Chapter 3
Again and Again
“On your feet, maggot!”
“On your feet, maggot!”
“On your feet, maggot!”
“On your feet, maggot!”
“On your feet, maggot!”
“On your feet…”
“On your…”
How many times has it been already? Ten, Sylas calculated quickly. He died ten times altogether. Some deaths were far more gnarly than the others, though it was hard to say that any one was painless. He died to a ghoul six times total, twice on the tower, and four times whilst trying to run around the castle and scout out the situation. He died once to a blinding explosion, once to, embarrassingly, slipping on the wet stone and keeling over the tower’s railing, falling headfirst onto the ground before the ghouls even invaded, and twice to just random debris hitting him in the head.
In the process of dying more times than humans have evolved to, he’d learned a few extra things from the rowdy guard that woke him up each time. The man’s name was Tebek and he was one of the four Guard Captains of the castle, in charge with the southwest watchtower and its surrounding region, precisely the one that Sylas was tasked with ‘guarding’.
Tebek, luckily, was both a loudmouth as well as a chatterbox, and Sylas only had to poke slightly for the man to burst. Ghoul attacks, according to him, weren't anything extraordinary—especially in these parts. Further up north, beyond the borders of the communal 'Human Kingdoms', lay a wretched wasteland bordering a sea that was home to all sorts and manner of beasts and creatures, all more inhumane than the last. Ghouls were merely one type of them but were also the type to most frequently cross into the 'Human Kingdoms', partly because they were just brainless zombies moving on instinct and partly because they were one of the weakest creatures along the peninsula's shores.
In fact, according to Tebek, things will likely even get worse as the winter months approach. Their current castle, promptly named Castle Ethwar, was one of the six major northern outposts in charge of both spotting and delaying the invasion. It was a thankless role and, as such, the Noble in charge was sent here as punishment—which was the case with the one before him.
What confused and even angered Sylas was that even though the Noble did have sons… none of them were in the castle. The likeliest target of his quest was gone and he was, once again, shooting in the dark. For all he knew, it could be virtually anyone.
Additionally, he learned that the castle had already deflected four ghoulish invasions just during the summer months. Usually, however, they were very weak, with Ghouls numbering only in a few dozen at best. They’d also invade during the day and would trigger many advance warning systems, affording the castle hours of preparation time so that, by the time the Ghouls arrived, they would be met by a barrage of arrows and bolts, easily killing them off.
Just comparing the descriptions of those invasions and the one that Sylas lived through was all it took to spot the countless discrepancies. Not only did the Ghouls attack in insanely larger numbers, but they also attacked during the dead of the night, in complete silence, dodging all of the traps on their way to the castle walls. Furthermore, they had something breach the castle walls for them, and just a watchman ringing the bell wasn’t enough of a warning for the castle to get ready.
During his trips through the innermost parts of the castle, he saw that the guards were actually favorable in single combat. Ghouls were slow and languid and if people were able to mount over the initial terror, it wasn't all that difficult to defeat and even kill the creatures. The problem was, however, the adjustment time—most, if not all of the castle guards had only ever 'fought' the Ghouls from the safety of the castle walls, and only a few ever engaged with them in close combat.
Sylas suspected that even Tebek was lying about his encounter and was just boasting himself since he never ran into the man on his treks, as though the Captain simply vanished into the night. However, it wasn’t as though Sylas actively looked for him, so it might just be that he was always one of the first ones to rush to the front and die trying to prevent the flood.
“It’s… fucked,” Sylas sighed, leaning against the stone railing of the tower, looking up at the moon above. “I don’t have a weapon, a map, any skills, or any knowledge of this world… but at least I know I’m a complete newbie here.”
That was something he learned during the last one of his ‘lives’; Tebek had let it slip that he had arrived just yesterday as part of the volunteer squad composed of able-bodied men from the rural villages. Though that didn’t completely prove that nobody knew him, the fact that it was usually just one man per village made it all but certain.
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He also realized that he probably squeezed as much as he could from Tebek and that it was time to move on. But the question was… move on to what exactly? He did try and sneak into the deepest parts of the castle, but he always failed. Though, in all fairness, he only ever moved toward it when the invasion began, meaning that he usually had roughly little less than an hour before the castle was completely overwhelmed. If he snuck away now…
“It’s too late this time, anyway,” he mused, glancing over the railing. Tonight, he already had a goal in mind: that blinding light from the second time that he died… he wanted to know what it was. It was also likely the source of whatever destroyed the walls and if he could identify it… it might help. After all, the reason why the castle falls so quickly is unequivocally that the walls are breached practically instantaneously.
He stayed wide-eyed deep into the night, the harrowing scenario slowly repeating. Spotting the ghouls, he took a deep breath and carefully observed. The last time around, the light blinded him right after the Ghouls reached the walls. He’d have to dip back down before that moment and dip out right after if he wanted to see anything.
Counting the seconds and seeing the Ghouls reaching toward the stone, he hurriedly went down to the ladder in the squared hole, hiding, waiting. One second, two, three, four, five… it was precisely six seconds later that the world quaked and shook. His happiness over not being blinded lasted only for a moment as his hand slipped from the ladder due to a sudden jerk and he fell backward. The fall wasn’t terribly long, perhaps ten feet or so, but he fell awkwardly, his spine leading the charge, splattering directly against the cold, hard stone.
The pain burned through him instantaneously as he screamed. As luck or, rather, lack thereof, would have it, he actually survived the fall. He, however, did lose any and all ability to move, and the only thing he could do was blink and flutter his eyelashes—hard to do, however, when every inch of his body felt as though it was being both burned and scalped simultaneously.
Agony persisted as tears swelled into his eyes; he’d never been in more pain in his life. He whimpered and even began praying for a ghoul to come and eat him. Comparatively speaking, even if more gnarly, that way to die was at least less painful. No, it was effectively painless compared to what he was feeling now.
He lost time but, eventually, he did hear the low snarl of the ghastly creature. Rather than horror, he felt joy and almost burst out into cheer. Waiting patiently, it was nearly a minute later that the rotted face hung over his for a moment before it dived down and chomped, killing him.
“On your feet, maggot!”
The hoarse and hateful voice was like an angelic memory all of a sudden. Sylas woke up immediately and jumped to his feet, taking a deep breath. He was saved. Was there a greater irony than having been saved by death itself? In part, he now at least understood why some people choose to go rather than stick around.
“For a Recruit,” Tebek spoke again. “You seem awfully chirpy.”
“Just excited to start my watch,” Sylas replied absentmindedly.
“… is that so? Be careful out there, then.”
“Will do!”
This time! Sylas swore that he’d be more careful and finally unveil the source of that bright light. On their way over to the watchtower, Tebek was surprisingly silent, though it was in part because Sylas didn’t ask anything. The Captain merely warned him once again to be careful before setting off, leaving Sylas to his own devices.
He sat down and leaned against the stone, though didn't dare close his eyes. Too many traumas and nightmares haunted him, to the point that it was like a Russian roulette whenever he closed his eyes—except each chamber had a bullet with a specific, traumatizing memory. He held onto what he used to call ‘fake sanity’ back in his youth; it was merely just a bubbly world made entirely of denial, but, for better or worse, it was effective. It held him stitched together, but, eventually, he’ll fall asleep, he knew.
And once his mind was out of his control, those snakes and those demons would crawl out like worms and devour him. But… that was the future Sylas' problem. The present one's was to figure out what caused that bright light and, in extension, what exactly breached the walls—because it certainly wasn't the Ghouls, no matter how terrifying they may be.
The deep night descended once again. With each passing hour, Sylas’ heartbeat quickened ever so slightly until it was beating like a drum upon the first sighting. He braced himself yet again, descending the ladder immediately, not taking any chances. He glanced at the bell and pondered ringing it, but there was no point. Whether he rang it or not, the castle would fall—at least as things currently stood. If he could identify what caused the breach, he might be able to do something. In the worst-case scenario, he could play a role of a prophet, dying over and over again until he'd gathered enough information to convince everyone. That, however, was the last resort.
Stillness soon overwhelmed him as he braced himself against the wall. The only sounds he could hear were those of his heart and the distant, faint, yet all-the-same terrifying snarls of the Ghouls. Almost by instinct, he knew when the bang would come—and so he grabbed onto the tiny openings in the wall, holding with all his might as the tower shook. The moment the quaking subsided, he raced over to the ladder and ran up its steps toward the top.
Inching toward the railing of the watchtower, he was ready to look all around but there was no need—there, above the major breach where the Ghouls would always pour, he saw it. It was beyond brief, and it wasn’t all that surprising that nobody spotted it in all of his ‘runs’—it was a rapidly-fading circle full of straight lines drawn in patterns. It was hued in milky-white with traces of silver sheen. Despite seeing it, however… that meant nothing to Sylas. It was a circle and even if he could ascertain that it was some kind of a magic circle, what of it? Nothing. Just as helplessness cradled his body, a window yet again appeared in front of him. It confused him momentarily as he was yet to die, after all.
You have grasped a clue.
Deciphering…
The clue: ‘Combustive Magic Circle’ is a Tier-1 Magic Circle. It requires 6 talismans to be placed in a specific pattern beforehand. It is as strong as Inscriptions on those talismans.
Were Ghouls capable of doing magic? No, forget that—were those brainless mutts capable of even saying ‘magic’? No! Definitely not! Which could only mean one thing…
“The Magic Circle was placed,” Sylas mumbled in both shock and confusion. “By somebody on the… inside?”