I look at the building of the court. Its splendour always stimulated my thoughts, its architecture remembering that of my people.
Once, I really believed in our cause. But as cycles pass by, I can’t fail to notice the growing cracks on the perfect image we dedicated our lives to create.
However, there is an aspect in which she is right.
To stop now would mean undoing decades of efforts. Maybe I should take a break, return to the lands of my brethren, let those living there continue their short lives as they deem it fit, without me witnessing them?
“Arbiters, you’ve been summoned here due to the urgent news from the northern provinces.”
A region recently conquered. It’s not like unrest there would be unexpected.
“We believe that Lords assigned to the lands began preparing a rebellion against the Overlord. So far we’ve been suppressing the news, but the court cannot let the situation escalate.”
A rebellion led by Lords? That is something which hasn’t happened for a long time. A hundred cycles, maybe?
“Investigate this. Deliver Overlord’s justice to the guilty.”
- Ion’s dream journal
The door exploded. Ion managed to create a shield of mana, deflecting splinters flying inside.
“For Sudomeas! Release our brothers!”
Six armed villagers surged inside.
The first to act against an unexpected attack was Sae, who threw one of her daggers, lodging it in a chest of one of the villagers. Her attack was quickly followed by Ciros shooting from his bow at another, the strength of the shot knocking down the victim, and Petra, who quickly unsheathed her sword and rushed against the closest opponent.
Reria sent streaks of energy from her hands, which caused burns and staggered two of the assaulters, giving Ion an opportunity to weave threads of mana, forming a web that he conjured, hindering their movements. By this time the rest of the group managed to get ready, and not a moment too soon, as the cultists easily broke the web entangling them and were already on them.
To Ion's morbid fascination, even those directly hit by Ciros and Sae quickly recovered; grunting with pain, they continued to fight.
Most of the blows the cultists received were shrugged off, as if they were skilfully using combat mana manipulation, strengthening the parts of their bodies which were hit.
It seemed that attacks from silvered weapons were the only ones that had some degree of effect. Similarly to attacks made by Dorian; yet given the now crowded room, the reach of his greatsword was hindering his movements.
The same extraordinary resilience dampened spells Ion and Reria hurled at the cultists. Noticing the one at the rear of the group was chanting, they focused on him. Ion decided to keep sending surges of mana to disrupt his casting, while Reria harassed the spellcaster. The man grew more frustrated with each failure to manifest his spell properly.
The melee was hectic, yet ultimately a short-lived one. The resilience of the cultists was intimidating at first, however, it lasted only four or five direct hits from their group’s weapons.
The unexpected change in the opponents’ strength caught everyone by a surprise. Especially Thaleus, whose warhammer, empowered by both the dwarf’s strength and dwarven runes engraved on its head, connected with the head of the one, smashing half of it to paste. Even if the remaining cultists noticed pieces of grey, bloodied fat landing on them, they continued to fight until the bitter end.
“The other room!” Reria shouted.
They moved quickly, just in time to engage a group of four, carrying unconscious Jane. The group was quickly dealt with, especially when some of the remaining soldiers who stayed in the inn rushed to the corridor alarmed by the sudden commotion. The silence wards around their room seemingly prevented everyone from hearing their earlier fight.
“It looks like your plan to wait is no longer a valid option,” Sae said after Niklas filled the present guards in.
“People on the lower floor must have heard the fight; the rumours would be spreading across the village even now,” Reria said. “It might be our only chance to get the cultists before they prepare themselves.”
“David, prepare the bird. You know, the one enthralled by the Gift of the ranger. It should reach Leisha by the morning. I will write the message for Lord Faranger. Petra, mobilise everyone; including those patrolling village. And all militiamen you can gather quickly, no point in filling in only those we trust would keep the matter quiet. I want everyone ready to depart in a half hour.”
“What about those?” Ciros pointed at Jane and two cultists they managed to capture.
“We are already short on manpower, we can’t spare anyone to guard them,” Reria said. “We should kill them. They are too dangerous to keep them alive.”
“The Lord will welcome us in his kingdom!”
“You must be kidding!” Ciros was unbelieving. “They are our prisoners! That would be murder.”
“They wouldn’t hesitate if they have captured us-“
“As long as I’m in charge, I won’t agree to that. They’re in our custody and will be put to a fair trial! Tie them and get something to cover that girl for Uther’s sake!” Niklas pointed at two of his man. “You will take them to Leisha, Lord Farnager will decide how to proceed further.”
“Your choice,” Dorian said. “We will keep an eye on them until your men get ready.”
“We still have some liquid silver remaining, using it on weapons should help with bypassing fiendish resistance some of the cultists seem to be capable of. We could share it with some of your warriors…”
“Maybe you also have a spare warhammer I could borrow? Maybe having a weapon covered in it isn't a bad idea.”
Moments later their three prisoners – and Bran, whose status was harder to specify – lied tied and unconscious in the girl’s room. Ion, Sae and Dorian were with them while the rest of the group was preparing.
“Do you have everything ready?” Dorian asked.
“Well… there might be a thing that could make some of my spells easier…”
“Every edge we can get would be useful,” the paladin said.
“Then you won’t oppose to me borrowing some of their lifeforce?”
With no objections raised, Ion quickly chanted, engulfing both hands with mana. He felt tendrils of the energy seeping into the body of the first prisoner as he probed him. His lifeforce was sluggish; it might have been the man’s advanced age. Or maybe strengthening themselves in a fight as they did moments ago really took its toll on the cultists. Probably both.
He siphoned some of the man’s remaining energy, guiding it inside his body.
In his mind’s eye, he created a pocket of space within himself, separating the stolen lifeforce from his own, the same way when he had been experimenting in the Silverfords’ estate when he tried to store it for a prolonged time period.
Maintaining the spell, he moved to the second prisoner.
The conversation with Dorian from the yesterday came to his mind, and he wondered whether by using their blood directly he could achieve better efficiency. After a moment he decided against trying it. Not only he would have to prepare a ritual of sorts which would take more time, but the cuts he would make on the prisoner’s bodies might also raise some eyebrows.
Stopping just before Ion thought draining anymore could cause some visual changes to the second man – and probably way too late for the damage he has done to be fully reversible – it was probably too late for this even before he began – he moved to Jane. Just after a cursory inspection, he couldn’t think of her as anything different than the main dish.
Comparing to the previous two men, her lifeforce was like an ocean. Eagerly, he dived within, seeping its energy. He was careful at first, but felt a growing urge to speed up the process with each passing second. He knew he should slow down, focus and reduce the energy he wasted due to his haste, yet the sheer pleasure of the stray lifeforce invigorating him was irreversible…
It felt as if every pleasure he ever experienced came back to him. The excitation of the first kiss, joy of the sex, the pride of successfully manifesting his first spell, multitude of images he saw during a meld, anything he could think of… it was dwarfing them all.
The energies that he manipulated while experimenting on the beasts before, the sips he could drain in short moments of combat when he used a similar spell, they were just a pitiful tease, fit only for a beggar.
Who would even want to use mana for their spells, if reaching for lifeforce could feel so good…
Everything that ever bothered him seemed so trivial now. How could he have been so blind?
This was all that mattered.
If only he could spend his whole life, simply continuing this, it would be all he would ever want to experience.
Just looking for beings to drain their lifeforce from, allowed to continue bathing in their energy for all eternity…
‘Are you truly masters of arts? Or just slaves to the power?’
The words of Vision-he broke Ion’s focus. He staggered, took a few steps back and fell, gasping for air.
“Are you all right?” Dorian asked.
Ion mumbled something in the answer.
He had really lost it. The inexplicable pleasure he felt just a moment ago. It was gone now. What was that feeling? Could the thoughts that assaulted him become something permanent? An addiction?
He still felt the lifeforce brimming inside of him, but it no longer filled him with perverse pleasure.
Were all who manipulated lifeforce threading on this line? Only their willpower stopping them from becoming a twisted version of themselves? Was it the reason why necromancers where feared?
He turned his mind’s eye towards the lifeforce, expecting the energy to try to intoxicate him again. Yet nothing happened. It wasn’t vile nor tainted; it was simply laying inside his barrier, waiting to be used.
‘Every discipline has its own traps for its adepts, some greater than the others…’
“Doesn’t she look a little different?”
Hearing Sae Ion looked back at Jane. It wasn’t immediately visible, but he could notice her skin looked slightly sunken, as if she had gone hungry for a few days. The girl might have looked a little bit older than before. That greying hair near her ear, had he seen it before?
Ion should have checked on her, find out how much lifeforce was left inside her… but he was afraid. Afraid that by casting the spell once more, he would lose himself again.
‘Yet, to not try now, would mean letting my fears grow their roots. If I don’t reassure myself now about my ability to resist temptation, would I even gather the courage to try the spell again?’
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As far as Ion understood, it was the matter of willpower, not solely skills.
Reluctantly, he chanted once again, probing Jane.
The lifeforce within the girl was still abundant, begging Ion to drain even more from her.
After a few seconds, which seemed to last much longer, he finally dared to try siphoning some again. This time, fully focused on resisting any urge that might appear. He carefully watched tinge of her energy joining his, yet nothing happened this time.
He sighed with relief and looked at her lifeforce once again.
It was a curiosity for Ion. He could only compare it with his pool, as far as he was able to perceive it, or that of beasts he experimented on. He believed that Jane’s was currently comparable to his natural reserves, and must have been far larger before he siphoned a hunk of it.
Had some people just much deeper reserves? But if so, his earlier drain shouldn’t have affected her body that much. Maybe it was due to the pact cultists made?
He mentally shrugged.
Judging by what remained inside her, she should easily regenerate over time what he took from her.
‘Why would I even care about her future?’ an unwanted thought passed his mind.
“She will be fine,” he stopped chant for a second and moved to Bran.
The hunter’s lifeforce was comparable to the first two cultists Ion examined. A stale, painfully slowly growing fire.
Whenever it grew a little larger, its energy was sucked, drained by various muscles and organs, trying to repair the damage the hunter sustained during the fiend’s possession. Wondering whether he could ‘help’ true Bran, Ion decided to push some of the lifeforce he gathered into him.
Contrary to what he expected, the energy he sent almost completely dispersed, only a little part of it fuelled the flame.
The only thing he could compare the feeling to was filling an undead with lifeforce. Yet undead, even if they hadn’t stored it, at least used it to heal themselves. With Bran, the energy seemed to simply pass through him.
It was as if there was no more will to live inside the hunter. All the lifeforce he had left was only kept in equilibrium between what his body produced and used constantly.
How to break this circle, Ion had no idea.
‘Any suggestions, Vision-me?’
Silence.
‘It looks like we’ll leave you in care of Leisha’s clerics.’
“I’m going to meditate, notice me when everyone is ready.”
Ion left the room heading to the second one.
“What, holy planes, was that?”
Angered Sae pinned him against a wall of the corridor seconds later. Quite a feat, as she succeded in breaking the Shield Ion instinctively covered himself with to achieve this.
“I got a little carried away when casting spells, nothing that will be permanent to Jane-“
“I don’t care about her! What with the spell you cast on me?”
“I told you it was a mistake-“
“Vargrshit! You 'missed' the spell? You must be kidding me!”
“Well… I just wanted to be sure that you are not a doppelganger," he mumbled silently. "Happy?”
Sae blinked a few times.
“Me? A doppelganger? Really?” she laughed. “Would it even work on them? If it was that simple they wouldn’t be such threat... No, nevermind. Why have you even considered me a doppelganger?”
“A wild guess?” Ion tried to evade the girl, but she was still blocking his path. “Don’t you have anything more important to do now?”
Sae simply stared at him.
“I have plenty of time…”
Feeling that she won’t drop the matter, Ion decided to just tell her and be done with it.
“You’ve been hinting things Sarah told me when we were alone, so I thought-“
“So that’s her name! And what, you thought that I posed for her? Seriously?”
Ion nodded.
“Idiot! I just found you making out while checking around the village. Consider setting silence wards next time. Really… I don’t even know whether to be angry, or to laugh at you. Are you, guys, always so full of yourselves? Have you really thought I might be so desperate to sleep with you to pretend to be someone else?”
She let the question hang in the air, waiting for Ion to answer.
Tears started to flow from her eyes.
“You really think that I’d have to?” the girl sobbed. “That I’m ugly?”
Ion felt the urge to answer, to cheer her up.
“It’s not…” he noticed that she was barely restraining smile. “You had your dose of fun, hadn’t you? Stop wasting our time and let me prepare in peace!”
“Be sure I’ll remember this!” Sae’s laugher was following Ion on the corridor until he crossed the room’s silence ward.
He would have slammed the door if the room still had them.
“It was far too close,” Sae whispered.
****
When the expedition was leaving Crestfall, there was a split among the villagers. Some refused to believe in the true face of the cult, having many friends amongst those who joined; words of soldiers and mercenaries not enough to convince them. Others were scared, begging the gods to protect them from demons. Few pragmatic ones tried to organise rest of denizens, sure that no matter what was true, for the following days they would be on their own against any threats.
With prisoners loaded on the cart, two soldiers split from the group, heading for Leisha’s Crossroads.
The remaining ten, along with Ion’s party and fifteen militiamen willing to join the expedition, dived into the forest, heading towards the ruins of the fort.
Walking through the night, the group was led by Ciros and two of the best hunters they had, who had Darkvision casted on them by Ion.
The atmosphere in the group was tense; everyone looked around warily, expecting an ambush at any moment.
After they’ve noticed a fresh trial of human footsteps, they abandoned any pretence of sneaking and marched on as quickly as possible.
Two hours later, they’ve arrived at the fort.
“It had been a fine piece of masonry once,” Thaleus whispered.
The fort was surrounded by remnants of a stone wall, reaching higher than fifteen meters up. Getting inside would be a huge problem, if not for the numerous holes inside it, which let them catch glimpses of the main building.
“They were trying to repair it,” Dorian said, pointing at wooden poles and stakes filling some of the holes.
Judging by windows, the main building still had three storeys that were mostly functional. The lower two looked almost intact. Judging by lights coming from the windows – and a hole in the wall on the second floor – cultists were inside. The third storey was almost totally ruined, yet the torches moving on the roof were suggesting the guards were stationing there.
“It seems they don’t have enough people to guard the walls and gathered everyone inside the main building. Not the best tactic, but better for us,” Niklas turned to Ion and Reria. “You’ve mentioned fireballs earlier, from how far could you cast it on the roof or through that hole in the building’s wall?”
“If they don’t have wards that would disturb the spell, around one hundred meters against an unmoving target should be doable,” Reria said.
“Likewise. At least as long as you simply want us to blow things up, for anything more refined I would need to get closer…” Ion added.
“Expecting the range of artillery wizards would be too much,” Niklas sighed. “It looks like we’d have to approach closer.”
“We’ll check the walls for wards,” Sae and one of the soldiers sneaked closer to the fort and soon disappeared from their sight.
“Actually, even if we’d had a better range, the closer we get before casting the more effective it would be,” Reria said. “Remember how resistant those we fought against were? According to what I’ve learnt about possessions when a fiend remains dormant within the possessed person, he sees and feels only what his vessel does. If our spells strike a cultist before a fiend becomes aware of the threat, there is a chance we could remove him before he manages to strengthen the vessel. Maintaining that protection constantly would probably drain the vessel out of energy too fast, so I doubt most fiends is doing this.”
“So only one clear shot, eh?”
Reria nodded.
“Some passive wards are still barely functioning, yet there are no wards that could interfere with anything not directed at the wall itself,” after a while, the scouts returned. “However, the walls are manned.”
“This section has only a single watchman,” Sae pointed. “We should be able to remove him quietly.”
With the previous plan slightly altered, Niklas split the expedition into smaller teams, and they spread out, each group sneaking towards their positions.
Two light armoured militiamen, Petra, Ciros and Reria were accompanying Ion as they sneaked closer.
“Wall cleared,” Sae messaged Ion. She and the soldier she scouted with earlier took care of the watchman.
Ion’s group took positions by the wall, the spellcasters positioning themselves in a way they hoped would cover them from the sight of the cultists occupying the main building.
Afraid that their armours might create too much noise, Thaleus, Dorian, Niklas and three heavily armoured Faranger soldiers stayed further behind. They were to join them as soon as they fire their spells. The appearance of the magical projectiles was also meant to be a signal for other groups to begin their own assault.
Seeing Reria’s nod, Ion began to whisper his chant.
Falling in a trance, he felt a numb pain and coldness spreading from his chest, as his lifeforce tried to leave his body and gather between his palms. He struggled to stop it, guiding the one he had drained from the cultists to take its place, and soon a speck of blue flames manifested inside his hands. Feeding it mostly with mana now, he continued to chant, and the flame grew stronger as it tried to seep more lifeforce not only from Ion but also everything around him. From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Reria slightly shivered as the temperature slightly dropped, despite her evoking a ball of flames in front of her.
Feeling a little lightheaded, Ion maintained his chant until he was sure Reria finished hers too, and as they agreed, he guided his spell towards the building’s roof, while Reria sent it through the hole in the second storey wall.
The projectiles glowed in their wake, two comets cutting through the air. Ion heard few surprised shouts just before the azure blue ball exploded on the roof, immediately covering almost the whole of it.
The explosion subsided, yet the screams continued as the flames clung to the cultists who desperately tried to extinguish them by rolling over the floor or patting themselves frantically. He noticed two or three silhouettes falling – or jumping – from the roof, only to fall on the ground with a sickening crunch.
Ion watched the effect his spell had. The sight was both horrifying and mesmerizing.
‘They weren’t innocents,” he tried to calm himself.
All around the sounds of weapons clashing and battlescreams sounded.
“Shit!” Reria’s curse brought his attention back to what happened with her spell.
Her fireball flew towards the hole, however, just when it was about to pass through, it crashed against a barrier. The fireball exploded, and intertwined lines on the wall of the building shortly flared as the spell’s energy spread through the runes.
A dispersing ward. A staple defensive runework, redirecting spell energy to a wider area, to protect fortifications and other wards engraved on them. Sometimes said energy was even redirected to actually fuel other defences. There were two standard siege tactics against those wards. A focused magical attack on the single point – or various focal points, if they can be identified – yet usually to be successful it required overwhelming amounts of power. The more feasible method was simply utilising mundane siege engines. Dispersing runes were largely useless against kinetic damage, and runes protecting against this damage weren’t that effective – you could increase toughness of the wall, but similarly that could be done to a boulder shot at it.
Yet for all Ion has learnt, after breaching the wall, the dispersing ward on the destroyed part should cease to work. That meant the cultists actually strengthened their fort with some wards of their own. The barrier was connected with a dispersing ward, but it was still a weak point, and probably only a few more fireballs and it would break.
They noticed few cultists gathering in the hole as well as a few surviving still on the roof. Some arrows flew in their direction, yet the shortbows the cultists had couldn’t hail them far enough to be a real threat at their distance. Contrary to this, for bows Ciros and some of the soldiers carried it wasn't an issue. Their silvery tipped arrows mostly reached targets. They focused on the few remaining cultists on the roof, as the barrier that stopped Reria's spell was preventing arrows from passing to the other side too.
Reria released another fireball, yet the effect was the same. Ion still needed some time to recover before he could safely cast another of his.
“Save your energy,” Niklas’ group already joined them. “Your spells will serve us better once we get inside.”
He gave a sign and they moved in a formation towards the building's entrance.
“What kind of spell was this?” Petra approached Ion.
“Fireball, only with more ice mana than fire. I still have problems controlling the latter…”
“And here I have considered most beginning wizards to be irredeemable pyromancers,” she patted him with a smile. “Keep it up.”
Ion relaxed. He thought about it and decided that his spell shouldn’t cause suspicions. Even if, however improbable it was, someone more sensitive could trace its necromantic origins, the taboo was mainly about the school relation to undead, not spells in general. At least that was what granted a spellcaster label of a necromancer, at least for the general population.
What could raise questions, however, would be him refraining from casting it now, and then using it later, should the battle come to a pitch.
“I don’t like this. The resistance should have been greater,” Niklas said as they approached the building entrance unmolested, save for a few more arrows. “They had some spellcasters, where are they?”
“The door is barricaded,” a scout inspected visibly a newly put wooden gate. “Let’s alter this and that rune, just a moment and you should be able to easily burn through them…”
Despite his assurance, the process was harder. No matter if Ion and Reria used spells, or others torches, the wood, even if visibly dry, wasn’t willing to catch flames. They modified the wards of the door once more, and finally, their combined efforts started to bear fruits.
“Help! They’re too strong!” form one of the walls two battered militiamen frantically run. “They killed everyone! We couldn’t-”
The one who spoke suddenly stopped, a spearhead piercing his chest. He fell and one of the three figures that were chasing them slowly recovered the thrown weapon.
Even in the dim light, everyone instantly noticed that they were no longer fully human. One’s hand was grotesquely deformed, the elongated, clawed fingers reaching almost to the ground. Other had close to half of his body covered with some sort of organic, pulsating armour. The whites of their eyes were almost completely black, the teeth of the one who suddenly smiled absolutely inhuman.
“The Liege will reward us for–“ an arrow lodged in his eye.
The possessed cultist hissed in pain, closing the distance of a dozen meters in a blink of an eye. Others followed.
Before Ion managed to cast the first spell, clawed fingers cut down a head of one of the militiamen, spraying those close in a shower of blood. Ion’s field of conjured slippery tar caused the spear-wielding creature to fall as it charged. Reria targeted him with three fiery arrows, also setting the conjured tar in flames. What remained of his clothes started to burn, yet even if he felt pain, the cultist ignored it and threw his spear at someone, before rushing to join the melee.
It was, however, a suicide attack. Even with their resistances and strength, the three cultists fought against a group of fifteen. Still, an enemy unafraid of dying and oblivious to pain, highly resistant to damage; at least for a few initial seconds of combat, even outnumbered, was deadly to fight against.
Before they managed to slay the opponents, the possessed cultists managed to kill four militiamen and one heavily armoured Faranger soldier. And badly wounded two more, who they managed to heal through the use of Dorian’s magic and healing potions. That on top of the smaller wounds the group sustained.
During the fight, Ion confirmed his theory that spells utilising mostly pure, devoid of a domineering element, mana, such as his Magic Missiles or rays of energy Reria seemed to be so fond of, were the most effective. The frost cantrip he has learnt from Sten also seemed quite good, but he could more efficiently increase the damage of the former spell. Through, the difference wasn’t that great anyway. The fire-based spells overall seemed much less effective.
When the cultists fell, Ion could almost catch the sight of fading, immaterial creatures, leaving their bodies and dispersing.
Thaleus smashed the smouldering wooden door aside, and the group, reduced to eleven people now, entered inside.
From the corridor, a fast-moving icicle crashed against the dwarf, lodging itself inside his shield.
“Anyone wishes to take the lead? I’m not going to step through every trap on our way!”