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Mistaken for a Returnee
Chapter 11 - The Crimson Fleet (pt 1)

Chapter 11 - The Crimson Fleet (pt 1)

While Aldritch was focused on healing himself, Sulika, Faeyra, Derrik, Ralocan, Oladi, Zarud, and Max were standing in a circle with half drank potion vials in their hands.

Faeyra had done her due diligence and passed out lesser healing potions to all of them. They wouldn’t work as well as the spell, but they were good in a pinch, cheap to make, and came with the added benefit of 500MG of pure caffeine to help keep them focused.

There was a slight issue of crashing once everything was over. But that wasn’t a bridge they could worry about right now - not with a few hundred demons still waiting for a chance to tear into them.

With their potions in hand, the seven hunters were having a heated discussion about what the correct path forward was. “I don’t care what he wants.” Max said. “We need to leave, at least until we can get enough reinforcements to make up for our lacking firepower. We need rangers, wizards, a few more sorcerers. Anything to shorten the distance between our attack power and theirs.” He finished while motioning towards the mechanical monster at the end of the road.

“Look; I understand you think that’s the best move.” Sulika said while staring down at Max, a look of annoyance in her emerald eyes. “And I respect your opinion, I really do. But if he thinks we can remove the demon’s hold on this area, I’m inclined to believe him.”

“As am I.” Faeyra said, nodding her agreement.

“I don’t know, boss.” Ralocan replied while massaging the nape of his neck. “I think we’re in over our heads here. Retreating might be the smartest option we have available to us.”

“It may be the smartest option, but that doesn’t mean it’s the best option.” Derrik grumbled. “Think about it for a second: If the demons have that kind of monster on their side, why haven’t we seen them in any other dungeons?” He asked them.

“You’re saying they might be unique to this dungeon.” Oladi muttered while appearing to be deep in thought, her eyes fixed on a spot a few inches in front of her feet. She and Zarud were standing a bit further back from the group than everyone else.

“Aye.” Derrik nodded.

“But why? What makes this place unique compared to every other dungeon we’ve come across?” Ralocan asked, growing frustrated with the way the conversation was going. He just wanted to go home, kick his feet up, and down enough alcohol to make a dwarf blush. Was that so bad?

“Well, it’s been broken for at least a few years now, right? Maybe that’s why it’s different.” Zarud offered. He stood with his arms folded across his chest and his foot tapping to beat only he could hear; the rhythmic tapping of his left foot was a vain attempt to soothe his fraying nerves.

“I’ve dived into broken dungeons plenty of times.” Max interjected. “And I’ve never seen anything like this. Some broken dungeons are different, yes, but not like this.”

“But we know for a fact the dungeons change over time.” Sulika said insistently. “And the demons are getting smarter every day; they learn our tactics, learn to exploit our weaknesses, and we’ve even known demons to speak our language. That doesn’t happen unless they’re capable of learning. And who knows, maybe those machines were created by demons in response to their contact with the islanders. Maybe this will start happening in other dungeons if they’re left to flourish on their own - We started evolving our tactics to deal with them, why are we surprised they did the same?”

Everyone froze at her comment and stared at her.

“Sulika, do you have any idea what you’re implying?” Max asked, his voice was slightly higher than usual; a testament to how disturbed he was at the possibility.

“Only the truth as I see it.” She replied, shifting her eyes to meet his gaze. “You heard the way that demon - Garr - spoke of their lives on the island. How he was attempting to create demons from those poor dogs. Those weren’t the words of something incapable of learning.”

“...We’ve always thought the demons to be nothing more than mindless, evil monsters.” Faeyra interjected. “But what if they’re not. What if they have lives outside of war with us. What if they have art, a culture all their own and we just can’t understand it?”

“But… Wouldn’t they need a language for that?” Zarud asked, scratching at his head. “Isn’t communication the first step towards creating a culture?”

“They do have a language.” Sulika replied. “I’ve heard Aldritch speaking it.”

“... He what now? Are you saying Aldritch can speak to the demons?” Oladi said, holding up a hand in the universal sign for ‘stop’.

“Max and Faeyra can verify it if you don’t believe me.”

“No, that’s not the issue here.” Oladi replied, slightly shaking her head. “You’re saying there’s a person here, with us, that’s capable of understanding the demons. And no one has thought to ask him why the demons attack us without warning?”

“Isn’t it just because they’re evil?” Zarud asked.

“Maybe.” Oladi shrugged. “And the temples all certainly say so… But no one has ever actually conversed with a demon, have they? What if we’ve been wrong all this time?”

“We haven’t.” Max replied, shaking his head. “Those things are evil; plain and simple…” He sighed. “But you might be right about everything else. There may be more to them than we know.”

While the group continued their hushed conversation, Aldritch finally opened his eyes and let out a breath as he felt the last of his flesh mend. He couldn’t cast ‘Greater Heal’ while maintaining Sanctuary - one of the biggest issues with the all-encompassing barrier spell was its inability to differentiate between good spells and bad spells. A healing spell would crack it just as quickly as a fireball if cast whilst inside it. “Been a while since I’ve felt that much pain.” He chuckled.

“Did you miss it?” Oakairo asked, using their bond to poke and prod around Aldritch’s body for any wounds he may have missed.

“Did I miss pain?” Aldritch repeated, as if he was also asking himself that question. After a few seconds of consideration, Aldritch nodded with a humorless grin on his face. “I did miss it; more than I realized.”

"Figures, you’ve been pent up too long. Personally, I’d rather go shack up with a sultry dragoness for a few years. That seems much more enjoyable to me - But we both know that’s not likely to happen anytime soon.” Oakairo muttered somewhat sourly. His mood shifted a few seconds later and he let out a relieved sigh as he finished his scan. “I think you’re good to go - But don’t get shot again.“

“Wasn’t planning to.” Aldritch chuckled while climbing to his feet - Aldritch moving again attracted the attention of Sulika and the others, who moved to join him.

“Feeling better?” Sulika asked, trailing her eyes up and down Aldritch’s body to look for any sign of injury. To her surprise, she found none… Not even a scar.

She grumbled about stupid giants with their stupid genetics that allowed them to get a hole punched through them and not scar. It wasn’t fair. She had a scar on her left leg from when she was seventeen and made the mistake of shaving with a dull blade. Yet, Aldritch had a hunk of metal shot through his side - not a scratch to show for it.

Aldritch noticed Sulika’s eyes lingering on his side and cracked a smile. He knew exactly what she was thinking, it was written all over her face. “It’s not all pleasant or even useful.” He told her.

“What is?” She asked, blinking away her stupor and refocusing on his face. That was the first time she’d seen the skin beneath his robe - well, the first time without a traumatic injury distracting her.

He was surprisingly trim for someone who claimed to weigh 700 lbs.

“You were wondering why I didn’t scar, yes?” Aldritch asked and pointed to his side.

“Never crossed my mind.” Faeyra muttered with a distracted smile on her face. She was overtly staring at Aldritch’s skin.

“Lad,” Derrik said. He was also staring at Aldritch’s skin, but his expression was one of concern. “Where’s your hair?”

“His what?” Sulika asked, not understanding the question.

“His blasted hair!” He replied, pointing at Aldritch’s body. “I thought it was bad enough ya shaved your beard. But your chest hair too? Do ya have no love for your ancestors?” Derrik asked, the sheer revulsion in his eyes was enough to convince everyone that he wasn’t faking his reaction. He was genuinely upset by Aldritch’s lack of body hair.

Aldritch snapped his fingers and pointed at Derrik, while looking at Sulika. “He gets it.” He said in an amused voice. “Dwarves are naturally hairy creatures. Furthermore, we revere a good beard and body hair is considered sacred in our culture.”

“That’s… definitely something the Dwarves would revere. Never mind.” Ralocan muttered, disturbed by the explanation.

“I don’t want to hear anything from you, tree lover.” Derrik snapped.

Aldritch ignored them both and continued with his explanation. “The Giant blood makes me more resistant to injury, increases my ability to survive grievous injuries, and also offers some protection from the elements. But since giants are closer to elementals than mortals, I can’t grow any body hair - Oh,” He stopped himself and ran his fingers through his long red hair. “This and my eyebrows being the sole exceptions, though I've never understood why.”

“So… You’re bald everywhere else?” Oladi asked in an amused voice.

“Yes.”

“Everywhere?” Faeyra repeated while slowly moving her eyes up and down Aldritch’s body.

“That’s what I said.”

“You poor bastard.” Derrik muttered, tearing up at the sight of the pitiful man standing before him. “How will ya ever find a wife without body hair? What will she run her fingers through while you lay in bed together? How will you keep her warm on the cold winter nights? How-”

Aldritch just laughed.

“So, are all Dwarven men as obsessed with body hair as Derrik seems to be?” Sulika asked. She was amused, and somewhat disturbed, to learn about this side of Derrik.

“It’s not the men who’re obsessed, Boss. It’s the women.” Derrik wistfully replied. “Dwarven women love a hairy man… Why do ya think so many of them flock to Zarud?”

“I’ve seen you without your shirt on, Derrik. Don’t compare my hair to the bearskin rug you call a back.” Zarud said, smiling and giving Derrik the middle finger - Who returned it with a smile of his own.

Sulika suddenly blinked and realized where they were. “Sorry, let’s back up a minute.” She told them. She looked around at the barrier protecting them and asked; “How much time will this spell give us to come up with a plan?”

“Unless one of you does something you shouldn’t, it won’t fall until I dismiss it.” Aldritch explained.

“You mentioned something about drawbacks earlier. Mind explaining that?” Sulika asked him, hoping to understand the issues at hand before jumping to a decision.

“I did, yes.” Aldritch replied, nodding at her in approval. “But first, do you know what Sanctuary actually is?” Sanctuary is primarily used as an area denial spell. It’s good for sealing an area, and keeping demons, undead, and many other creatures out. However, the spell is a bit more nuanced than most give it credit for.”

“How so?” Ralocan asked excitedly. Sanctuary was also one of his spells, to learn there was another way to use it was immensely interesting for him.

“It’d be easier to show you…” Aldritch replied, trailing off as he thought of what to do. “Couldn’t hurt to try.” He muttered before looking towards the rooftops.

His mutterings earned him a few confused looks. But, like the good guildmates they were, Sulika and the others decided to wait and see what he was doing before immediately jumping to the ‘He’s crazy’ line of thinking.

It only took a few seconds of looking for him to find one of the trolls he’d almost killed earlier. The hulking demon was glaring down at them, face upturned into a hideous snarl, and white robe covered in the blood of his ally.

Aldritch smiled at the troll, an act that exposed his white teeth, and raised a hand in its direction.

Aldritch pointed a single finger at the Troll before turning it towards himself and lightly running it across his throat. “You’re dead.” Aldritch told the demon in a way he thought it would understand.

The Troll’s face warped in anger. It slammed its fists into the edge of the building, dislodging bricks and breaking mortar.

After a few seconds of unleashing its rage on the non-reactive roof, the Troll raised a hand to the sky and conjured a massive fireball above its head.

“There he goes.” Aldritch said, nodding his approval at the Troll - Which only served to piss it off even more.

“Should you really be pissing it off like that?” Sulika whispered to him.

“It’s fine.” Aldritch replied. “See, Sanctuary is great for protecting an area. But you have to be very careful when you’re first creating it. It works by isolating an area from predefined targets, and if any of those targets attempt to enter the barrier once it’s been cast, they are destroyed. You saw that earlier with the Ogre’s body. But what you didn’t see is the things it doesn’t stop. Things like-” The Troll finished powering its spell before Aldritch could finish his explanation. Without hesitation, the angry demon whipped its arm towards the ground. Countless melon sized balls of flame shot from the fireball hovering in the sky to splash uselessly against Sanctuaries unyielding shell.

However, despite the magic itself getting stopped, the sweltering air that was responsible for feeding the flames passed through unhindered. The super-heated air hit the ground around Sulika and the rest and made breathing more difficult for a few seconds.

The Troll maintained the assault for as long as it could before running out of mana. Once it did, the spell ended abruptly, and the fireball faded away like a mirage.

“What was that?” Sulika asked, confused by what she’d just experienced.

“Like I said, easier to show you than explain it.” Aldritch replied. “The spell negates magical spells hitting it from the outside, yes, but other things can pass through without issue - things like Oxygen. It’s why I can still breathe normally despite the spell sealing us away from the rest of the dungeon. However, that’s also why I said you had to be careful whenever you cast Sanctuary. It’s easier than you think to completely seal yourself away from everything and end up suffocating inside your own spell.”

Ralocan stared at the Troll high above them. After a few seconds of watching it scream at them, Ralocan couldn’t help but ask Aldritch a question. “I didn’t notice it before, because we’re getting our oxygen from the masks. But now that I know what to look for, I can see it clear as day; the miasma flowing through the barrier like it’s not even there. How did you do that? How did you get the spell to deny some things and allow others?... Did you alter Sanctuary’s function?”

Aldritch grinned. “No, I didn’t change the spell. I just changed the way I was using it.”

“How?” Ralocan asked with a confused look in his eyes.

“How?” Aldritch asked in a perplexed tone. “I experimented.”

“Yes, but how? Sanctuary is a spell that rids an area of evil by sealing away a part of the world. It’s not sealing an area if something can still enter and exit as it pleases, now, is it?” Ralocan asked, more insistently this time. He’d always been told that spells would fail if you didn’t do them exactly the same every time. This was especially true for priests and clerics, since their magic came from an outside source. If you didn’t use the proper spell, then why would the Gods lend you their aid?

Aldritch looked away for a second in confusion - “Ah,” He muttered. “I understand the issue now -” Aldritch had to stop speaking as something heavy landed just outside the Sanctuary.

Everyone turned their heads to regard the interrupter. They saw a thirteen-foot-tall Ogre climbing to its feet just outside the barrier.

Apparently, the demons were tired of waiting.

The Ogre reached the edge of the Sanctuary and came to a stop as a dozen more Ogres fell from the sky - four of which landed on top of the dome and were instantly obliterated. While the rest were too far over and landed on either the road or the sidewalk. Aldritch watched this happen for a few seconds before moving to place himself between the Ogres at the edge of Sanctuary and the group.

“Can they get through?” Max asked him.

“No. But if I’m going to get to that monstrous machine, I need to go through them.” Aldritch explained. He watched the first Ogre reach out with its right hand - An arc of static electricity leaped from the dome to the Ogre’s fingers, zapping it, and making it withdraw its hand in surprise. Aldritch smirked while going through the motions of summoning his shield again… He suddenly stopped just before pressing his bloodied finger into the symbol on his bracer.

He’d felt something moving inside his pocket.

Saying nothing, Aldritch reached into the pocket hidden inside his robe and pulled a sleepy puppy from its depths. “Synne?” Aldritch muttered while staring at the canine.

And he wasn’t the only one staring.

“You’ve had her inside your pocket this entire time!?” Sulika shouted. Her anger made her temporarily forget the Ogres watching them from the edge of the barrier. Faeyra and Oladi grabbed Sulika by the arms and pulled her back before she could punch Aldritch… Or stab him.

“How’d you get out?” Aldritch asked the pup, completely ignoring Sulika’s outburst. The puppy’s mouth opened wide to let out a soft yawn. Her eyes opened slowly at first, but the moment they landed on Aldritch they shot open, and her tail started wagging like mad.

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“Aldritch,” Faeyra said, getting his attention. “Where has she been?”

Aldritch shifted his hold on the puppy, allowing her to sit flat in the palm of his hand while he lifted his robes away from his body… Which allowed him to see a part of the pocket was missing, destroyed by the chunk of metal that nearly killed him. “No.” Aldritch muttered. He passed Synne to Sulika without a word and ripped the robe, and his broken armor, off his body with a single tug. A stone amulet was flung up by the force of Aldritch tearing off his robe. The only thing keeping it from flying away from his body was the thick leather strap Aldritch used to keep it around his neck.

Ignoring the stares directed at his amulet and chest, Aldritch turned the robe inside out to get a better look at the pocket: at four inches wide and eight inches deep, it was fairly large considered Aldritch kept it hidden inside his robe. But the most interesting thing was the faintly glowing magical symbols sewn into the fabric with golden thread.

Aldritch activated Eye of the Magic Eater and inspected the pocket with magic sight. A small, but constant stream of purple mana was leaking from the hole in the bottom of the pocket -

An Ogre wailed in pain after touching the barrier. The Ogre continued to scream as divine mana atomized its body, starting at its fingertips and ending with the soles of its club-like feet.

Aldritch paid no mind to any of it. Instead, he stared at the pocket like it was the most important thing in the world… And now it was dying.

Aldritch carefully stuck his hand into the pocket and grabbed the only other thing inside. A small box covered in dark leather, the silver latch on the front of the box was slightly warped from someone opening it and closing it over a number of years.

With the box retrieved, Aldritch allowed his gaze to fall back onto the pocket.

“You can make another.” Oakairo told him.

“I know.” Aldritch said, speaking out loud.

“He’d want you to throw away this old thing, anyway.”

“I know that too.” Aldritch muttered without taking his eyes off the pocket.

“Aldritch? Are you okay?” Sulika asked, her anger forgotten in the face of his despondent attitude. She’d never seen him this way.

“The man who raised me, left me this robe in his will. The pocket was something he learned to make from my mother.” Aldritch explained in a strange voice, one filled with pain… Regret.

“Would you hold these for me?” Aldritch asked, holding out the robe and box to Faeyra. “I need to take care of something.”

“Sure.” She replied - Her eyes widened in surprise at the weight of the robes. He could move in these?

Aldritch nodded his thanks and summoned his shield. His face was the picture of calm as he looked her in the eyes. His hands were steady as stone as he reached out to poke Synne’s nose.

And his eyes contained a rage that couldn’t be measured.

Sulika’s breath caught in her throat as he turned those baleful eyes on her.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” He told her.

“Wait -” Sulika tried to stop him, but it was too late. Aldritch had already pushed off the ground, cracking the asphalt road in a fifty-foot circle around him.

Aldritch reached the edge of the barrier in a second and passed through it without causing so much as a ripple - Which was exactly what the monstrous machine had been waiting for.

A sonic boom shattered glass from some nearby windows as the machine launched another thirty-pound missile at Aldritch.

The crimson-haired Giant reacted even before the machine fired, raising his shield high enough to allow him to run without interference - The moment he saw the muzzle flash, the Giant stomped on the ground and shoved himself aside.

Aldritch rolled immediately after landing and resumed running, his golden eyes never once leaving the machine.

An unlucky Ogre took a missile to the spine. The demon was ripped in half at the waist without even slowing down the missile, which eventually flattened itself against Sanctuary.

The machine's turret rotated a few feet to the left and scanned for Aldritch. It found him seconds later, standing beside one of the largest metal bodies on the road. This specific body was painted black and gray and was over forty feet long.

The machine repositioned its turret a few inches to the right, expecting Aldritch to run away from the metal body. It fired… And the Giant never moved. He merely tilted his head to the side as he watched the thing move - seemingly oblivious to the fact it’d just fired upon him.

The missile flew past his head, missing him by less than a foot. It tore through the front end of the long metal body like it was made of tissue paper, scattering shards of metal debris across the road.

The creatures inside the metal monstrosity were beginning to get nervous now. What was wrong with this mortal? Did he not fear death? He knew they were going to kill him, right?

The instant after the last missile was fired, the creatures inside the metal monstrosity went to work reloading their turret. They grabbed another thirty-pound shell from the special compartment beneath the floor and worked together to hoist it into the tube. Eight seconds after the last shot was fired, the turret was reloaded. Four seconds after reloading was complete, the turret was locked onto the Giant. And two seconds after that, the metal monster fired another missile.

Aldritch moved the moment he realized the monster was aiming at him. He kicked off the road, launching himself into the air and over the roof of the long metal body. He landed on the other side and started sprinting towards the closest alleyway - He felt a rush of wind fly past him as the missile tore through the center of the long metal body and embedded itself in a wall.

Aldritch disappeared from the monstrous machine’s sight by ducking into the alley… Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy to find safety.

The alley he’d chosen was narrow on both ends, but opened into a large square space that was just as wide as it was deep. The square was crawling with Demons whose eyes landed on him almost immediately.

Three Ogres, twelve Imps, a Troll, and five Demonwolves were just waiting for him to enter so they could attack him.

Aldritch’s face had remained blank until he registered the presence of the demons surrounding him. A scowl creased his brows and his lips twitched in annoyance as he slowed to a stop near the center of the alley.

It was a straight shot between two buildings, connecting the road he was just on with the one running parallel to it.

An Ogre took a few lumbering steps towards Aldritch. It raised its meaty fist into the air and let out an angry roar as it sent it flying at the Giant’s head - Aldritch raised his shield and twisted it slightly, throwing his body weight behind it to achieve maximum efficiency.

The Ogre’s fist split on contact with the shield’s edge. Dark blood sprayed over the Golden shield, covering both it and Aldritch with an almost black liquid - Aldritch twisted the shield again, using his body weight, along with the fact that it was stuck inside the Ogre’s arm, to manipulate the beast.

He broke the Ogre’s elbow in one swift movement and threw a haymaker aimed at the side of its face - The fist connected with enough force to shatter concrete and the Ogre’s head was blown aside.

Aldritch freed his shield as the Ogre dropped onto its back. Its neck was hanging at a weird angle and the side of its face had collapsed in on itself.

This let the other demons instantly realize it was probably dead before it hit the ground.

[You should step aside.] Aldritch said while stepping over the fallen Ogre. He could feel the ground shaking and the sound of metal grinding against metal. Something big was moving, and he had neither the time nor the inclination to deal with these pests right now.

[You speak our language?] The Troll asked, surprised - Aldritch took three quick steps forward while shifting his grip on the shield. He drove the rear spike through its throat in the blink of an eye, the sheer weight of the shield causing the Troll to be driven back into a wall.

Aldritch gave a quick twist of his body that dragged the spike through the concrete wall and pushed the troll off balance. While the Troll was still alive, thanks in no small part to its natural regenerative abilities. It struggled to keep its footing in the face of Aldritch’s overwhelming physical strength - The Troll coughed in surprise as the Giant swept its feet right out from under it with a well-placed kick. The spike may have been forced from the wall, but it remained in the Troll’s throat as the demon was driven onto its back and pinned beneath the weight of the shield.

All of this had happened so fast it took the other demons a while to respond. They’d never seen a Troll forced to move when it didn’t want to. And by the time they did start moving, Aldritch was already kneeling over the pinned Troll.

The nineteen demons in the alley leapt towards Aldritch with their fangs and claws ready to tear him to shreds - “Sacred Fireball.” Aldritch muttered, raising his fist into the air as divine mana gathered around it.

Aldritch drove his fist into the ground and released the built-up mana - A massive explosion followed as twelve pillars of golden flames erupted from the ground in a semicircle around Aldritch and the Troll.

Nineteen bodies worth of ash fell over Aldritch’s back, and the Troll’s face and legs… Aldritch’s face never changed. He wasn’t enjoying this, didn’t find this entertaining in the slightest.

Aldritch pulled the shield up, removing the spike from the Troll’s throat, before slamming it back just above its head.

The Troll smirked and opened its mouth to speak, but Aldritch silenced it before it could utter a word. He used his smoking right hand to grab its spine through the hole in its neck.

The Troll’s eyes widened as Aldritch gathered divine mana inside the hand wrapped around its spinal column.

Aldritch could still feel the ground trembling. He didn’t have much time before he’d need to move again.

[What is the metal thing?] Aldritch asked the Troll.

[Tank.] The Troll hurriedly spat. It could feel its very soul burning due to coming in contact with divine mana.

[Weaknesses?] Aldritch asked while staring into the Troll’s black eyes.

The Troll smiled in spite of the pain it was feeling. It was no idiot; it knew it was as good as dead already. The fact that the ground had stopped trembling was evidence enough of that.

[Figure it out in your next life.] The Troll said before spitting in Aldritch’s face - Its body ignited from the inside. Brilliant blue flames spewed from every hole in its body, even as its healing factor tried desperately to heal any damage it sustained.

Aldritch yanked his hand free from its throat and retrieved his shield before leaping off the burning corpse. A missile roared through the wall next to the burning body, passing just inches below Aldritch’s feet.

Aldritch twisted his body in the air and jammed his shield into the wall to halt his descent - He grimaced as the pull of gravity finally returned to pull him back down. His weight hit his arms, which were desperately hanging onto the shield.

The combined weight of Aldritch and his shield caused a few bricks to come loose, but his fall was stopped… Even if only temporarily.

The alleys weren’t safe if it could shoot through the walls, he needed to get higher. He glanced around his shield at the height of the buildings on either side of the alley. Both were well over three hundred feet tall, and he was far too heavy to wall jump that far…

“Oh well.” Aldritch grunted as he pulled himself onto his shield and crouched low to get as much thrust as he could - He used the fact that the shield could move within the hole he’d created in the wall to springboard off the shield and launch himself up and away from the alley.

He flew up… and up… and up… Until he was about ten feet from the roof of the building and gravity regained its grip on him.

Aldritch reacted to his gradually slowing speed by reaching out with a foot and pushing off the wall. The Giant broke the windowsill with his kick, but still managed to get just enough speed to get a single hand on the edge of the roof.

Aldritch pulled himself up just enough to get his other hand on the ledge. With that done, he could finally haul the rest of his body onto the roof - His head passed the edge and came face to face with a trio of Demonwolves.

“Of course.” Aldritch threw himself into the air, just missing the claws of one of the Demonwolves, and landed in a crouch behind it.

Aldritch turned at the same time as the Demonwolf. The two warriors locked eyes in an instant and attacked simultaneously; Aldritch stepped into the taller Demonwolf’s chest to eliminate the difference in range and blocked a wild swing aimed at the right side of his head.

Before the Demonwolf could retract its arm or attack again, Aldritch wrapped his right hand around its wrist and pulled it down to his level. “Summon Weapon.” Aldritch muttered and positioned his left hand behind the demon’s head.

Jammed into the wall far below, Aldritch’s shield glowed with a brilliant silver light - It suddenly lurched forward, breaking through the wall and landing inside the living room of a long-abandoned dwelling - It instantly righted itself, twisting to angle its head towards Aldritch’s hand.

The shield shot into the ceiling like an arrow and kept going. The shield built speed with every floor it broke through until it became nothing more than a silver blur rocketing through the building.

It broke through the floor between Aldritch and the Demonwolf’s feet less than a second after he cast the spell - Debris exploded from the newly formed hole as the top of the shield returned to Aldritch’s left hand, after bisecting the Demonwolf in its way.

Aldritch spun away from the Demonwolf to face its friends and the other demons on the roof, leaving its body to follow the pull of gravity unimpeded. The head and most of the left arm/shoulder of the Demonwolf tumbled through the hole in the floor, tracing the flight of the shield back to its origin, while the rest of its body sank to its knees…

Aldritch quickly acted to determine the fastest path through the demons.

From the rooftops, Aldritch could see for miles in every direction save one; A sheer cliff loomed over the city on his right. The Transport hub they’d arrived in had been constructed over four roads, while a few buildings lining each road were used to support this behemoth of a hub.

Since the rear of the hub pressed up against the side of the cliff. Aldritch also assumed that was where the tunnel was, buried somewhere deep beneath the red stone of the mountain.

He’d have to ignore that direction for the time being and focus on what was in front of him.

Every building had been built in a mostly straight line with the ones around it. Aldritch could only detect a few degrees of variation between them in the few moments he had to observe his surroundings.

As for the demons, he had the right of it before. There were hundreds of them up here. Each rooftop held no less than a dozen demons, while the roof of the transport hub held countless others.

Most appeared to be Imps, Succubi, and Incubi - the main ranged attackers of this demon army. But Aldritch also marked a few hooded trolls with their heads down and some kind of black spheres floating in the air above them. Based on the way they were spaced out over a number of buildings, Aldritch assumed these were the ‘trackers’ he’d been wondering about.

To bolster the ranks ever further, a number of Ogres and Demonwolves had been placed on each roof to defend the others from warriors like him… Well, not exactly like him.

Aldritch wasn’t in the mood to play fair anymore. “O’ mighty Oakairo; my king and guiding light, let my words reach you on dragon’s wings. With my body as the vessel, bring your wrath down upon mine enemies: Aspect of the Dragon - Breath.” Aldritch said and summoned forth an ocean of divine mana from the depths of his soul.

“Permission granted. My breath is yours.” Oakairo replied and moved to assist. As Oakairo wrestled with Aldritch’s mana, he realized Aldritch had poured a lot into this one spell. Oakairo grinned with pride and pushed himself into Aldritch’s mana. His gargantuan head appeared in the sky above Aldritch, his mouth already open and overflowing with divine mana.

What could only be described as the shriek of a million birds hit Sulika’s ears, forcing her to look towards the sky. Even through the haze of golden light created by Sanctuary, Sulika immediately spotted the massive Dragon head looming over them like the face of an angry God.

Oakairo threw his head forward and unleashed his breath upon the world: A beam of pure divine energy evaporated the demons closest to Aldritch before hitting the top of the next building and obliterating it, essentially deleting the roof and all of its demons from existence.

This continued to the second building, and the third, the fourth, the fifth, all the way to the end of the road.

Then Oakairo’s head turned.

Still releasing a steady stream of his breath. Oakairo first aimed at the tops of the buildings across the street to his left, wiping them out one by one until he was satisfied.

Then he turned his attention to the buildings on his right and did the same thing.

By the time Oakairo finished wiping out the forces on the last roof, Aldritch could feel his mana reserves reaching the limit of what they could do.

“Want me to get the ones on the hub too?” Oakairo asked while slowly turning his head to face the massive building.

Aldritch shook his head and ended the spell. “We can’t risk destroying the path to the portal. Not until we get the others back through.”

Oakairo nodded and retreated into Aldritch’s body - The instant Oakairo disappeared, Aldritch’s right leg gave out and he fell to his knee.

“Sorry. I may have gotten carried away with that one.” Oakairo chuckled in embarrassment.

Aldritch nodded in agreement before pushing back to his feet. He lifted his shield and slowly made his way over to the edge of the roof overlooking the road Sulika was on. He peered over it to inspect the road below… It took him a second to find it, but he saw the ‘Tank’ parked in the center of the road, in front of the alley he’d gone down earlier. The creatures inside the Tank, a quartet of Imps, couldn’t take not being able to see what was going on outside. One Imp threw open the latch on top of the turret and was staring slack-jawed at the destruction.

Seeing the opening in its armor, Aldritch couldn’t help but smile.

So, it did have a weakness… How many more would he find if he took it apart?

The Imp inside the latch spotted Aldritch looking down on them and began to panic. He ducked back inside the tank and slammed the latch shut with a heavy *clang!*.

Before, Aldritch had been wondering if the tank was truly impenetrable via normal means. Would he need to use Dragon’s breath to deal with it? He didn’t want to, there was so much he could learn from dissecting it.

How many lives would be saved in the future if he discovered its weaknesses?

But now… Aldritch knew he could get inside without destroying it entirely. It was dangerous, sure… but there was a weakness in its armor, something he could exploit.

There was blood in the water and Aldritch felt compelled to sink his teeth into it.

Aldritch stepped off the roof at the same time as the Imps inside the tank got it moving again. Its treads spun surprisingly quickly for such a heavy machine, allowing it to dart out of the way before Aldritch could land on top of it.

The turret spun to face Aldritch and fired at almost the exact moment the shooter made visual contact.

Aldritch raised his shield between one step and the next, and placed his body squarely behind it - The instant he registered the turret flash, Aldritch dove to the ground, getting beneath the missile and sliding across the asphalt on his shield.

The imps inside the tank reloaded the turret as fast as they could. And by the time the next round was ready to be fired, Aldritch was already practically on top of them.

Not willing to go down without a fight; The Imp responsible for aiming the turret forced the barrel to aim as low as it could - *BOOM!* the missile slammed into the road a few feet behind Aldritch.

The shockwave caused by the impact of the missile forced Aldritch to stumble into the front of the tank, almost losing his shield in the process.

Aldritch recovered from the shock after a second and went on the attack. He shifted his grip on the shield and punched it into the front of the Tank - The spike stopped on impact, without going so much as a centimeter into the tanks’ thick armor plating.

Aldritch dashed to the right, circling around the tank while the Imps inside tried to keep sight of him; Aldritch repeated slammed his shield into the side of the tank. Each hit searching for a weakness, or something else to exploit.

His shield bounced off most of the tank’s armor, failing to do more than scratch the crimson paint job - Aldritch froze as he accidentally managed to drive the spike into an external vent on the left side of the tank.

Aldritch quickly slapped his right hand over the vent, “Sacred -” He was cut off by the turret spinning towards him. Aldritch pulled his hand away from the vent and lifted his shield - *Clang!* The turret stopped dead against the center of his shield.

The tank whined as it kept trying to turn. Dark smoke began to billow from the paper-thin gap separating the turret from the body of the tank.

[To hell with shooting him. Run him over!] The Imp in charge cried.

[Okay!] The pilot imp yelled, shoving against the accelerator and making the tank lurch into motion.

Aldritch’s eyes widened as the body of the tank turned towards him and forced him to move back a few feet - the tank pushed forward bumping against the shield and forcing him back a few more feet.

Aldritch planted his feet into the ground and shoved his body weight against the shield. The treads cried against the asphalt road as they spun but failed to go anywhere.

Sadly, Aldritch wasn’t able to resist the sheer mass of the Tank for more than a few seconds before he had to move or risk losing his footing and getting pulled under.

Aldritch kicked off the ground and rolled on top of the tank. He came up in front of the turret and quickly ducked out of the way as it swung towards him… From this angle, Aldritch got a very good look at the base of the turret. Specifically, at the hair-thin gap separating the turret from the body of the tank.

Aldritch smiled at the dark smoke drifting up from beneath.

He shifted the grip on the shield and drove the spike directly into the gap - The turret twisted, one side lifting into the air while the other smacked into the base of the tank.

The tank made a horrendous sound as the Imps tried to turn the turret, only for it to be blocked by the shield.

The tank ground to a halt as the Imps’ panic turned to paralysis.

With the tank no longer moving, Aldritch didn’t have any trouble maintaining his balance while he raised his foot - *Bang!* his boot slammed into the shield, driving it deeper into the tank.

*Bang!*, *Bang!*, *Bang!*, *BANG!* The shield completely embedded itself between the turret and the body of the tank. The turret was now twisted into such a severe angle, Aldritch knew it wouldn’t take much more to break it loose.

Aldritch walked over to the barrel of the turret and ducked his head under it, allowing it to rest on top of his right shoulder.

Aldritch sucked in a breath and slowly straightened his legs. The tank wailed as the bits and pieces holding it together started snapping. Then, with a shout of exultation, Aldritch shoved against the base with all his might and pushed up on the turret - *Pang!* The two pieces of the tank broke apart in a pitiful cry for mercy.

The Imps watched, their bodies petrified with fear, as Aldritch twisted his body and tossed the turret away from the body. With that done, Aldritch finally turned his baleful golden eyes on the demons responsible for destroying his robe.

[You humans like mercy, yes?] The Imp in charge asked in a whiny, nervous voice.

[They do.] Aldritch replied, staring the Imp in the eye - His golden, reptilian eyes shone with power, and he looked down on them from high above.

[But I don’t.]