The rest of the fighting had finished by the time Arakash returned, leaving the entourage to regroup with minor injuries at worst. As one would expect when a group of terrorists attempt a direct assault against a small army of military elites.
Soret stood facing the demon. "Did the assassin escape?"
"No, I caught him. Turns out, he was with some radical cult that thinks your sister's some kind of evil threat to the world." Seeing Soret's expression, Arakash smirked. "That was about my reaction, too. Still, not the craziest thing I've ever heard a cultist tell me, and he believed it. Something about an oracle who can predict the future. But, you know how it goes with torture, and I was hungry."
"You killed him!?" Soret shouted, then glanced around and got control of his emotions. "You know we could have gotten more information off of him!"
"I'm eating for two, in case you forgot." He gestured toward the princess, specifically the hole in her blouse, below her left collar bone. "Someone had to make up for the life force that cost me, and he was the easiest target."
Ada looked down, touched the scorched fabric framing her bare skin. "It would have killed me."
Soret's attitude shifted, in response to his sister's statement. From angry commander to doting older brother in an eyeblink. "It would have, but you're fine, now."
"I knew the ritual was supposed to make me immortal, but I couldn't believe it," Ada said. "It didn't even hurt".
"Speak for yourself, princess," Arakash muttered. "Because if any language has invented words for what I felt, I've yet to hear them."
"Maybe I shouldn't have doubted our father," Soret whispered.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that," Arakash growled. "Do you know how to forcefully summon one of the Noctrel? I won't bore you with the details. But it requires human sacrifice. My estimate is twe-"
In a flash, Soret's blade was pressed against Arakash's throat, "Make no mistake, monster, I don't believe you for a second. But I will not listen to you besmirch my father's name."
"You don't have to believe me," Arakash continued. "Ask any summoner what it takes to call one of my people. While you're at it, see if you can discover what your father did to bind me to your sister. I admit, I'm curious about that, myself. Every scholar of the topic I can name believes it to be impossible to create such a link without consent. However he pulled it off, the cost must have been staggering."
"You're getting desperate," Soret smirked. "It doesn't really matter. Ada knows not to believe your lies".
"Of course I do," she agreed. "I wish you could come with me, I'm going to miss you".
Soret pulled her into a hug. "Be well, sister."
"I'm more worried about you," she answered back before breaking the hug and stepping away. "Come. If we don't hurry, we'll never make it to the dock in time."
Having little choice, Arakash followed behind. "So, we keep marching hot on the heels of an assassination? Things must be more dire than I was lead to believe." He paused for a moment, then when Ada didn't speak, he tried again. "Listen, Princess. The binding compels me to be as effective a guardian as possible. In order for that to be possible, you need to share the mission-critical information with me."
"If you must know," Ada said without looking back. "While you were hunting, my brother contacted our father to inform him of this attack. I was not made privy to the specifics, however the command was made clear: we will complete the mission no matter what obstacles arise."
As the princess and the demon continued on, Fiora stayed behind for a moment. "Princess Adageyudi brings up an important point: now that we know how effective the binding is, what are you going to do?"
Soret sighed. "Nothing I can speak of to you, for your own good. Now, go. I'm entrusting you to a far more important mission."
Fiora clenched her fists. "As you command, m'lord." She turned and walked away, frustrated at her inability to do more to help the man she loved.
The path to the castle broadened, as it became a less steep slope first carved by long-forgotten glaciers, then widened by rain and runoff until what remained was a series of farms well into the growing season. Farmers still worked the fields and vineyards, while the soft glow of magic from peasants who had just enough power to drive off insects and irrigate soil had long since become part of the local ecosystem.
Much better than the glaring magical pollution of the city, which had left Arakash half-blind, in the same way the sun left people blind to the stars which remained even in the middle of the day. Yet, even with the advantage of clearer eyes, he had a mere moment to shout his warning. "Ambush!"
A flash and upsurge of energy was followed by a massive reptile manifesting itself within throwing distance of the group. Eight legs, each as thick as tree trunks, held up a body shaped almost like a pumpkin, if pumpkins were rust-colored, covered in scales, and large enough to build a decent sized tavern inside of. Extending from this body, six long necks, each with a crocodile-like head.
A scholar might have taken offense with the description, stating that the heads were appendages not unlike hands, and that the organs one associated with the head such as brain and mouth were in fact in the creature's back. That scholar would then be eaten by the hydra, having done nothing to deter the creature's carnivorous rampage.
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To be fair to the scholar, however... the knights and mages did not fair much better. Even bolstered by magic, bolt and blade could only accomplish so much against dragon hide. If the beast had done nothing but allow them to assault it, then they might have won after an hour or two, but it had other plans.
With a screech loud enough to shatter eardrums, it drove its assailants back. If only that were the worst it had in mind. It then vomited forth a putrid mix of half-digested prey and draconic bile over itself. The fluid burst into chemical flame and billowed outward in the form of a caustic cloud of pain and death.
Men and women deafened and bleeding from the ears were then blinded by the acidic mist. Left alone with their agony, they died within seconds of inhaling the toxic gas. They were the lucky ones. Others, those with natural resilience or the foresight to bring magic items which shielded against the toxins, instead found that their resistance did nothing but prolong their suffering. Unable to see, unable to breathe, their magic struggling with all its might to keep them alive, they collapsed in the field.
Arakash was one exception; Noctrel immunity to poison was, in fact, immunity. He abandoned his disguise and took to the air even as the others collapsed beneath him. He had no hope of fighting the beast; even a weak dragon like a hydra was well beyond his power, but he didn't need to kill the hydra. He needed to kill the Summoner.
Summoning magic was powerful, but also came with severe limitations, of which there were three that mattered to the guardian demon.
First: summons place severe strain on the body and mind of the caster. A small creature like a bird or cat for spying was difficult for all but the most skilled casters. Something as big as a hydra would render them insensate.
Second: Summoners had to be near the summon, at least when the spell was cast. The distance varied depending on the power of the mage and the summon itself, but it had to be close, and couldn't be blocked by obstacles such as walls or hiding underground. There.
He dived down at the woman sitting in on the ground, drool dripping from her slack jaw onto the wilted blackened grass in her lap. She had been in a good hiding spot within the brush, before the chemical attack killed everything nearby except three people. She didn't blink, didn't register that she was in peril even as the Vilos bone pierced her skull.
Third: summons don't outlive their Summoner. With the mage gone, the congealed pool of mana, will, and concept which summons were made from lost cohesion and returned to the ether from whence they came. Arakash wasn't certain how it all worked, but he knew the only thing that mattered: how to kill it.
Tears streaking down her face, Ada tried again. Purple magic bled out from her eyes, her mouth, even her fingernails as she attempted to heal the body laying on the ground by her knees. "Come on! You're still there, you have to be. You're too strong, you have too much to live for."
Arakash eyed the corpse; no magic he'd ever heard of was going to bring that mess back. Resurrection magic might be able to put the body back together, but draconic magic damaged more than mere flesh. Bad news for Soret, he supposed, since this had to be Fiora's body.
He promised himself to find a way to exploit that, but it would have to wait. "You know, Princess, a lot of people are trying to killing you."
"JUST SHUT UP!!!" Ada twisted around to scream at him. In doing so, she bumped the half-molten corpse. The stomach popped, and spilled outward like an over-ripened watermelon. "No!" She stumbled away in horror, and in the process further tore her own damaged clothing.
Silently, Arakash grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the body. His own magic manifested in his eyes, black tendrils moving outward, down, and into the body of a dead girl once called Fiora. In another moment, he began walking away, dragging Ada with him.
She pulled back, failing to have much effect against the demon's insurmountable strength. "What are you doing? Stop!"
Arakash halted, then glanced back at the princess. He took a breath and pulled her again.
"What is wrong with you! Answer me!"
Arakash growled, now able to speak again. "Listen, Princess, there are at least seven people following us right now. Unless I miss my guess, and I'm very good at guessing, they're coming to see if they need to finish what the Summoner started. We don't want to be here when they arrive."
"How? Why?" Ada started to cooperate, jogging to keep up with Arakash. "What did I ever do?"
"How should I know?" Arakash began picking up speed; on the plus side, it seemed his illusion magic was working and they hadn't been spotted yet. It wouldn't last, but with luck they'd investigate the the battlefield first. He didn't think they had any flyers on their side, either. He hoped they didn't, because then they had to hope this protective magic meant the princess didn't need to breathe. And that the ocean predators would ignore them.
Ada slowed when Arakash took them off the trail, marching straight toward the cliffside. "Where are you going?"
"Our way out, princess." Arakash stopped at the edge of the cliff and grabbed the girl into a bridal carry. Standing almost twice her height, it wasn't hard. Then he jumped over the edge, hoping his ability to at best glide with the extra weight meant they wouldn't hit the rocks below too hard.
Ada screamed the whole way down.