I shot back into the base camp, hurtling forth like a cannonball fired from a Cheshirian Galleon. The monstrous creature hovered overhead, its vein-like tentacles flailing wildly as it attempted to slaughter any living creature within reach.
My eyes widened in realization as I saw the creature's robes and the cackling disembodied head floating next to it. It was the same outfit worn by Micarlin, the Drow mage.
I narrowed my eyes in fury as all the pain and rage the man had caused me flashed through my memories.
Red mist poured forth from beneath his robes, forming heart-shaped patterns. Hundreds of vein-like tendrils whipped from its arms and neck. A somber symphony filled the air - melancholic strings with a percussion backing and distorted choir, which came with a distinct and familiar crackling noise that filled the air around us. A line of demonic script filled the sky, spelling out 'Knave of Hearts.'
"Tch!" I spat.
Unfortunately, this was... objectively not too terrible of a situation for something like this to happen. It was a mystery as to how they came to be, but Champions were undoubtedly the most dangerous demons one would encounter in the field. The fact that we had an army of adventurers around us away from a major settlement was almost ideal.
I looked around, taking in the situation and gritting my teeth. We were at the base camp for this expedition, which was now entirely distorted to an unnatural shape and color. About two dozen adventurers were gathered now, and dozens more were strewn about the base camp with their bodies broken and torn apart.
My eyes darted around, searching for Alice and Haigha.
But I couldn't see either of them anywhere...
There!
I spotted Haigha running for cover near one of the tents, carrying Alice, and I dashed after them immediately. I dodged between two drakeborn men in plate armor, who crouched low to face the monster before jumping off in their direction.
But instincts kicked in as I leaped into the air. A sudden feeling of doom struck me as I sailed toward my sister.
If I don't change course, I'm going to die.
I weaved in midair as half a dozen tendrils snaked past me, and I quickly drew my sword as the thin vein-like tendrils around looped to intercept me.
Clear your mind. Let not the worries of the future triumph over the present.
Father's lessons rang in my memories as I spun in a spiral, slashing through the air.
The tendrils stopped dead in their tracks as my sword sliced cleanly through each of them without resistance or effort. I twisted to face the monster, cutting another larger tentacle in half as I did.
Its disembodied head started chuckling mockingly before twisting into the distorted shape of a crown. Six portals opened up, and horrific abominations took shape.
Then something hit me hard from the side, knocking me back. I crashed into some of the tents, sending them flying backward as I struggled to regain control of my body. I twisted my torso slightly and found myself staring at the giant form of a humanoid, bearlike beast. Its skin was distorted and red, almost like fire-baked clay mixed with dried blood as it finished forming.
Large veins covered its entire frame, making it seem like a mass of sinewy muscles rather than anything resembling human flesh. It flailed four large arms around, rampaging through the campsite. The seemingly blind creature moved its neck around, apparently losing track of me. Then, it continued rampaging past me and made a beeline for where Alice and Haigha fled.
It was another greater demon. The Knave had summoned six of these.
Its eyes were sewn tightly shut, and its mouth opened wide as if it were constantly preparing; it seemingly paid me no mind as it charged ahead at them.
You're not going anywhere near my sister, fuckface!
I raised my sword high and lunged forwards, prepared to take advantage of the opening.
But then, a premonition struck me.
Control your rage. Father's words echoed in my ears. Become one with the world. Draw upon the strength of your mind.
I let out a short breath and turned my lunge into a feint, flaring my ki while adding a stutter to my step. The creature instantly reacted to intercept my first movement. Its mouth extended forth to snap over my head as I would have been off balance.
But I was already prepared, and my stance was firmly planted. The runes of my sword lit up, and I jumped through in a flash behind the monster with a two-handed swing. My sword blow landed true as I cut through the beast effortlessly, slicing cleanly through its neck and severing its spinal cord.
I dropped to the ground, breathing heavily as the monster fell limp for a second before recomposing myself. One couldn't afford to rest in a situation like this.
A nearby party of six had moved to flank the Knave. The five other greater demons fell upon them in an instant, corraling them. The Knave spun, whipping hundreds of tendrils into a whirlwind as it fell upon them. The group of men and women screamed for the briefest moment before they turned into fine, red mist, and the Knave carried on into the adventurers that had just begun forming ranks.
Most of the adventurers managed to scramble, dodge, and pull back, but others weren't quite fast enough. Several adventurers screamed as they lost their limbs to the whirling blades of death: others, their heads.
I looked around the battlefield if you could even call it that. A little over two hundred adventurers had come up here for the expedition; by now, somewhere between thirty-five and fifty were already dead in the opening minutes.
Out of nowhere, an encircled wall of stone erupted from the ground, intercepting the spinning tendril blades. More and more stone structures sprang up in the camp, trapping the five demons and the Knave. Cedric and his party had finally caught up.
"Bloody Buri's balls," either Cedric or Dermot cursed, "What the hell is going on?"
It was hard to tell the twins apart from a distance, but Cedric had bought us precious seconds for a reprieve.
"It's a fookin' champion!" Jervon shouted, pointing towards the swirling vortex. "Ah cann' believe it! Fahnally!"
I glared in irritation as the dwarf cackled in manic glee and began doing stretches right before us.
Dinah caught up next behind them. Her eyes widened at the landscape around us, "Here and now of all times!?!" she hissed as her tail rose in the air and her hair puffed out. Then, she turned to look up into the air. "What's the plan, Tarrant?"
Tarrant flew in, propelled by his propellant boots, cursing and spitting the entire way, "This is difficult...we have less than sixteen combat-ready Rank B adventurers here and the only Rank A is Balthasar. We can fight it but..."
The dwarf, I presumed was Dermot, looked around at the carnage and quickly finished for Tarrant. "We must ensure the less experienced get away from the Knave safely." He pointed at the chaos surrounding us, "If we don't act quick, there won't be much left. The best they could do is hold down the greater daemons."
All around us, dozens of adventurers scrambled in the chaos. Many of them attempted to scoop up their possessions. A few less scrupulous ones - mostly out-of-towners that I could see, were looting unattended tents.
I looked around, searching for Haigha and Alice, and I frowned in worry when I failed to see them anywhere.
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The stone prison Cedric summoned cracked, then exploded in a shower of shrapnel. Cedric immediately waved his staff and dissipated the shrapnel into dust right as it exploded and dropped the dust to the ground to prevent it from obscuring our vision.
A dissonant cacophony of clashing steel filled the area as several groups tried to corner and surround the Knave sloppily. But he simply laughed as the adventurers swarmed him, turning his attention onto anyone trying to get close.
"Fiona!" Tarrant snapped to the dwarf women with the Bristlestone brothers, "We need a Soothing Ballad right now! Elora, go put on a fucking performance with your wife that will wake the bloody Dreamer himself!!
Fiona nodded thoughtfully at the Chief and pulled out an Ulodin reed flute.
She held it in front of her mouth and began to play a soothing tune. As she played, the ground beneath our feet rippled, and I felt the tension in the air begin to leave me.
The maddening sound of crackling and distorted voices diminished and disappeared entirely as music fueled by positive emotion, and mana poured forth from Fiona's flute to wash over the encampment. Fiona's melody sliced through the crackling noises, standing alone as a single, hopeful tune. Elora gracefully walked up beside her, and in a flash, her steel and leather armor transformed into a traditional red dwarven Flamenca dress.
The pair of dwarven women moved together in tandem, painting a sight to behold. Elora's golden eyes and Flamenca sparkled as she twirled about in circles with a pair of castanets, and her ankle-length twin braids kicked up sparks and smoke as she danced. Her red dress and golden eyes contrasted Fiona's silver eyes and shoulder-length brown hair as she began to play away with her reed flute.
The couples' reverie caused a small tornado strewn with red and gold autumn leaves to spin above the campsite, catching everyone's attention. The people around the camp stopped stumbling over each other and scrambling and started paying attention to the dwarven artists.
Then, the two women turned their backs to the audience and faced one another. Their eyes locked together as Elora began to sing a song that was both beautiful and haunting. The song was charged with pure love and adoration, which poured forth as the two jumped and twirled in the air.
Elora's dance became more elaborate as she spun on her hands and flipped, leaving a trail of golden light where she flowed. The entire encampment rallied and ceased their panic as the dwarven couples' performance took effect and lifted our spirits.
[https://i.imgur.com/jQs5T56.png]
More bards around us blinked, startled, then fell back to more tactically sound positions. One after another - three, then five, and seven bards began to add layers to the dwarven couple's ballads.
A rallying, triumphant brass layered onto the ballad, and soon, a full orchestra of musicians joined in with percussion instruments and uplifting strings. Red tendrils lashed out to intercept the bards, but Jervon flashed through the tendrils, wreathed in flames.
"HA! Yer bums out the window wit that!" The stocky dwarf berserker cackled back at the Knave of Hearts with a pair of double-bladed axes.
He followed up immediately by looping around and tossing his spear at the Knave's core, which was promptly intercepted and snapped in half.
"Ah, bolt ya dafty..." he pouted.
A somber but hopeful, electric bloom riff filled the air as a familiar giant armored grizzly bear took to the center of the camp. Balthasar wielded a great maul in his left hand and a great axe in his right hand.
One intrepid bard wearing a colorful red feathered hat and green poncho slid in front of him on his knees, thrumming a blooming bass line as Balthasar began to shout.
"FORM RANKS!" Balthasar bellowed with a booming voice, "Direct combat Rank D adventurers and non-combatants, retreat to the back and tend to the injured right this instant! You will be a greater hindrance than boon. Rank Cs and D-ranks ranged specialists with bloody balls of steel and stone worth discussing, engage the summons!"
Adventurers were still pouring out from the dungeon entrances to join the fray, and well around thirty had joined the battle now, including us. I noticed Balthasar turning his eyes to see about three dozen adventurers join us. Then, his dark bear eyes turned bright blue.
A crackle of lightning surrounded Balthasar, and he exploded toward one of the five remaining bear demons and swung down with his massive Warhammer, crushing its head in an instant. The monster fell limp and slumped immediately.
Balthasar raised his massive hammer overhead, and the crowd cheered as he roared mightily. An explosion rang through the battlefield from behind some of the tents, causing me to raise my eyebrows.
What was that?
No matter; I couldn't afford distractions right now.
I felt my ki swell, and my anger and anxiety dissipated as the bard songs filled the air. Two more dancers joined Elora in her dance as a rainbow of blue, green, red, and gold emotional magic burst forth from their performance.
I drew my sword again and surveyed the battlefield again, searching for Haigha and my sister.
Where were they?
Much as mana is an energy drawn from the very core of the soul itself, ki is an energy formed from an individual's body and fighting spirit. They drew from the same source - the very spirit and essence of an individual and using one often drained the other. Someone with massive amounts of mana and a weak body like my sister would completely exhaust her spirit using the most basic of Ki Arts, and I would drain my aura entirely if I attempted to cast the spells she once did.
For a trained warrior, actively focusing on one's ki offered a strengthening layer to the flesh, muscles, bones, and organs. It also protected the very mind of a warrior against mental and spiritual assault and could be used in bursts for ki arts such as my father's martial arts techniques. Father's runeblade arts combined spell foci through runes and gemstones with ki arts.
On the other hand, exhaustion and accumulated injury would weaken the ki and projected aura of an individual. In a practical sense, that meant every trade of blows, every movement, or ki art used would make one increasingly vulnerable in battle for a lethal blow. A warrior with low morale, spirit, and will to fight would also have the potency of their combat aura drastically diminished.
The worst part about fighting demons, from my experience, is their ability to strike fear and terror into the hearts of their victims. A downright fearful, distracted, and panicked warrior would be cut down like nothing for a champion like the Knave of Hearts.
But the Knave would not be dissuaded, and he began to cackle once again as his tendrils tore into the ranks of adventurers around him. With our morale shored up, the close-combat specialists could finally parry, slice, and begin to fend off his long tendrils.
Friar Dodgson jumped into the fray, throwing up a spiderwebbed barrier of hard light at the front of a formation of a dozen of our adventurers I'd best describe as bruisers. Balthasar spearheaded the assault as seven burly men and women, including Jervon, flanked him wielding halberds, axes, and two-handed swords, defending our long-range attackers.
They quickly carved their way through the tendrils while keeping themselves safe behind their defensive shield wall. The Chief flew over the formation, giving specific instructions to mages and archers like Dinah. Barrages of spells and arrows began to find a home, striking the Knave of Hearts in his body. The Knave had been turned into a pincushion in a few seconds by our onslaught.
But he kept laughing mockingly.
Another explosion rang out through the campsite, causing me to tilt my head in its general direction.
Could it be...?
Jervon yelled something incoherent as he jumped to the fray on the side. He and Dermott began to push back the greater demons chomping at our sides. They were supported by a line of mages throwing spells as they pushed the demons back.
The tendrils surrounding his body expanded further before hundreds of tendrils came poised to crash into a semi-circular dome around us. I held my sword steady and focused on the four runic symbols along its hilt.
Walking in behind our front-line fighters, I breathed as they cleared a path.
Then, I unleashed the first of four seals on my runeblade.
As I focused my mana and fighting spirit alike into the blade, it grew larger and became imbued with the essence of light and darkness. The edge became increasingly curved as the blade thickened and extended to the size of my body. The runes shone a bright white, then blue, and the entire sword lit up with a bright blue radiance.
My father's sword was forged from the blood of dragons; when unsealed, it could drain energy from any source. This included that of the user, and this energy could be channeled and unleashed into short-term, powerful bursts for ki attacks. This made the runeblade highly versatile in terms of its offensive capabilities, but it had a massive drawback in energy drain as well as hampering my mobility and ability to use ki arts. It was ideal for a battle like this, where every second counted and was filled with treachery, and I was in a complete battle formation.
It was a conceptual weapon created for my father in my parents' ill-fated quest to slay one of the four demon generals back in their adventuring days. It was a quest that had ultimately ended in failure and tears. However, my parents had brought home a consolation prize in wealth and treasures with what remained of their expedition.
"HYAAA!"
I struck the ground, and with a flash, a sphere of pure mana burst forth from the blade and struck the ground between the Knave of Hearts and me.
Then, a wall of pure azure energy surged forth, consuming the Knave of Hearts' tentacled body. He shrieked as the energy continued to grow until it enveloped him entirely.
After several moments, the energy subsided, leaving only a cloud of smoke lingering above the battlefield. The Knave of Hearts was nowhere to be seen.
I breathed a sigh of relief as the tension of the battle lifted from my shoulders. Cheers erupted across the field - we won!
Yet another explosion rang out from the tree area, which made me look up in confusion.
What was that?
I had a sneaking suspicion at the back of my mind. Call it instinct. Call it experience.
My instincts suddenly screamed at me, and I dove to the left with a burst of ki as red tendrils suddenly lashed up from beneath the surface of the earth. Screams filled our ranks as we scrambled away from the attack.
I could only stare on horror, heart pounding as I saw dozens of tentacles reach from the ground and grab hold of half our fighters. The performance of the bards and dancers abruptly halted as the horrible crackling noise returned.
No!
Dinah jerked back in shock as one tendril; then two, then three, wrapped up around her legs. Another grabbed her by her arm, yanking her backward and down to the ground.
Friar Dodgson grunted in pain as a tendril pierced through his wings. He struggled and tried to free himself, but the creature pulled harder and faster than he could manage. Another tendril, then yet another stabbed through his left leg and his right arm.
Then, the cries of terror and agony began to fill the air once more.