“This barrier is the best investment we spent on this year,” they heard a familiar voice as Zola and her advisors appeared from the parting crowd. “I don’t want to sound ungrateful for your presence, but how did you get here? We didn’t manage to send out anyone after the attack.”
“We were attacked as well,” the dark elf replied as he looked at Galen and Magda, both tired and in quite a sorry state at this point. “After we dealt with them, Quentin wanted to come here.”
“But why here?” Magda looked at the paladin.
“Because the one that tried to infiltrate the mountain pass was disguised as the messenger you usually send to bring news.”
“Sanders?” Zola hummed. “That can’t be, He should have been at Escroft to deliver my orders to the locals.”
“Anyway,” the dark elf pulled the conversation back on track. “What the hell happened here?”
“Hell happened,” Magda replied. “From what we know, a wine merchant arrived here with a couple of mercenaries protecting him. The guards checked the documents and everything was fine but as soon as the cart reached the town square, the mercenaries surrounded it and slit their throats. Our soldiers saw them do it and a moment later the cart itself exploded as well.”
“The bastards opened a hole to the infernal realms,” Galen said, spitting on the ground in disgust. “And the moment they did, these beasts started pouring out of it.”
“That shouldn’t be possible,” Valerie said after hearing their explanation. “A couple of mercenaries wouldn’t be able to make a dent in the Veil, let alone break it open and connect it to the infernal realms. It would require dozens of sacrifices if not hundreds.”
“Unless the carriage itself was the sacrifice.” The dark elf remarked.
“Wine merchant my ass,” the infernal woman cussed as she realized the meaning of her friend’s words. “Those barrels must have been filled with blood.”
“And the cart itself was likely inscribed with the ritual spell.” Galen caught on to the matter, Magda nodding in agreement.
“I’m glad you’re having a field day deducing the ‘HOW’ of this shit-storm,” Cruz sighed. “But shouldn’t we try to figure out how to get rid of these little shits instead?”
“I couldn’t see any sign of the Hell-tear when we arrived,” Valerie stated. “Even with several barrels’ worth of blood serving as the sacrifice, they couldn’t have opened it for more than a minute or so.”
“Even if it was only open for a minute, they still managed to flood Mistfield with imps and lesser demons.” Magda said with a tired voice.
“We had to kill about a hundred and a half of them if not more to get here,” Quentin recalled. “Judging by the corpses piled up around the barrier, You likely managed to kill at least five or six hundred more.”
“And there’s still about twice as many outside if not more.”
“I’d say it’s about a thousand,” Regis looked at the steadily growing army that kept banging at the barrier of the domain heart. “The barrier should be strong enough to hold out for a few more hours, but it’s best if we get rid of them before that or we might risk the ‘domain heart’ getting over-drawn and damaged.”
“Any suggestions?” Sir Desimir asked, the old soldier eyeing up the still-panting rescue team.
“More of the same as before. Your soldiers should keep stabbing at anything within spear range of the barrier. As for us, we’ll split the team in two. Two of us should help heal the injured while the other three help get rid of the enemy.”
“We need to clear the place in half an hour or so,” Cruz spoke up after a few moments. “Otherwise, we won’t be able to get word back to the others in Thornfell.”
“She’s right,” Quentin agreed. “If they don’t get word soon, they will send out Osmond to inform Master Felix.”
“Then we better get to it.” Amanda shrugged as she headed to the area where the injured were lying.
“You should go and help her,” the dark elf turned toward the paladin. “You’re better geared toward healing than me anyway.”
“Yeah,” Quentin nodded as he patted the loremaster on the shoulder. “Give them hell and do it fast.”
“I know. I don’t want to get lectured by Letty for being late.”
Despite the dreary situation they found themselves in, the two couldn’t stop themselves from laughing after the absurd statement.
“If I wouldn’t know better, I’d say you’re more scared of her than an army of demons.”
"Lord, it is difficult to be married to an angry spouse," Regis rehearsed the old saying. "And I know it better than to make her angry."
“Don’t I know?” Quentin sighed, earning a rueful look from Valerie.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” The paladin stretched the word as he hurriedly headed over to help the injured.
The infernal woman gave him an unmistakable death glare before unfurling her whip, heading toward the nearest choke point where the imps piled up against the barrier. Regis followed her example, summoning another ‘elemental orb’ which he shot outside the barrier where it began to spit out light element infused magic bolts at the army of demons and imps below it.
Several such orbs followed in tow, the dark elf only stopping to regain some of his spent arcana before continuing with the spells. The demons and imps fell by the dozens, their numbers slowly decreasing even though they kept flooding in from the rest of Mistfield’s streets. Their bodies started to pile up on the edge of the barrier, its light element infused energy searing the corpses black.
“We’re not going to make it in time.” Valerie said as she watched their enemies who still numbered in the hundreds, pushing away the corpses of their fallen kin without any remorse or care for their own safety.
Stolen story; please report.
“These little shits are relentless!” Cruz yelled as she stammered back after a demon tried to yank her outside the barrier when she swung too far out with her staff.
“I should be able to open a doorway to the portal at the market square. Can you use it to go back home and tell the others what’s going on?”
“That could work but what am I going to tell them?”
“That we’re waist-deep in dead demons over here?” Cruz asked back after blasting the insolent demon in the face with a bolt of light.
“Alright, let’s retreat for a bit.” The dark elf panted as he sat down behind the group of guards that re-joined the fight after getting healed.
Regis tried to shut out the yelling soldiers and the death screams to meditate and regain his spent arcana, but the task proved difficult. A good fifteen minutes later he stood back up, ready to cast the doorway spell. Valerie seemed as prepared as she could be and gave him a slight nod to encourage him.
As the spell was cast, a shimmering vortex spread out in front of them, the image in the middle clearing up enough so that they could recognize the sight of the market square. The buildings were still run down and burning but they couldn’t see any enemies nearby.
“Go!” Regis said and the infernal stepped through the doorway, hurrying over to the rune-carved stone tiles that housed the local gateway.
Regis closed the doorway and slumped onto the ground as soon as she disappeared in the familiar flash of light.
“So what now?” Amanda asked as she and the others watched the arcane doorway close.
“We’ll keep on doing what we have done so far. Stay behind the barrier and try to kill as many of these things as possible.”
“Even if we keep up this pace,” Quentin sighed. “It’s gonna take at least another hour before we can mop up this mess.”
“Would you rather go outside the barrier to fight?” The loremaster teased his companion, earning a slight head shake.
For the following hour, the four outlanders and the guardsmen of Mistfield kept on killing the demons and imps that tried to smash their way through the barrier, the soldiers whispering quiet prayers while fighting for their homes.
“You know what I don’t understand?” Amanda asked no one in particular. “They know they can’t get in. They see that touching the barrier hurts them and they still keep coming at us without any hesitation.”
“And the question is...” Regis hummed after stabbing an imp in the chest, pulling his blade staff back behind the barrier which stopped the corpse of the creature from entering along with the weapon.
“Why? What makes them so suicidal?”
“It’s not that they are suicidal,” the dark elf explained. “They’re compelled to do it. You know how Natalie can charm people and bend their wills to her own wishes?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s the same for these things but a lot stronger. An archdemon is like a king or an emperor in their little corner of the infernal realms. What they say goes, no matter what you think. If he orders ten thousand lesser demons and imps to go into a battle to the death, then they will do so without hesitation because the archdemon’s will overwrite their own.”
“That’s fucked up.”
“Not really,” Cruz argued. “It’s pretty much the same here as well. I mean, just think about it. A noble orders their soldiers to go to war and they will do it. The difference with demons is that the orders are magically enforced to prevent deserters.”
“Even so, to sacrifice thousands just like that...”
“It might seem cruel or pointless to you,” Regis sighed as he rested for a moment, the constant stabbing and spell-casting taking its toll on him. “But for them, it’s a convenient way to get rid of the excess.”
“Excess what?”
“Mouths to feed,” Magda spoke up from behind them, sitting down on a small wooden stool as many of the soldiers openly eavesdropped on the group. “According to the books I’ve read on the matter, the infernal realms have a dog eats dog, or in this case, a demon eats demon law. The lands are infertile, covered in ash and charred to glass in places. What little can survive in such a world is by no means enough to feed a destructive race like the demons.”
“So they infiltrate or outright invade other realms for territories and food.” Galen added from the side, bringing over a few water skins to quench the thirst of the surrounding guards.
“So you’re saying that they purposefully send oversized groups of soldiers in hopes of conquering their target and if they fail, at least they won’t have to worry about feeding them since they're dead.”
“Exactly. Cruel, but efficient.”
“Do you think the others are okay?” Cruz switched the subject after getting back on her feet.
“Valerie should have made it in time,” Quentin noted. “Now she can calm them. Otherwise, they might just decide to...”
“Join the fray?” Regis finished the train of thought?
“Yeah.”
“They’re smart enough not to do that. If we needed their help, then we would have asked for it.”
“True enough.” Cruz shrugged as she decided to get back to bashing in imp skulls.
The number of still-living creatures outside the barrier shrank rapidly in the following half an hour, the slowly darkening sky only finding a few leftover imps still banging at the barrier. When the last of the creatures was killed, everyone let out a collective sigh of relief.
“Thank the Seven it’s over!” One of the guards said as the tired soldiers sat down wherever they could find a free spot, weariness taking over their still shaky bodies.
“Damn, that’s a lot of corpses.” Amanda noted as they looked at the piles of singed imps and demons on the other side of the barrier.
“This is going to take a while to clean up.” Cruz added.
“That’s not our job,” Regis said as he looked back at old Desimir and Zola. “We should make sure that there are no stragglers and make our way to the main square. The sooner we can close the town’s gates the sooner you can secure Mistfield.”
“We must also tend to our fallen,” Zola said with a deep sigh. “The damages also have to be assessed and I must send scouts to Escroft as well. The mercenaries could only come through that road.”
“I’ll tend to the guards and the townsfolk,” Magda spoke her mind, earning a nod from Zola. “Try not to get into too much trouble while you’re out there.”
“Can’t make any promises.” Galen answered her remark as they prompted the soldiers to clear the way for them.“You should stay here as well, milady.” Old Desimir called out to Zola, the young noblewoman relenting with a tired expression as she understood his thoughts.
It took significant effort to push aside the piles of corpses that barred the way toward the main street. The soldiers were tired and wary of every noise as they worked. It also took some time to gather the outlanders their hard-earned Amaranth. Although the imps gave little of it individually, their sheer numbers more than made up for it.
“Hey Regis,” the half-giant cleared his throat while nodding toward the corpses. “Shouldn’t we…”
“Go ahead,” Galen remarked from the side with a knowing look. “Magda and I will do the same with our share as well.”
The group didn’t need any further incentive to use the ‘corpse sacrifice’ ritual, earning a few attribute orbs for their hard work. Once the ritual was over and the path was clear, they could finally head out.
Quentin and Amanda went forward, shield and warhammer in their hands in case an imp decided to pop out of one of the many buildings. Mistfield was eerily quiet for a place that was still embroidered in war just a few minutes ago, only the sound of the crackling flames and slowly collapsing building to be heard around them.