Sparse patches of stalactite-like structures dotted the landscape. They were some form of tree that oozed black resin, Jeremy didn’t stay long enough in his last visit to investigate further.

He was particularly wary of Tartrasil. Its lord was never part of the commune of voices in his head — something Jeremy found odd.

The hastily-made gate was another point of concern. There was no time to mask its appearance or direct the denizens of the plane to another location.

“We need to get the men away from the gems,” he urged Captain Cicero. “I’m pretty sure our presence is known to the lord of the realm.”

“A demon lord?”

Jeremy shrugged. “I honestly don’t know.”

Cicero approached one of the soldiers. He showed no sign of resistance until the captain tried to snatch his pouch of gems. Jeremy watched the unarmed captain struggle with the soldier — not realizing that his attempts at civility were wasted on the spellbound man.

Jeremy bound the man with bands of force — a standard spell for most mages.

The captain nodded in thanks before taking the pouch away from the man and discarding it.

It was an easy task but a tedious one. The wizard could feel every second as they wasted time wrenching the cursed gems from the soldiers that held them dear.

“What of the lordling?” the captain asked, gesturing at the man picking up every discarded pouch.

Jeremy shrugged as he went about stabbing a soldier with the barbed end of his staff.

His screams echoed into the mostly barren valley. The wizard made sure to provide the man with extra healing — just to make sure their illusion of safety was truly shattered.

“Whatever is in this place,” the captain spoke, his voice morose, “it now knows where we are.”

“It knew where we were the moment we got here.”

The wizard moved from the collapsed but conscious soldier into the next one — repeating his painful ritual of healing.

“The pain clears the mind,” he explained to the captain. “They lose their sense of safety and all thoughts of the gems after their minds are filled with pain.”

Jeremy saw the captain frown at the corner of his vision, not realizing what he was doing was the quickest way to get the men back in their right minds — or at least to functional ones.

His first patient came about during his session with the third. The screaming awakened a primordial fear for the wizard, and he tried to stand up to get away.

Fortunately, the captain was there to explain the situation — otherwise, there would be one less man on their trip back.

There could be less by the time we’re done.

After the last scream of the fourth soldier, Jeremy turned to the captain and painted to Lord Norwin. The same treatment might not be quite acceptable — but the wizard believed they had no choice.

“Do it.”

Jeremy smiled, pushing the barbed end of his staff into the lordling’s shoulder, lodging itself deep in his flesh.

The lord’s face kept switching from agony to serenity — probably because of all the gems in his person.

He should have gotten rid of them beforehand, but a part of him wanted to pit the might of his staff with the strange power of the gems.

The lordling screamed, then stopped, then screamed again.

The display lasted for more than a minute — before the captain put an end to it by batting away the pouches in the lord’s hands.

Jeremy frowned. In those last moments, he felt like his staff was starting to win. Another couple of minutes, and they would have won.

He felt a hint of sentience from his staff, a bit of exultation from its nearing triumph and his acknowledgment.

He immediately shut it down with his will. Who had time to listen to a talking staff? Certainly not him.

The four soldiers hastily approached their collapsed lord. Jeremy chuckled, seeing some of them were all smiles when he was saving the lordling.

The silence after all the screaming felt calming — but then he heard the sound of beating wings in the distance.

“We need to go,” Jeremy paused, thinking before pointing to the distance. “That way.”

The captain approached the men, who were still a bit worn from their session, helping them in guiding the lordling towards their new destination.

Jeremy tried to help one of the seemingly weaker guards, but the man cowered before him — shrinking from his touch as if he was full of jerms.

“Give the captain your sword — or Lord Norwin’s” he advised one of the soldiers. “We’re going to need him armed.”

***

What is happening? Why am I so weak?

Norwin slowly regained a semblance of consciousness after his extended therapy session with the wizard.

He remembered the pain — and little else. There was a crevice, and gems, but nothing more after that — except for the pain.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

He stared at the wizard and flinched, remembering the feel of barbs on his shoulder. The wizard was smiling all the time, as if relishing his torment.

Norwin turned to his men for answers, only finding more questions. They remembered finding and collecting the gems — but now, their memories were filled with the wizard and his wicked implement of torture.

The lord searched his person, looking for the gems and finding none.

He took them. He took the gems for himself.

Norwin wanted to charge the wizard and skewer him with his sword — only to find himself disarmed, his weapon now in the captain’s hands.

“That’s my sword,” he weakly groaned at the captain.

“It is, Lord Norwin,” the captain answered. “I will be your sword for the time being — to protect you from those creatures."

His gaze turned to where the captain pointed. At first, he thought they were wyverns — but the more he stared, the more they resembled insects. He could see chitinous segmented bodies — more scorpion than anything else. These ones just had dragon wings, and there were five of them.

“What are those things?” he asked the captain, quickening his steps.

“Inevitable,” the wizard turned back to answer, smiling as ever. “They’ll catch up to us before we reach the next point for the portal.”

“Then open a portal here!”

“Can’t,” the wizard shrugged. “Too much noise, You don’t want to end up somewhere unfamiliar — or underwater.”

"If we can’t outrun them, we’ll make a stand there,” the captain pointed to a copse of strange trees. “Those flying things will have to slow down or drop to the ground to avoid those tree things."

Norwin agreed with the captain, though the wizard looked doubtful.

He remembered the indignities he suffered under the wizard, his wet breeches a sure sign of his shame. Not that it mattered. His men had the same stains on their uniforms — though the armor they were wearing kept their shame more discreet.

They soon arrived at the small formation of trees. It was almost circular. Six needle-like trees oozing black sap — were they enough to deter their flying pursuers?

Norwin turned towards his men. Their haggard forms seem to have recovered during their walk — certainly, since they’ve stopped. He could even feel a burst of energy himself. Too bad he didn’t have his sword.

“This doesn’t feel right, captain.”

The wizard was talking to the captain, who seemed on edge.

“The earth isn’t pulling as hard. Th-the grabity is wrong!”

Norwin frowned at the unfamiliar word, though he did feel a bit lighter. He wanted to test if the wizard’s words held true by reaching for a gold coin in his pockets — he was all too familiar with the weight of a gold coin — but he stopped, staring at the sky.

The strange bug-like creatures were now on top of them, hovering in the air. They looked even stranger up close. Their heads reminded him of ants — if ants had jaws and teeth. All six of their legs ended with mantis-like scythes and their tales seemed much more flexible than a scorpion’s.

These were formidable beasts.

He called his men to his side — even as he struggled to ask for the captain’s help.

The wizard seemed to be casting a spell or whatever it was mages did. He looked like he was struggling, beads of sweat dripping from his forehead.

“Stay close!” the captain warned. “watch each other’s backs!”

The creatures paused. It seemed like one of them was folding its wings.

It dove.

***

“Incoming! To your left!” Cicero warned as one of the flyers dropped into the soldiers.

He wanted to engage the creature, but he couldn’t leave the wizard’s side. The Scourge was acting strange the moment the flyers hovered above them. Was it fear or some other type of magic? Whatever the case, they needed the wizard alive if they wanted to get out of this literal hell hole.

“Are you okay, Scourge? What’s happening?”

“It’s in my head,” the wizard answered. “Not like the others. This one is pushing hard.”

Cicero frowned, not understanding the wizard’s words. All he knew was that he was out of the fight.

After a couple of unsuccessful dives and a few cuts, the flyer dove into the unarmed lordling. The captain could only watch as the creature aimed its scythe-like limbs at the lord, his men seemingly incapable to thwart the suicidal attack.

The young lord scrambled out of the way, grabbing one of his men and inadvertently pulling him into the creature’s path.

“Good move. Points to the lordling.”

He turned towards the Scourge, who still seemed to be struggling. Was his dark humor something like a natural reaction?

Injured as it was, a strong beat of its wings propelled the creature upwards — high enough to clear the strange-looking trees — a soldier in its grasp.

The soldier struggled as the creature flew, stabbing with his sword and forcing it to let go. Or so it looked like.

Cicero watched as the soldier dropped into one of the needle-like trees, unavoidably getting impaled.

The flyer dropped as well, crashing into the ground from its multiple injuries.

Four left, and six — no four of us.

The lordling was cowering from fear and his position was more from his lineage than actual training. The Scourge was out, leaving him and the three remaining soldiers.

Two more flyers started circling above them. Cicero braced for their attack — even as he prepared contingencies to protect their two non-combatants.

“We need longer weapons!”

One of the soldiers seemed panicky. The captain watched as he turned towards the Scourge and his glaive and made a dash for it.

“Don’t!” he warned.

It was too late. The soldier reached for the staff, intent on taking it from the wizard. His hand touched the staff’s golden band and he froze.

The captain could see the soldier’s body fibrillate before he fell to the ground unconscious. Whatever it felt like to be healed by the Scourge’s staff — it was a mere sliver of the pain of willfully touching it.

Three of us now.

The circling flyers gave a guttural screech as they dove consecutively — one towards the soldiers, the other towards the Scourge.

The captain moved to intercept the latter, judging the speed of its descent.

The captain started to run, his eyes trained on the diving insect-like creature. He was too far from the Scourge to make the save, but it was as he had planned — the running was what mattered.

When the flyer was only a man’s height from the Scourge, Cicero vanished.

He appeared in the air at the creature’s, the momentum of his run causing him to barrel into the creature as he teleported.

The two of them dropped hard on the ground, but the captain’s borrowed sword was firmly impaled on the creature’s neck.

Cicero pulled out the sword and beheaded the creature, just to make sure it was dead.

He turned to the others to see another soldier getting impaled. The flyer that took him survived the soldier’s dying attacks. It now hunkered in the ground outside the copse of trees, its wings too damaged to fly again.

Two.

The captain prepared for the inevitable — even as he mustered the strength to keep fighting. Dying was always part of the job — but the dying in hell was a bit unexpected. His grip on the lordling’s sword tightened as he prepared for another assault. He would try his best to survive — or at least do as much damage before he went down.

It was then that he heard someone exhale sharply.

“That was certainly different. What did I miss?”