The following morning dawned bright and crisp far to the southeast of The Warlord’s camp. In the vast and verdant valley between the Twin Vipers was Crown City, the seat of civilization on the northern continent. In spite of common belief, the city was actually named after the valley itself. It was simple coincidence that it also housed a ruler. The Crown Valley was surrounded on nearly all sides by a ring of jagged mountains, giving the impression of standing on the head of some great cosmic king.
The city of one hundred thousand people was designed in three perfect concentric rings with the Citadel Crusibilis at its center making up the inner ring. The enormous structure of quartz, steel, and sorcery was home to every king and queen of the continent for the past twelve generations. Its six identical towers were fifty stories tall and arranged in a star pattern five hundred meters from one another. The hexagonal building at their center was capped by a faceted dome of enchanted rose quartz which glowed with the colors of sunset at all hours.
The middle ring housed the lesser nobility, prestigious merchants, and other important figures. The outer and by far the largest ring held the everyday citizens, various businesses, guilds, and public facilities.
The river port was also in the outer ring, which launched warships and freight vessels more than a hundred miles south to the Tolstag Sea. Sometimes magical vessels would also arrive from abroad, gliding up the river seemingly immune to the strong currents. One such vessel was now docked there. It was a fifty foot long schooner, narrow and sleek with a single bright blue sail emblazoned with a spiraling pattern of black runes. Those runes when fed Soul Energy by a specialized mage would propel the vessel at incredible speed with a magical wind.
The dock was deserted except for a single tall and fit man, dressed in a meticulous red and black military uniform decorated with dozens of pendants, ribbons, and medals. On his hip rested a long rapier of superb craftsmanship which practically hummed with magical power. His salt and pepper hair was long, thick, and gathered in a loose ponytail. His grey beard was trimmed short, accentuating a chiseled jawline. His robust mustache was long and curled meticulously with beeswax.
His posture commanded a level of respect and admiration that could only have been won by a lifetime of valorous deeds and disciplined living. He studied the vessel patiently with dark brown eyes that never shifted focus beneath their thick, black brows.
When a blue translucent ramp slowly extended from the schooner’s railing, the man took three sharp steps backward and bowed deeply at the waist. He held his thickly calloused right palm flat over his heart as he did so, and held the pose as if turned to stone.
A figure appeared atop the ramp, towering nearly seven feet tall, with a hulking silhouette. He was covered head to toe in cobalt blue plate armor, but moved with graceful and sure steps. The armor didn’t clank, but rather crackled and sparked with yellow energy whenever the plates touched.
“Sheesh! Talk about rolling out the fancy welcome mat.” A low and hollow voice echoed from beneath the helmet of the imposing knight. “My father finally let poor old Typhon out of the throne room to get some sun and fresh air?”
“A detail I volunteered for.” The man named Typhon replied in a perfectly measured cadence, still bowing. “Welcome home Blue Knight, Gespar. Thank the gods you are still whole and safe!”
“Quit that bowing crap, uncle Ty. You can bow on the day I finally beat you in the training yard.” The knight set foot on the dock and lifted his hands to his helm. “Finally some friendly dirt, time to ditch this damn can for a-” He stopped and pulled the helmet free. “-while.” He finished in a much smoother and higher pitched voice than what had previously been coming from inside the helm.
“Still a baby, I see” Typhon finally straightened and regarded his former pupil with a less formal look.
“Yeah, yeah.” Gespar grumbled. He did indeed have a youthful face. It was smooth and rather weak featured unlike the rest of his magically altered frame. As one of the six Crusibilis Knights, he had undergone a lifetime of training and conditioning in preparation for a ritual that had transformed his body into its current state. The ritual also robbed him of any ability to grow hair, facial or otherwise. He looked as though someone had drawn an infant’s face on a thumb.
“So what has little Carmine so flustered that she can’t even manage her demihuman infested feeding trough?” Gespar’s voice hardened as he asked Typhon about the cryptic emergency message that had ordered him to leave the war front and rush home.
“Apparently yesterday a group of people entered her town faking impossible levels on a self proclaimed mission to exterminate The Warlord. They intimidated her into submission by displaying some unknown and catastrophic spell that destroyed a portion of Scimitar Ridge.”
“Bah, she’s a dramatic runt. What do our spies say?” Gespar waved the claims away as he asked.
“The monsters Blackfang and Doomhowl have been poached, and the giant Yugal has vanished from our scrying. The ridge was indeed hit by some powerful force, but all in all these events can still be conceivably explained by a rogue A rank party.” Typhon explained as the two of them began walking toward the city. Two large knights in armor similar to Gespar’s followed at a respectful distance behind them.
“Shit. We’ve been cultivating those named bastards for months. Everyone knows they were off limits. Tell my father I’ll see him soon. I’m heading to Filam immediately. If whoever these poachers are also manage to spoil The Warlord for us then I’ll burn that dirty slum to the ground myself. Stupid Carmine, you had one job. Keep the cattle alive and oblivious until they fatten up our monsters.” Gespar growled as he stomped along the wooden planks.
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“I’ll send the Fifth Unit to the north gate immediately to escort and assist.” Typhon easily kept pace as he offered. “Which mounts do you prefer?”
“The boars.” Gespar answered quickly. “I might make a mess.”
Typhon’s pace slowed and his eyes narrowed briefly. “Is that the best course?”
“Worried about a pack of Ariel worshipers and demihumans now, Typhon?” Gespar stopped and stared hard at his former mentor with clear disdain on his face.
“Do not mistake my professional deference for fear of a pitiful whelp such as you.” Typhon’s eyes locked onto Gespar’s. “It seems the war has made you forget that you are the weakest of all the Crusibilis, and no three of you could survive more than a moment against me. Any mess you make will eventually land in your father’s lap. My service is to him, not his snot nosed son.” A sudden visible aura burst forth from Typhon like a torrent of dark blue flame, outlining a presence many times more powerful than the huge knight.
“Forgive the jest, Master Typhon.” Gespar quickly backpedaled and seemed to physically shrink before the older man’s withering stare. “I simply mean that if the region of Filam is compromised I am prepared to purge it and begin anew.”
“Very well. Your reinforcements will muster within the hour. See to it that you do not embarrass your order.”
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“He showed up faster than expected.” I mused as Tabula informed me of movement in Gnollwood. It was now mid morning after my attack on The Warlord’s camp. I had met up with my group on the western field, and left Tabula to make preparations while I napped for a few hours. We now sat comfortably in the spacious living area of our mobile base. “Good. Is Yugal in position to ambush?”
“Affirmative. Our location is also hidden behind two layers of concealing magic. Shall we also move into position?” Tabula asked, standing.
“Yep, time to go to work. You’re sure Jade can pull off what we discussed?” I asked, still hardly believing it.
“Without a doubt, and the Soul Energy drain will be minimal with the configuration I set up.” She confidently replied.
“Awesome. Niiya, I’m counting on you to keep an eye on things here.” I patted her head as I stood up. She held her fists up to her chest and nodded resolutely. That’s some weapons grade cuteness right there.
“You must have really pissed ‘em off.” Jade was waiting outside in dragon form as we exited EDEN. “I would have at least waited until dark.”
“Me too.” I agreed. “Go ahead and setup like we talked about please.” I added, noting that monsters were beginning to filter out of the treeline.
With a casual wave of the claw, Jade conjured a massive opaque barrier in the sky above. It was easily a hundred meters wide and seventy five meters tall, practically a football field. It was tilted in such a way that it would be clearly visible from almost anywhere in Filam. I could imagine the growing suspense as people were looking up one by one and alerting everyone else.
Next with a combination of illusion magic, and a skill to link Rain’s sensory equipment to Jade’s mind she projected an image onto the barrier. We now had a giant display of everything the drone focused on. The swarm of orcs, gnolls, and one single remaining hill giant was a scene right out of Tolkien. The Warlord finally made his appearance then, but there was a complication. He was surrounded by at least forty nude women of various races, all shambling along like zombies. He was using them as shields.
“Top priority orders. Get close to the Warlord with your anti magic area, protect as many hostages as possible, incapacitate and extract The Warlord. Rain will use precision munitions to neutralize anything that attempts to interfere with those objectives. Clear?” I issued the orders to the two of them and gauged their responses.
“Right away Mr. Gray.” Tabula might as well have just heard me order some tea. She then did something fully unexpected. She casually unbuttoned her blazer and the top two buttons of her shirt, revealing a ridiculous amount of cartoonish cleavage. “Now if you’ll excuse me.”
I couldn’t reply fast enough, my brain had momentarily frozen. Jade was unfazed and simply rolled her reptilian eyes as Tabula walked in a straight line swaggering like a runway model toward The Warlord’s entourage.
“Halt!” The bellowing call carried to every monster in the horde. The Warlord was watching the approaching woman, she was more beautiful than anything he had seen in his long and lecherous life. Was she an offering to him? Some last ditch hope to be spared his wrath? It was too strange. What was that huge thing in the sky, and where had this woman appeared from? There had been nothing but an empty field a moment before. “Woman! Stop there... What is your purpose?”
“I can simply see you appreciate beautiful women. I’d rather be at your side than in your path. Is that so strange?” Her voice was music, and her words made sense. Of course she would abandon her own weakling people to spare her own skin.
“Very well! After I drain the blood from this valley you shall be my favorite new plaything.” The Warlord boasted. “Come stand with the others and watch!”
“Of course.” She approached and the naked women parted. As Tabula passed close, something very subtle happened that The Warlord might have noticed if he weren’t so transfixed on the approaching pinnacle of lascivious beauty. Awareness returned to the vacant eyes of every woman that was touched by Tabula’s anti magic area.
Moments later Tabula stood within arm’s reach of the bestial demon. Yellow saliva dripped freely from the wide maw, and gusts of rotted meat scented breath rolled over her.
“Now even if you meant to betray me there is no escape from my power.” The Warlord purred, not noticing the growing clamor around him as women came to their senses.
“I’m afraid I have deceived you.” Tabula regarded the demon calmly. “You’re going to be incapacitated. Feel free to resist, however while I won’t destroy you I have no standing orders against torturing you.” Tabula spoke clearly but by the look dawning on The Warlord’s face she might as well have just spoken gibberish.
“How are you unaffected!? No matter, I don’t need any magic to break a woman!” Two lunging seven fingered hands flashed toward Tabula faster than any normal human could have reacted.
“I wouldn’t.” Tabula began but The Warlord didn’t heed the warning.
His hands passed through some type of field, and suddenly turned silver as though coated in a layer of molten aluminum. They then simply vanished as the liquid metal began to climb up the demon’s huge arms, dissolving everything it touched. The Warlord opened his mouth but the pain and shock were so intense that no sounds came forth.
“Microscopic flesh eating robots.” Tabula blinked twice and the liquid slowly vanished from the stumps at The Warlord’s biceps, returning to their position surrounding her. As the first drops of dark blood began to spray from the grotesque wounds, a scream erupted from one of the women.
“Jade.” Tabula spoke, knowing that the dragon would easily hear her. “Like we discussed.”
Jade appeared then, and dozens of barriers shimmered into existence beneath the feet of the women as they began to panic.
“We are here to save you all.” Tabula assured them loudly. “Please try to be calm.” Tabula used her powerful skills to resonate a tone that commanded compliance. Most of the women got the message, and even restrained the few that were too hysterical. The barrier platforms carried them away in groups of five to ten, and they vanished as they entered the concealing area around EDEN.
In the span of nine seconds, The Warlord had lost both arms and all of his prized slaves. He looked to the side and began to scream a final command to attack. Their sheer numbers could bury these two monsters. What he saw then gave him a surge of hope.
Yugal ran toward the horde’s northern flank with his mighty club held high. The monsters cheered, and The Warlord’s regeneration began to reclaim his lost flesh. Reliable Yugal would easily turn the tide. That vile woman, and that bastard man would pay dearly now. The giant didn’t slow, and The Warlord’s growing excitement turned to confusion as Yugal leaped high into the sky before crashing down and obliterating more than a dozen of The Warlord’s own forces.
That was my cue. With a deep breath and a quick prayer to a certain poser deity, I exploded into a sprint toward the thickest concentration of monsters.