Chapter 128 All Orcs Must die!_Myrsha

Chapter 128 All Orcs Must die!

There’s no life without mistakes.

You shouldn’t spend your life regretting your mistakes.

Your mistakes are parts of who you are.

Build upon them and better your life.

Lokamesh, Father of Mortal Kind.

{28} Brigit (August) the 10th

I stare dumbfounded at the bloody pond marred with guts, broken bones, and everything that remains of the orc. Yes, I wanted to kill her, but I expected the blood particles out of my throat, not whatever the snake that thing was. I also don't see the odd creature anywhere, as if it's gone with the Agilla's life. The pressure in my throat is gone, as if it was never there to begin with.

“Was that a good idea?” Kolag’s echoing voice comes from behind me, undisturbed by the outworldly nature of my bloodline magic.

I look around. To my relief, all of the orcs have passed out by now, or are too busy with their so called ‘sheep’. In my rage I forgot to check for witnesses before committing the act. The large bonfire in the middle have different kinds of animals and human bones piled up on it. The charred human skull of a child stands out to me in a way I cannot ignore.

This is all my fault…

No point in guilttripping myself, what can I do to make it better right now? I’ll have to save whoever I can save. “I’m going to gather the slaves and lead them out of here… Wait for my signal and take your helmet off. The orcs will want to kill you, they won’t be able to resist such a strong foe. Kolag? I want all of these orcs dead!” They betrayed Balgrum. They betrayed me when they attacked my city, and they’re impossible to control. It’s best if they’re all gone!

“It’ll be done, even if I have to die for it!”

I shake my head. “No, I don’t want you to die for it. Come back alive, ok? I’ll be waiting for you near the city’s south gate.”

“I… I’ll do my best…” his echoing voice doesn’t sound so sure of himself.

I step forward. “Let’s go.”

I’ll come back and help him fight the orcs once I free my people… I walk down between the tents and make my way to the slaves’ pens at the edge of the camp. I do my best not to think about the people who accommodate the orcs for the night. I can hear their cries and screams coming from the leathery huts, I just signed their death sentence. I can’t save everyone, focus on saving whoever I can save…

Two orc guards stand near a wooden fence door. Behind it, a mass of people cramped in a small fenced section. Although most of them are asleep, the buzz from their quiet conversations is loud enough.

“Shaman.” One of the orcs greets me with a nod.

I place my hand on his chest, looking up at his face. His ember eyes opens wider before I incant my cantrip. “Myrsha ritsa.” His chest caves in, he stumbles back and collapses with a sickening noise of bones crunching flesh.

The second orc reaches for his axe, “Felul felik.” I cast coldly, my wind blade tearing his neck open. He makes a step or two toward me, clutching his throat in a desperate attempt to stop the blood from pouring out. He then falls to his knees with a choked gurgle and collapses backward like a doll without strings. The orc ends up with his legs bent underneath him in the bloodied grass, empty stare toward the night sky.

I untie the ropes that hold the fence doors closed. “Revissor.” A ball of light appears above my hand.

The light of my magic reveals hundreds of people piled on large a straw mat, stacked on one another due to lack of space. I notice that the children are given place on top. Some of the slaves are tied up to wooden poles with roughly made ropes, some of their raw wounds are too fresh to have been inflicted yesterday. They’re all dirty, covered with grime and blood, their clothes are torn, and many of them have inflamed scars on their faces.

At the end, I’ve made the same mistakes as Luard… Kolag was right, I never cared about them as human beings… Only as score for the hag’s twisted game… I distanced myself because their religion disturbs me, it made it easier to see them as just numbers instead of people... I need ten thousand souls under my command… Ten thousand… How am I going to get that now? Doesn’t matter! My humanity comes first! Not putting hundreds of people in the same position I was a few years ago comes first! It’s one thing not to help people who are enslaved by others, another to enslave them myself. I will never cross this line!

I pick one of the orcs’ axes and cut through the ropes of the first group of slaves. “Take the axes and free everyone, we’re leaving!”

The people free each other slowly, and flow out of the pen without any order. A familiar beefy middle-aged woman with dirty blond hair passes by and spits on my face. I catch her head with a ‘Minor Telekinesis,’ and force her to look at me. “You hate me, don’t you?”

“Ya!” the woman look at me with a pair of blue stubborn eyes.

“Did you also hate King Luard?”

“Ya ye and all yar sorcerers are the same!”

“But you wouldn’t spit in his face, correct?”

She grimaces. Good! Feel bad! I just saved your stupid life you dumb bitch! I just lost a whole army of orcs for your miserable hides! And all I get in return is hatred and blind worship of a stupid religion! I’m tired of it, if I can’t be loved by my people I’ll be feared by them!

“Why wouldn’t you spit in his face?” I tap my lower lip wondering aloud. “Oh I know why! He’d shove a spear up your ass and stake you outside the city with a sign that says ‘I spit on the King,’ wouldn’t he? Do you want me to do the same?”

“No, Your Grace…”

Oh I’m your grace now?! How nice of you to address me as your worshiped idol… I’m not an idol! I’m a person! I don’t want to be worshiped. I’ve freed you from a tyrant, I made sure you all have jobs, gave the lawmaker position to someone sensible like Kolag, and all I get in return is fanatics and idiots. Even now, I’m saving your very lives. I’ve just lost an army of orcs willing to serve my purposes, in order to save your sorry hides! I’m here freeing you by myself on foot, not sending anyone else in my stead to potentially die to these orcs! And all I get in return, is someone spitting in my face. I thought you people worshiped sorcerers… But you also hate them deep inside, don’t you? Why am I not surprised... mages aren't exactly stellar examples of altruism... And I guess the fact I was willing to enslave them turned them on me entirely...

“C-can I go your grace?”

I let her head go with a wince. I wave my hand dismissingly and let her joined the rest, feeling terrible with myself. Did I really have to do this?

I’m tired of being unappreciated by them… I’m tired of being worshiped by them! They don’t see me as a human, they see me as a force of nature to worship or hate. It’s frustrating… I’m a human being and I’m allowed to snap sometimes… I haven’t killed them for it… I am allowed to be angry! I'm not perfect! But they do too… I nearly handed them over to the orcs… And I don't see them as humans either... I see them as a number for the hag's stupid trials... Fuck the hag, fuck her trials!

The woman is still standing there. “I was there the day ye freed us from Luard’s dungeon, Your Grace. Ye had me undying loyalty.”

I narrow my eyes at her.

“My husband and son died for ye in the war against Queen Phoebe.” She takes a deep breath. “And after all of that, ye wanted to sell us to these savages because the death cleric said so?! If not for the Lord Sir Kolag taking a stand, we be raped by these savages, same way King Luard’s monsters did it. No, worse. Listen!” She gestures at the camp and the screams of the women in the orcs’ camp. There are even men who scream.

I'm no better than Luard...

The woman continues. “Ye did much for us, My Queen. We did much for ye in return. Selling us away on the word of a Death Cleric…”

“What’s your name?”

“I- Aisha your grace. Ye can give me a fancy execution if ye want, but please make sure my daughters are taken care of.”

“You’re right. And Kolag was right. I made a mistake. It’s why I’m here now, freeing you and doing my best to right my mistake. Now let’s get out of here before the rest of the orcs wake up and notice something is amiss.”

She gapes for a moment, then nods and moves with the rest.

"I also want you as my advisor," I call after her. "To tell me what the people needs that I'm not aware of. The ones that were elected are clearly ineffective."

She turns and bows awkwardly, then joins the stream of people that circles around the camp.

An hour later, I circle the camp, sticking close to the inner side of the wall. The people follow me in the long way to the gate, doing their best to stay quiet. But with such a large group of people I know it’s impossible to be completely silent, it’s only a matter of time before someone notices us.

We reach the gate. Both orcish guards at the gate are asleep, and they do not notice our approach. I slice their napes with silent wind blades and gesture to the escaped slaves to run toward the city.

“Ti-a’ark! Yoma’ari ga’akash!” I hear the shouts from within the camp. Dozens of orcs make their way toward the camp’s gate, raising axes and spears with bloodshot eyes.

“Run!” I shout to the crowd of people who push each other through the gates. “Kolag! Now!” I scream from the top of my lungs as I command my light-ball forward. Both to shed light on the orcs, and blind them as they approach.

They cover their eyes and emerge from between the sea of tents. I count about thirty of them. Three meters tall orcs who are no longer on my side. No. Now they're here to enslave my people, and I'm the only thing that stands between them and their sheep. They're also battle ready, not a surprise kill like the five orcs I've already murdered today.

These orcs hunt magical beasts for a living, and I'll have to fight for my life if I want to survive...

The orcs approach like an angry mob, waving spears and axes up high in the air. "Ti-a'ark!" "Yomh’ak no ria’arikal potasi!" Half of them charge, while the other half stand back, throwing javelins at me.

I take out rose petals and chant swiftly as they approach. "Nikit fukdi-ai, ritsa!" My voice echoes unnaturally, purple smoke puffs around my waist and an indigo speck of light circles my wrist. Other than my echoing chant, there's no other noise, but the charging group of orcs is sent flying along with most of the thrown spears as if an invisible boulder hit them all violently. They land sprawled and spread. I hear a few bones breaking with loud snaps from the very back.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The second group of javelin throwers spread, avoiding clustering like the first group that charged. Four charge me directly. Eight circle around their mass of tents, four from each side, and four stay behind to throw more javelins. Sixteen total, and I don't have a lot of time before the rest of them recover.

“Nimuwal!” I aim my water jet at the ground in front of me, creating shallow water ponds in the way of the middle group who have the shortest distance. “Rial aluwe ri!” I freeze the pond. The sudden change to ice trips the front pair of the charging orcs who fall forward on their faces. The second pair—who can't hold their charge—slip on the ice, waving their hands wildly in the air as they skate forward before tripping on the bodies of their comrades.

They fall in a heap of live bodies, hitting the ice with loud cracks and thuds. “Rinim rill!” An empowered set of patterns, and a pair of bloodied icy spears protrude from the orcs’ torso, each impaling two of them on the icy ground.

The javelin group throw their spears at me, soon joined by the first group who recovered already. “Myrsha samir!” The mana drains through my forehead forming an orange kinetic bubble. I hear the screams behind me. Some of these spears aren’t aimed at me, they’re aimed at the people. I stretch my spell and form a wider shield, channeling extended patterns to prolong it. However, the mass of people behind me is larger than what my magic can protect.

The barrage of javelins incites panic, people rush to get out through the gate that isn’t wide enough.

And it also incites my rage. So much for honor with these orcs. They speak of honor and then attack unarmed people! “Ritsa!” I send five more spears flying off their original trajectory. “Rinim ril!” Pieces of the frozen pond turn into icy spikes. “Shariss!” I stomp the ice on my side, mana coursing through my right leg, and the spikes launch themselves into the orcs. While some of these spikes break on their furs and skin or simply fall down after bruising the orcs, a single orc digs one of the icicles out of his abdomen. He looks at the bloody ice shard, baffled, then collapses.

Running out of water mana I switch my element. “Fotyr folo!” A series of three flashing firebolts streak toward the orcs. Their fur clothes are set alight, they fall to the ground, rolling around in order to put the fire out. “Rod’ena.” The mana drain through my lower abdomen and legs into the ground. Thin vines grow around the three orcs, keeping them restrained against the ground, preventing their movement. They scream and thrash around as the fire spreads mostly uninterrupted.

The flanking orcs emerge from both sides at once. I wish I was more adept at earth magic, this would’ve been much easier if I could raise stone walls from the ground. “Kushjak!” I create an oily puddle on the left side. “Felul.” I cast an amplified breeze to my right at the same time. The strong wind blows in the face of the orcs, and the spears they attempt to throw divert from their path.

The four orcs on my left charge through my—still forming—oily puddle, waving their axes above their heads. One of them throws a spear in my direction.

My eyes open wide, I know I can’t dodge this. The spear halts a millimeter near my abdomen, it hovers and drops to the ground thanks to my magical leather armor. The armor the orcs made for me… The irony…

“Folo fotyr!” I scream and a cone of roaring flames exhales from my mouth, setting the puddle of oil ablaze. The orcs to my left are all set alight, screaming and flailing around blindly as they burn alive. The wave of heat makes it hard to breathe, and the all too familiar foul stench of burning flesh enters my nostrils, taking me back to the time I still feared Adir back in the Sapphire Tower.

I back off from the collapsing orcs on my left, trying to ignore the smell and heat. I turn to the four orcs who approach me from the right. They are now too close for anything but an instant defense. “Myrsha samir!” I shout before a pair of hand held spears reach me. I weave the red bubble, not the orange, and the spears slow down instead of being deflected.

I hold the shafts near the tips and spread the spears with my hands. I take a quick step forward between the slowed spears, and place my hands on the orcs’ chests. “Myrsha ritsa!” Holes form in their chests, showering me with gore.

Another screaming orc charges at me with her axe waved high up in the air. “Hod myrsha.” she falls head first into the bloodied grass.

Before I manage to finish her off, the last orc throws his spear at me from less than two meters away. I gasp. The spear pushes softly against my ribs, bending the scaled armor inward just a little. It then falls to the ground.

My armor saves my life again. As long as they don’t hit my head… ENOUGH CANTRIPS! Furious at the orc who pulls another spear from the leathery straps on his back, I put my hand in my pouch. I grab a handful of my petals and point at him with my free hand. I weave my patterns, mana pulsing through my necklace and forehead. “Myrsha! Lu myrsha zoro!”

My voice echoes unnaturally and the wind picks up. A puff of purplish smoke appears at my waist, a speck of purple light darts out of the amethyst mist and circles the orc. An attempted step makes him stumble, a second later and he floats in the air, weightless, his spear missing me by a wide margin. “Ti-a’ark!” He yells, reaching for another spear while flailing in the air.

“Felul.” I utter, and the wind carries him upward as if he’s a mere leaf.

“Ik ria’arikal potasi!” The orc on the ground yells as she pounces at me. I try to dodge, but her swiping arm drags me with her to the ground. She brings her axe to my neck and I attach my left hand to her wrist.

It’s not about a struggle of strength, she would win if it was. “Myrsha ritsa!” I yell, panicking. The blast turns her hand into minced meat and bones, her bone-made axe leave a shallow cut on my chin as it gets blown away by my spell.

She grabs my left wrist with her healthy hand, and pins my right hand under her body between us. She slams her head into mine, and the world turns into sheer white pain.

“Myrsha Ritsa!” I channel my mana through my right hand, blasting her abdomen. The orc groans in pain, I can feel her warm inner organs spilling on my hand and body. She slams her head into me again, and I'm tasting blood and broken teeth, face throbbing with pain.

I move my right hand up inside her body until I touch something solid and squishy, I clutch it. “Myrsha ritsa!”

She collapses on top of me, lifeless.

“̴̲̩͓̱͚̻̘̻͖͊͑̄̎̿̾͆G̵̛̝̗͇̦̫̫̒̀̕ǎ̴̦͓̲̦̙̗̈́̓͊̆̚ͅY̷̨̺̜͇̳̞̣̒͋̐̌͜͝ȃ̸̟͍̞̟͑̏̾̿̌̿͂̑̇̂͐͝Ḧ̴̜̮̮̜́̾͊̈́̋̔̄͆̈́̊̌̕ẏ̴̼͕̲͚̫̥̯̙̋̈͑͌̂͝Â̷̟̮̫̹͖̖̮̪͇͔͖̫h̸̳̯̝̰̼̍͂̆̑͊̆̈́͜Y̸̥̟͍̖̎͜ä̵̢̜̟̠̰͕͚̘̠̠́̇̆̍͒̑̉̔͝͠H̷̠̹̦̿̅͑̂͛̈̐͌͒̉y̸̙̹̓̾̐̑̋̓̿̀̓̑̚͝͝͝Ă̷̖̔͗͆͂̄̈͊͊̔̈́̈̏́͘ḧ̸̡̝̖̦̟̬̮̘̱̫̤̼̿̽̕̚̕!̷̟̰́͑͛̀͑̾͘͝͝͝ͅ ̴͙͍͉̖̹̪̘̠͎̤͊͐̄͗K̸̡̪͖̰̰̹̝̬͇͇̤̻̙̬̈́̓̈́̀̾̀̓̇͗̒̚̚͝A̴̢̘͆͐̈̂̍̈́̄̕͝R̴̨̗͓̦̻̣͚̜͈͓͖̃̒̄̍͛̄̈́͋͂͆̕͝Ì̸̢̢̛̮̮͉̰̺̯̫̭̹̗̖̣́Ḟ̵̨̰̜͍̩̙͛̽̐̒̈́̃͑̏͗̀́͠F̴̨̛̙̱̜̜̯͙̘̟̪͈̌̃̀̓͌̏̃͑̊̆͘͠!̵̡̡̨͔̭̦̹͙̹̫͇͙̥̻̇͛͜!̶̟̭̪̙̤͙͌̋̈́̈͑͘͝!̶̨̯̓͛̅͌͛”̶̢̹͔͉͍̗̹̼̠̰̟̥̈́̄͑̄̚

A wild screaming voice comes from deep within the camp. It seems like Kolag was forced to take off his helmet.

I crawl from underneath the dead orc, and stumble as I get up to my feet. I am dizzy, cold, and slightly feverish, I struggle to stay awake. I still haven’t recovered from the blood loss earlier today, and I’ve had way too much fighting for one sleepless night. I am exhausted, and now Kolag turned into a demon. What else can go wrong?

The people behind me keep screaming and pushing each other in order to exit the orc camp. I see a young girl—no older than ten—gets pushed down in the crowd, and people’s boots stomp her over in their mad panic to leave this place.

"Stop! You're killing her!" I yell in protest. "Calm down!" My high pitched voice disappears in the chaos, no one notices me, they're all in a rush to get out of this place.

"Tas fiuak!"

"Calm down! All of you! You're killing a young girl! I’ve had one hell of a rotten night. If you won’t calm down, right now, I’ll kill all of you! March slowly, don’t push, and don’t kill yourselves with your snaking panic! Once you’re out of the gate, run!”

Silence. People stop stumbling over one another in a panic and helps each other to their feet. Some are still pushing, but none of it is as aggressive as it was a few moments ago. I note a man helping the young girl up to her feet, and the kid limps forward. At least she didn't have to die over something so stupid...

“Shevi! Shevi! Where are you!” One woman uses the silence to look for her offspring, or perhaps a lover? Similar calls follow, drowning her voice. At least people help each other up, and they regain some semblance of order.

I watch them all and enforce an orderly exit for the next couple of minutes, but there are hundreds of them, and the gates can only take eight to ten people at a time.

Terrifying sounds of flesh getting ripped apart come from the middle of the camp, followed by orcish battle cries and screams of pain. The most horrifying part is the orcs’ body parts that get thrown away in the darkness, some of them fall amongst the panicked citizens, causing the eruptions of screams and horror.

Then an absolute silence that lasts for a few long seconds.

“̴̢̧̛̰̱͍̱͉̭͔̼̭̦͈̓͊͐̾̒̓̕͝͝A̶̧̧̫͙̘͂̽͛̃̒̀̑͑̃̎̓̕͠͠͠ǎ̴̛̪̬̻͂̌͌̅̀͊͂̆́͘͘͠͝Ă̴̢̗̥͕̝͂͊̽̀̎͆͂͆̓ạ̵͖̱̠̯̗̪̈́͆͒̉͠ͅL̸̟̰̍̈̓͐̌͒͋̾̈́̉̌͆̈́̆͑í̴͚̇̈́̆̽̀̄͂̇͘Ȃ̷̻̲̄͑̆̈͗̒́͌͘͘k̵̨̪̙͙̣̼̈́̂̾̈̏̚͝ ̸̟͊̕Ậ̷͎̗͕̭̬̬̟̦͉̹̹̾l̴̛̅̇̆͝͠ͅĄ̷̱̥̯̥̙͍͈͉̲̖͎́́̀̈́̀̈́̏̕ȧ̷̠̜̣̱͉Ā̷̢͖̮͍͙͉̜̱̩̜̗̬͇̈́͗̆̃̿ͅs̸̫͈̫̬̾̑̐̓̅̇̈̍̐͊̈̅Î̵͓̬͈͔̜̰͚͕̒͗̏͋̍͘ͅf̷̖͉̲̻͉̙̤̯̲̼͍̰̩̯̾̀̉̐͠͝i̴̟̬̋̒̈́͌͊͑̄͒̅̓ ̶̢̥͕̜͔͖͈̦̻̼͔͙̘̖̈́̾̉̓̃̀̿͒́̌̓͌̚͠͠n̵̼̭͙̞̭̏̐͌͊̎̒̉̒͆͗̑́̊̕͠Ơ̶̢̝̘̦̭̯͉̤̱̰̈́̊̋̏̾̊̾̉͛̅͠͝͝ͅờ̷̎͛́͛̀͛͊̓̊̈́͘͠ͅŐ̶̮͚̬̞̘̣̝̫̟̯͉̗̓̓̽̓̽́̂̅̀̈́̑̿ȯ̷̧̢̤̰͍̝̭̥ͅͅś̵̬̻͉̃̉͆́̚T̶̘̹̯͙̹͖͉͔̖̺͋̇̉́̊̓̇̑̏͆̕͝ ̵̡̛͉̲̬̭̹̻̤́̈̔͊̎͘k̸̛̻Ȃ̵̳͙͙̖̼̝̳̳̙̩̠̜͈̌̊̋̌͌̈̿͛̈́̕͘̕͘͝ŝ̵̨̱̤͔͙̥̻̹̜̯͓̎̈́̂̈́̈́̾̒͋̇Ḣ̴̺̜̩̹̳̟͉͕͉̫̲̀̎́́̽̌͐̚͠͝ͅa̸̧̭̳̲͙̝̲̘̮͖̮̎̎̃̅̑͂͒͘͘͝͝Ļ̷̺̗̣̙̬̞̤̰͚̬̝̋͌̿͊͋͆̾͊͘̕a̵̛̭̔̽̾́͊͋̓͑̊̃̾͘̕͝S̷̹̼͉͛̽̾͜͝f̴̡̛̦̲̣̲̯͒̎͋̓́́͊̕͝Ḯ̴̡̨̳̘̘̤̻͍̤̙̞̦̟̱̝!̷̺̩̳̐̈́”̵̛̛͔̣͍̖̞̻͖̲͚̺̋̔̿̓̇͘̕ͅͅ

A nightmarish armor marred in blood shows up between the leathery huts. Eyed tentacles covered in gore swinging wildly out of its collar as it rushes toward us.

“̴̳̮̱̜̰̐͂͆́̈́̍̏̈́͗͂͝͠K̷̨̤̻͌̍̂͜Á̶̧̡̼̱̹̦̩̖̯̝̯̰̼͊̈̂̈́͝͠͝R̷̛̛͚͔̟̺̗̓̾̆̎̌̉̔̄̌ͅI̷̧̧̛̺̲̝̳̘̲̻̹͊̆̐̀̅̀͑̃͛́̃͝F̴̡̫̱͓͍̠̙̭͈̱̼̪̞̅͋̋̀͗͂̈́̏̃͠F̷̡̨̞̲̹͚̺͉̞̦̟̺̂͘͜!̴̡̧̙̮̺͙̳̲̺̘̈́͌̓̑̅͂̀͘͜͝!̶͙̤͎͎̣͔̹̏͐̃͋̀͌́͗̀͆̓͆̋̕͝ͅ!̵̺͍̗̣̰͌͊̔̎̌̌̊̓͆͌̄̍̈́͝͝!̴̨̹̣̻̘͉͙̘̮͖̮̥̙̩̔̈́̊͊̽͌!̸̼̥̑̑́̔̉̓̌͑”̸̨̗̤͕̤͖̈̈́͑͋͋́̇͝͝ ̵̢͖͖͕͌͗̽̏

it shouts in a voice that sounds like the creature is afraid of us and not the other way around.

I find myself kneeling on all fours. I can’t move, my body doesn’t listen to me. I can barely move my head, enough to realize that all the released slaves are on their knees, just like me.

“̵̣͙̂̾̐́̃̑̽͑̊͝N̴̛͚͈̓̉͐̅̈́̌̓̑̽͐͝͠ǒ̸̡̢͎̼͈͇̳͐̃͐͐̇̒͂̄̈͆̚ͅỏ̷̲̭͗̃̔̄́̀̊̚͝ó̷̢̺̗͓͒͋̐̉̐̎͐̔̾̇͘͠ǫ̷̭̱̳͉̼̣͚̠̱̘͆̓͛͋̑̕ͅs̶̗̼͖̣̹͇̺̣͚̺̀̌́͊̍̈́́̓͐͂̽̓̊͘͝ẗ̴͎̯̣͙͖̫̞̦͕́̽̇̃̆̏͋̿́̋̋͘…̶̰͖́̒̓̿̉̀̊͊̄̓͘͘͠”̴̹̜͝

The creature hums as it approaches me. It wraps a slimy tentacle around my head, blocking my view.

I’m not dying here! Not over something this stupid! Out of sheer willpower I manage to move my hand. I hold onto the tentacle and channel my mana. “Myrsha ritsa!”

I am used to the blast that usually follows, but nothing happens. My mana gets absorbed like when I cast the spell, it gets drained out of my hand into the tentacle. Again! “Myrsha ritsa!” the mana is absorbed into the demon. The creature lets out a weird hum. “Noooooost…”

A demon is a mage’s worse enemy and our natural predator, they feed on souls and mana itself! The memory of the hag’s words incite panic. My kinetic blast cantrip is nothing more than a cookie to this thing!

*~*~*

Power level: 3rd stage apprentice.

Mana pools status:

Crown-knot: Affinity 10: connected: 1 gem replenished per minute.

Neck-Bridge: Affinity 6: formed: max amount of gems drained per day: 85

Abdomen-storage: Affinity 5: formed: 21 neutral gems. Conversion ratio: elemental : neutral 6:1, neutral : elemental 1:1

Air: Affinity 4: formed: 30 gems

Fire: Affinity 2: formed: 15 gems

Light: Affinity 3: formed: 22/23 gems

Water: Affinity 6: connected: 69 gems

Earth: Affinity 1: formed: 7 gems

Wood: Affinity 2: formed: 15 gems

Gravity: Affinity 9: connected: 93/104 gems

Cantrip known:

Air: Shavi’s Breeze, Shavi’s Sword. Shavi’s Hair Dryer, Aria’s Enhanced Hearing. Aria’s Sonic Scream. Aria's Increased Voice.

Fire: Nuriss’ Flame. Effrat’s Firefly, Effrat’s Fire Breath. Sorladika's Lesser Heating. Nuriss’ Ignite. Oniga's Soap Creation.

Light: Noxi’s Light. Lako’s Blinding Light. Rika’s energy hand.

Water: Water Evocation, Water to Ice, Ice to Water, Water to Vapor, Vapor to Water, Mayan’s Icy Spike, Ayla’s Water Jet. Ayla’s instant freeze. Ayla's Flowing Shield. Ayla’s Freezing Vapors. Hot Water Conjuration. Boiling Waterjet.

Earth: Alice’s Oil Summoning, Reiko’s Acid Spray. Alf's Copper Bolt

Wood: Arigor’s Lesser Vines. Kolosu’s Vegetable Summoning.

Gravity: Lumina’s Kinetic Burstm. Tukado’s Repulse. Tukado’s Lesser Shield IIa. Imari’s Minor Telekinesism. Imari’s Jump. Leo’s Pull. Leo’s Grounding. Alino’s Light Body. Alino’s Heavy Body. Alino's Orbiter.

Transmutation: Oniga's Laundry.

Spells known:

Light: Rika's Electric Channelb1

Gravity: Alino’s Weightless Bodyb1x2. Tukado's Pushb1x3. Tukado’s defense IIIb1x4. Imari’s Lesser Flightb2.

Life: Brigit’s Lesser Cure Poison. Brigit’s Skin Restoration.

(Little letters by spell sides: m=mastered. a=advanced. b=bound spell, number near the b is how many gems of the mana pool binding the said spell takes.)

Focus capability: 20 patterns.

Social status: The Queen of Red Cedar City. Inara, Daughter of Mysteries. Apprentice to the Maven of Mysteries. Sorceress.

Personal Wealth: 1465 Magic Gems. 1420 Golden Peas, 45 Silver Scales, 32 Copper Bits.

Personal Items:

Magical necklace. Contains 100 gems of general mana, can be drained like a mana pool. It’ll recharge by itself at the rate of five gems an hour.

1 potion of lightning body.

1 potion of mana, medium grade.

1 potions of Lesser Healing.

2 potions of Pain Tolerance.

An enchanted belt with eight pouches, the enchantment keeps the pouches’ content fresh. Each pouch may contain 10g of petals or six potion flasks.

42g Rose petals.

20g Lavender petals.

10 empty soul bottles. Glass with a diamond stopper, put in scaled leather wrapping.

The Great White Egret grimoire. Dedicated by the Maven of mysteries to Inara. 30/100. Locked.

Present Companions:

Languages:

Toml’a Fluent

Sinteo Fluent

Myrsha 8/10

Felul 1/10

Nim 1/10

A'arkalu 4/10

Injuries and scars: Blood loss.

Curses: unknown extracted parasite, possibly bloodline related. Gone due to an unknown bloodline magic.

Kingdom’s treasury: 3836 gold coins. 123 magical gems. ?

Kingdom’s citizen: Red Cedar City: 3,881 humans, 1,836 human children.???

Apricot City: approximate 800+ humans.

Twin Moon Tribe: No longer Loyal.

Kingdom's army: 40 footmen 284 Footmen ???. 49 Peacekeeper Knights ???. 500 Blood Spears.

Notables at Court:

Tasiya Keyholder.

Jolla SilverQuill.

Talbot Bookkeeper.

Old Gardner Tiom.

Aisha?

Chapter 128 All Orcs Must die!

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