Xander and Cylia, shooting a sidelong glance at Ragnar. Jorunn scrambled up to her feet, meeting her father’s fearful glance.
“You recall our master’s command, don’t you?” asked Samuru, his voice strained behind his mask. His remaining eye faintly glowed as he spoke. “Remember, you don’t have a free will.”
Ragnar closed his eyes, and beads of sweat ran down his forehead. The soldiers shifted uncomfortably when Ragnar raised his arm, revealing a red bracelet adorned with two dragons locked in combat, searing into his flesh.
“Dad, no! Fight it!” Jorunn screamed, her voice filled with protest.
Xander pulled her back. She was still pretty weakened after the poison, so Xander had little trouble to. “Don’t. You know what’s happening?”
“It’s a dragon’s vow,” explained Samuru, sinking on a rock and hugging his scabbard, but never letting his guard down. “Karls like Ragnar are chosen for their strength to fight entire armies of enemies. Their magic or combat skills are beyond strong. And we use them to slaughter their own people. Even if it’s against their will.”
“Sonny,” Ragnar struggled for words as his hand clenched around his sword’s hilt. “I’m sorry.”
“NO!” Xander yelled, instinctively summoning an ice shield from his reserves—despite the inevitable backlash from Ragnar’s magic. Otherwise, he would have just killed his own daughter.
The shield shattered and Xander sputtered out blood. Ragnar’s form appeared before them, and he reached out with his large hand at them and pulled up his sword with the other hand over his head.
Cylia reacted swiftly. “GARM, ATTACK!”
Her lynx necklace glowed, releasing a vicious puppy from a rift opening out of her chest and biting right into the attacker’s hand. Ragnar stumbled backwards but regained his footing. He quickly deflected the Scorpion-Man’s sickle sword aimed at his neck. Umbin roared, scooping everyone up with his tail to skitter away.
—✷—
“What in the world was that?” cried Xander, disentangling himself from Umbin’s claw. “Did he just try to kill you?”
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Jorunn wriggled herself out of Umbin’s grasp, settling herself on the Scorpion-Man’s back with Cylia and Xander. Kiur, meanwhile, dangled unconsciously in the air from Umbin’s tail.
“Those are Dragon Bracelets,” explained Jorunn. “It’s a vow of subordination. My father can’t fight it. It’s like a curse to obey his master.”
“At least he can’t follow us anymore,” Cylia remarked deadpan. Xander and Jorunn turned to her with an unsettling feeling in their stomachs. Cylia's expression shifted when she realised her words. "Wait, did I just jinx us?"
Cylia’s miserable luck manifested when Ragnar unleashed a magical cut that cleaved into Umbin’s back. The sand erupted behind them as Umbin lost balance and threw everyone off when Ragnar cut off his tail.
Ragnar’s heavy footsteps imprinted themselves into the sand. Umbin screeched painfully and thrashed around with his body. Xander scrambled to his feet to reach Kiur, but Ragnar was first. Placing a boot on Kiur’s back, Ragnar popped his wrist where the dog bit him.
Xander noticed something peculiar. He didn’t know what the puppy was—or where Cylia got it with her demon entourage—but it bit right at Ragnar’s bracelet, which now released fluctuations of leaking mana. It would have been inconspicuous for anyone who didn’t look actively for it.
But for a wizard of Xander’s calibre, it was like child’s play.
“Cylia! Can you summon the dog again?” Xander called out urgently.
“W-what?” Cylia brushed the hair out of her face and spat out the sand. “I can’t use Garm like a magic attack!”
“Try it! I’ll distract him,” said Xander, positioning himself before Ragnar.
“Don’t attack my dad!” Jorunn complained weakly, raising her sword. “If you do, I’ll-”
“You think I want to fight him?!” Xander retorted, his voice strained. If you want your father back, trust me or stay back while I handle this!”
“Sonny,” murmured Ragnar and raised his sword, glowing in the faint blue light of mana.
Xander conjured an ice shard out of his palm and hit Ragnar in the shoulder to divert his attack. But no matter how much restraint Ragnar put in, the attack was still coming sharp. Ragnar prepared himself to slice Xander in half if Jorunn didn’t redirect the brunt of the attack with her sword.
Her blade cracked under the pressure, and the magic sliced into Jorunn’s shoulder. Her arm hung low, and her shoulder bled. The attack had cut her nerves.
“Any more smart ideas, blue stubbles?” asked Jorunn, switching her sword arm.
Xander groaned. “Your nicknames are as bad as Cylia’s, but the diversion worked. Look.”
They turned in the direction the magic attack was diverted and saw the Asag lumbering towards them. Ragnar paused.
Xander couldn't help but grin nervously. “This might be a bit overkill, but that thing is our best-”
The Asag collapsed with a loud thud as his heavy crushing nearby ruins.
“You call that an ancient demon? It felt like a walk in the park,” remarked Date on top of the Asag, his spear plunged into its back. His torn sleeve revealed his gauzed grey skin underneath. Date’s fake hair and beard swayed in the wind as he regarded Ragnar with Kiur under his boot.
“You're following my instructions by the dot, dear Marcet-san.” Date unlodged his spear and rested it over his shoulder with golden blood still trickling from the tip. “Now, leave the polyglot to me and kill the brats. Including your daughter.”
“What?” Ragnar gasped. His hand trembled when his bracelet vibrated against his wrist. “Date, don't do that to me.”
Ragnar noticed Samuru lurking behind him, his remaining arm resting on his sheathed sword. He was ready to cut Ragnar down when he disobeyed Date. Then he would have to kill the soldiers. It was nothing new. Samuru saw that happen all the time.
“Kill them,” the command echoed in Ragnar’s mind.
Xander stopped Jorunn from stepping closer to Date, his hand pressing into her wounded shoulder.
“Unhand me if you want to keep your hand,” Jorunn growled at Xander, the ridges under her eyes rippled. “Your plan failed. I’ll kill that Stag and save my father.”
Xander placed a finger on his lips. “Don't,” whispered Xander, maintaining his focus on Ragnar. “Every contingency requires a backup plan. I won't give up on him either, trust me.”
Trusting someone she barely knew was not to Jorunn’s liking, but the concern in Xander’s voice sounded genuine to her. She bit her nail anxiously and watched Xander burying his hand into the sand.
“You can't make me do it!” Ragnar shouted, barely holding back the urge that tore through his wrist and up his arm. “Leave them out! Please, have clemency.”
“Clemency?” Asked Date and squatted on top of the Asag. “I do not need clemency. Who do you take me for? A peasant?”
The pressure broke free from Date's body, slamming over them like a cascade. The masked Reiszer on top of the defeated demon intimidated Xander and the others, but he stood headfast like Ragnar.
“I can't afford to hesitate.” Xander exhaled as the heat got into his head, and sweat trailed down his wet face. A shadow passed them overhead. “Almost there. Almost.”
“No, I refuse!” shouted Ragnar. “You cannot force me!”
“Don't be like your son,” warned Date, presenting his arm to Samuru with the rest of Date’s soldiers. They’ve subdued Ragnar’s soldiers and forced them on their knees. “Children who can't follow their parents are a burden. A parent has to be like a general, ruthless. What will it be, Marcet-san? Your soldiers? Your daughter? Or the lives of some riffraff?”
Ragnar's eyes darted from person to person, his fist shaking. “I can't.” He looked at the distance where the Sun God was standing on a hill, silently watching Ragnar disapprovingly. Ragnar knew time was running short, but he kept hesitating. He hesitated to put up a fight against Date because it would mean everyone's death.
Either by his own hands or by the cruel hands of his master.
“There's only one way left,” said Ragnar.
Date chuckled. “And what's that?”
“I cut off my arm.”
“Pff, do it then,” replied Date, too amused by the proposition to react otherwise. “I doubt it will change anything. After all, you're but a petty tool who's wearing out. More broken than useful.”
Date chuckled. Ragnar pressed the blade right where his hand was. The blade prickled and drew some blood, but Ragnar still hesitated. He saw the Sun God turning away from Ragnar with disdain and looked up instead.
Ragnar’s breath grew erratic. He drove the blade further into his arm until he drew blood. The pressure was getting too much for him. The voices inside him yelled at him to do something, but Ragnar could only cry for his son and nephew, whom he had failed.
“Why do I still hesitate? Do it, you coward! Do it, or you won't be able to look at your son's face anymore when you die!”
“Ragnar!” Xander shouted, pulling everyone’s attention at him. “Hesitation doesn't suit a man of your calibre, but don't worry.” Xander gave Ragnar a wild grin. “I've got you covered!”
The pressure of magic Xander saved up exploded from his body. The stone hidden inside his pocket gloved in a bright blue light, setting his veins ablaze with cold fury. Streams of light covered the sand, and a ball of ice shot right off the ground from under Ragnar’s feet. It grazed his chin and flew into the sky, exploding with a shrill sound and covering the sky in a cyan haze.
Date chuckled. “Did you try to kill my subordinate but missed?”
Xander smiled at the Stag-Man. He whipped away the sweat from his brow and straightened his coat. He raised his finger to the sky and gave a thumbs down to Date.
“Never underestimate a Hellien Wizard. I've survived drowning, magic abuse and extracurricular exams that could melt one’s brain—literally! I don't go unprepared into battle.”
They looked up to the darkening sky with the dissipating mist. A rupturing roar filled the desert, accompanied by the tremor of footsteps in the distance. A dragon with the head of a lion and a vast wingspan flew above their heads.
Usumgallu circled the crumbling Achernar and roared. Its benevolent face was riddled with unsuppressed anger, popping everyone's ears. The whites of its eyes disappeared in a sea of darkness. It unleashed a sphere of blue fire from its maw, charring the sky. The shockwave of the attack shook the earth and rose into the sky like a mushroom cloud.
Another hissing sound like lightning zipped then tore through the air. One more lion-headed demon flew much closer over their heads. Ugallu’s mane bristled with thunder as it dropped to the ground like a meteor roaring. A current simmered through the air and glazed the burst sand, showering everyone with glass shards. It unleashed a violent roar that went right through under the skin.
“Sonny, what did you do?” Ragnar asked.
Xander laughed uneasily. “I brought in the cavalry. Not even Date will stand a chance against-”
Another terrible thing happened.
They didn't notice it at first, but the sun flickered on and off like a broken bulb. It suddenly grew in size and unleashed a heatwave that smouldered their clothes.
The dragon's voice boomed. “DUMUZID PERISHED! THE SOLSTICE SHALL CLEANSE THE DESERT AND BRING DEATH! Pray for mercy before the gods and the Earth Mother.”
Usumgallu unleashed a hot white and blue breath into the ranks of Date's soldiers. Ugallu roared and struck Ragnar with a lightning-quick headbutt, reeling him backwards. Then he grabbed the unconscious Kiur with its taloned feet and took off into the scorching sky.
The Solstice was there.