Chapter 180: Prime Edict

  Stryg and his companions traveled in the dark through the rocky fells of Widow’s Crag. They had been walking for a few hours since the ambush on their camp. Fortunately, they hadn’t met any other enemies. Soon they would reach the first sharp cliff, the rendezvous point Loh had given him.

  Stryg glanced back at the others, the students were tired, exhausted from the battle. Many of them muttered under their breath of how none of this was supposed to happen; they were aristocrats, they were meant to be in castles, not trudging through the wilderness.

  The innocent families the students were meant to escort were quiet, save for their crying. They had lost many of their loved ones in the ambush and none of them seemed to wish to speak of it.

  Callum Veres seemed to be talking with Kithina about the man she had killed to save Clypeus. It was odd how one kill had left her so disturbed. If they were in the Bloodfang Tribe, she would have been ridiculed and shamed for such weakness.

  “How much farther?” Clypeus asked.

  Nora held up the map, “It’s pretty hard to read anything in the dark, even with a full moon.”

  Stryg glanced over. The darkness did nothing to hinder his sight. “Not very far.”

  “That’s a relief, my feet are killing me,” Nora groaned.

  Stryg stopped in his footsteps, he raised a flat open palm.

  “Stop,” he whispered.

  Clypeus drew out his gladii blades and fell into a defensive stance. The others soon followed. The commoner families hurried behind them, along with a few of the students who shook in fear.

  Stryg ignored their noises and stared at the shifting grasses.

  “Enemies? How many?” Clypeus whispered.

  “...It can’t be,” Stryg muttered.

  The tall grass parted, two pale indigo eyes stared out of the darkness.

  “I don’t believe it, maybe there is a god after all,” a sultry voice giggled.

  Clypeus’ eyes widened, “Oh no…”

  “Bellum, help us,” Callum trembled.

  Lysaila slithered out of the grass, her blue scales shined with a faint purple sheen under the silver moonlight. She brandished her curved longsword in the palm of her hand with the ease of a grandmaster.

  Several students screamed at her appearance and ran away.

  Nora felt her legs grow numb, “I-is that an actual lamia?”

  “Yep,” Clypeus nodded grimly.

  “Like the very venomous, notoriously deadly beast-kin?” Kegrog swallowed.

  “Except this one is a bloody sword grandmaster too,” Stryg muttered.

  “She’s the one who almost killed us all back in winter during the attack on Mora Castle. She's from the Cairn Tribe,” Callum said.

  “We’re going to die,” Kithina whimpered.

  Lysaila’s forked tongue slipped out, she smiled, “It seems my reputation precedes me. How wonderful.”

  “We can do this, this isn’t like last time. We’re all together. Stryg beat her once, we can do it again,” Clypeus stepped forward and brandished his blades.

  “That’s not exactly what happened,” Stryg said reluctantly.

  “I was hoping you’d put up a fight,” Lysaila licked her lips.

  A towering shadow loomed behind her. The grey axlean Grim stepped up from behind her. His white milky eyes looked over the students.

  Grim’s long neck bent down and whispered into the lamia’s ear, “They all look like teenagers. I don’t think these are the ones who dealt with our scouts. We should finish this quickly and keep searching.”

  “The short boy standing next to the vampire with the blades, that’s him. The one who kicked me out the window,” Lysaila said.

  “...I see, in that case,” Grim made a small gesture with his hand.

  A dozen warriors rose from the tall grass behind him.

  Clypeus took a step back. He glanced at his love, Nora’s expression was bleak. He glanced at his sworn ward, Callum; the hybrid vampire looked terrified, but he tried his best to hide it.

  Clypeus turned to Stryg, the goblin’s face was impassive, but his pupils kept undulating, emotions wild.

  Stryg glanced back at his best friend and nodded.

  Clypeus nodded in return. He took a deep breath and crossed his blades in front of his chest, “I am the Shield of Veres. Be it monster or man, here I stand proud and I shall not falter!”

  The Cairn’s warriors shifted in their stance, they began whispering amongst each other.

  “Brave words from a boy whose heart is beating incessantly with fear,” Lysaila smirked.

  Droplets of water began crystalizing around Grim’s hands, “That boy is a Gale, we should not underestimate him, especially if there is a Veres nearby.”

  Lysaila stabbed her sword into the ground and started clapping, “Would you look at that? It seems the men know who you are, young swordmaster. Even Grim, an axlean from another realm, knows your name.”

  “Another realm?” Clypeus furrowed his brow.

  Lysaila’s lips curled. Her indigo eyes shifted away from the vampire and settled on the blue goblin, “I on the other hand know about you. Even if you don’t announce yourself, even if you try to hide, I know what you are, Mortem. And I know you don’t belong in this realm either.”

  “Stryg, what is she talking about?” Clypeus frowned.

  “No idea,” Stryg shook his head.

  “Is that your name? Stryg? Well then, Stryg, tell me, how many Mortem magi are left? Where are all of you hiding? In Hollow Shade?” Lysaila asked.

  “Look, crazy snake lady, I don’t know what’s wrong with you. But I have no interest in answering your nonsense,” Stryg pointed his spear at her.

  “What’s wrong with me?” Lysaila chuckled. “I wanted to ask you the same thing. Truth be told, I was hoping you wouldn’t answer. It’ll make it that much better when I have the men slice bits of you off and force you to... speak.”

  He hissed, “I am Stryg of Ebon Hollow. I have killed your kind before and I’ll gladly do it again!”

  She hissed, “I am Lysaila of the Amber Realm, the last true blade of my people and I will avenge them!”

  The captain of the Cairn warriors walked up next to his two superiors, “Commander Grim, what are your orders?”

  Grim cracked his long neck from side to side, “Didn’t you hear Lysaila? Kill them.”

  “Yes, commander!” The soldiers yelled in unison.

  The words echoed through Lysaila’s sensitive ears. The sound of the wind swimming through the grass died. The heartbeats of everyone around her faded away until all she could hear were the twin heartbeats of the prey in front of her, the one she had dreamed of slaying for so long.

  The boy’s lilac eyes darted around and for a brief moment, his eyes met hers. Liquid thunder coursed through her veins. They were going to kill him. Her muscles tensed. He was going to die. Her slit pupils constricted. They dared lay a finger on him!

  Lysaila grasped her sword in one swift motion and sliced off the captain’s head. The world slowed to a halt. Everyone stared at the lamia in utter shock. Grim was the first to react, he pointed his outstretched palm at her, ice shards condensing in his hand.

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  Lysaila’s tail swept under his feet, Grim stumbled. Her blade swept up in a blur and chopped off his hand. The axlean roared in agony. The sound broke the other Cairn warriors from their daze. They raised their hands, mana pooling through their bodies and forming deadly spells.

  “They’re all magi!” Clypeus yelled.

  Lysaila snapped her tail at a nearby mage, her steel-hard scales cracked his chest and sent him flying. Another mage slammed their hands into the ground, green mana seeped into the earth. The rocky ground shifted, sharp jagged stone spears shot out straight at the lamia.

  Lysaila’s body curled around the flying spears and her sword blocked the ones she couldn’t dodge. A shower of flame rained down on her. She threw herself to the side, the heat of the flames seared past her. A pillar of water and ice rammed into her from behind. The lamia’s body bounced off the ground like a rag doll. She slammed into the rocky soil with a loud crash.

  Lysaila gasped in pain, blood dripping from scrapes all over her skin. She gritted her teeth and picked up her longsword.

  Lysaila’s tail shifted and pulled her back to an upright position. She brandished her blade at the dozen Cairn magi. Grim lurched to his feet, he wrapped his bleeding arm in his cloak.

  “I didn’t want to hurt you, Lysaila. You left me no choice. Why have you done this?!” Grim yelled angrily.

  Lysaila pointed her blade at the axlean. Her indigo eyes were calm and her voice steadfast, “I’m sorry, but I will not let you near him.”

  Grim narrowed his eyes, “...Kill the lamia.”

  The Cairn magi closed in on her.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Stryg muttered with wide eyes.

  “W-we… We have to help her,” Clypeus gripped his swords.

  “Right,” Stryg nodded.

  “No!” Lysaila screamed. “Run as far as you can, Stryg! You must live!”

  “What?” Stryg frowned.

  “She’s right, we need to go now!” Callum dragged Stryg and Clypeus back.

  “N-no, something is wrong,” Stryg faltered.

  “There’s no time! If we stay, we’ll die with her! Those aren’t novices she’s fighting, those are battle-trained magi. We need to run!” Callum pulled him away.

  Stryg watched as Lysaila danced around the spells whizzing past her. Her body shimmered and four illusions of the lamia appeared. They all screamed in defiance and attacked the Cairn magi.

  Stryg looked back one last time, he didn’t understand what was happening. Why was she helping them? She was an enemy, a lamia, a member of the species that murdered a dozen Blood Fang hunters. So why did he care? Why did he feel pain in his chest as he watched her battle for her life?

  Callum and Clypeus pulled him away from the magical onslaught. Stryg ran and followed his companions into the dark, explosions of flame and ice roaring behind them.

~~~

  Stryg trudged through the tall grass with the rest of the students. It was still dark and the sun was still hours from rising. The commoner families and even most of the students struggled to keep up with Stryg and the other skilled novices. Clypeus and Kegrog stayed at the rear, ensuring no stragglers were left behind.

  Stryg didn’t blame the stragglers. Everyone had walked all day and now had been forced to walk throughout the night. He was surprised that so many of them hadn’t dropped from exhaustion. He supposed it had to deal with the desire to live or perhaps the fear of death.

  “We’re almost there,” Stryg climbed up past the final rocky hill.

  His lilac eyes widened, “There it is…”

  “Thank Bellum,” Callum sighed in relief.

  The vampire climbed the last few steps up the hill, behind Stryg. The sharp cliff lay in front of them, the Dire River rushing down below. The grassy cliff was bare.

  Callum swallowed, “Where is everyone? Where are Loh and the other magi?”

  “They’re not here,” Stryg whispered.

  “I… I don’t understand,” Callum said with uncertainty.

  Stryg’s shoulders trembled, his voice shook, “It means this isn’t the right cliff. My master must have said to meet at the second sharp cliff… It means I led us to the wrong spot.”

~~~

  Crow turned the page of his book, eager to lose himself in its words. The only alternative was to continue listening to the lecherous, brazen elf.

  Kyriil sat next to him on the wagon’s driver’s bench. Whereas Crow was busy reading, the elf was busy driving the wagon. At least, Kyriil was supposed to be driving. He had put the reins aside and had been using his hands to illustrate his stories. Luckily, the centaurs pulling the wagon did not need a driver.

  Kyriil cupped his hands in front of his hips and began rocking his waist back and forth, “So there I was, just pounding away at this woman’s ass. She is panting and squealing in that sexy voice, you know which one I’m talking about, right? Yeah, of course you know, you look like the kinda guy that fucks.”

  “Mm,” Crow turned another page of his book.

  “Anyway, I was completely focused on cracking her ass open like a walnut, hehe, you know what I’m saying,” Kyriil winked. “When all of a sudden this big orc walks in, ugly fucker I tell ya. I mean, all men are pretty ugly compared to me, no offense.”

  “None taken.”

  “Well, this orc walks into the tent. He snarls and his face gets even redder than it already is somehow. Turns out the dwarf I’m banging is actually in a ‘relationship’ with the orc. What do you think happened next?”

  “Seeing as you’re a high-master mage and sitting here, regaling me with your oh so interesting exploits, I’m going to take a wild guess and say you killed him before he killed you.”

  “Oof, close, but nah, no, that’s not what happened at all. So there I was, butt naked, balls deep, on top of this dwarf gal. The orc was like, ‘You son of a whore!’ Then he pulled out his sword. I was like, ‘Oh, hell no!’ I raised my hand to burn a light beam right into his face, but then the dwarf screams in this stuttering kinda voice - I haven’t stopped fucking her you see - she screams, ‘Stop! He’s one of Lord Marek’s elite!’”

  “How unexpected,” Crow turned to another page.

  “I know right!? I bet you can’t expect what happened next?”

  “Not a clue.”

  “The orc drops his sword, just like that. His face gets real pale and he falls to his knees, begging me not to kill him and his family, who were also part of our tribe. Turns out Lord Marek instructed every single member of the Cairn and all the other tribes that have joined us or we’ve subjugated, to not mess with his elite team. In other words, us,” Kyriil nudged Crow’s shoulder.

  “How fascinating,” Crow turned to another page.

  “Suffice to say, I kicked the orc out of the tent and told him to never come back. The dwarf gal then admits to me that the only reason she is sucking my dick - she started sucking my dick at this point - is because I am one of Marek’s elite. She even acted all scared when she said it. I didn’t believe her, after all, who could refuse the beguiling looks of an elf, ya know? That’s when I realized she was trying to get some coin out of me.”

  “Clearly. What other possible explanation could there be?”

  “Exactly. So, I told her, ‘I’m not going to give you a single bloody coin! And if you try to stop sucking me off, I’ll let Marek know you tried extorting me.’ And what do you think she did? Nothing! She just shut up and kept sucking my dick. Then I went round two on her ass. That was over two months ago. I’ve been going around the camps ever since, looking for the women I like best.”

  “Your irreproachable proclivities are worthy of admiration,” Crow turned to another page.

  “I don’t know what that means, but thanks. Anyway, after two months I came to realize that the best women aren’t drow, orcs, nor humans. It’s dwarves. They’re so tiny, which makes them that much tighter, hehe. Nowadays I usually sleep with at least two of them. Every night is a party if you know what I mean,” Kyriil laughed.

  “Totally.”

  Kyriil groaned, “But tonight, there is no party. The only company I have are a bunch of weird horse people pulling our wagon and you, a man. Oh and the little guy sleeping in the cage at the back of the wagon. You know, the deadly monster baby that would happily rip off our faces if we got too close.”

  “That reminds me, make sure the wagon doesn’t hit any bumps. The Unildyr hatchling hates bumpy rides.”

  ”Believe me, I haven’t forgotten.” Kyriil sighed, “I miss my dwarf girls. Marek told me I couldn’t bring any of them with me to the negotiations.”

  “How tragic.”

  “Yeah, it really is. Dwarf women are amazing. Although, if I’m being honest, the ones I really want to bang are the girls in our group. Though, I think Lysaila would probably crush my lil guy if I tried with her.”

  “Heh.”

  “What?”

  “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Oh, okay. Where was I? Ah, right, then there’s also Dawn; that hybrid thing she’s got going is pretty sexy in an exotic way. But I think she’s fucking her twin, Vaughn. How else do you explain the creepy way they are almost always together?”

  “Now it all makes sense.”

  “Right? And I saved the best for last, our vampire queen bee, Nokuti. What’s not to love? Her fit hourglass figure, that soft brown skin, and that stern demeanor… oof,” Kyriil shivered energetically.

  “...” Crow turned to another page.

  “Whenever I see Nokuti all I can think of is wanting to tap that ripe ass. I bet she is tighter than any dwarf. But I have to admit, weirdly enough Nokuti has refused all my advances. I think it’s because she might be Lord Marek’s girl. Which means I might as well kiss my chances with her goodbye,” the elf’s shoulders drooped.

  Crow closed his book, “Actually, Nokuti is single.”

  “What? Really?” Kyriil perked up.

  “Most definitely, I am the spymaster of the Cairn Tribe. I know these sorts of things.”

  Kyriil nodded, “Yeah, that makes sense. But what about Lord Marek? What’s his deal with Nokuti?”

  “They’re childhood friends, practically siblings, no attraction for one another whatsoever. In fact, you should go talk to Lord Marek about your feelings for Nokuti. Tell him you want to fuck Nokuti right in her tight ass. I bet he would be more than happy to help you do just that.”

  “Really? Wow, thanks, Crow. I always thought you were a little weird, what with that bird-mask and feather cloak thing going on, but turns out you are really a solid friend,” Kyriil patted his back.

  “You flatter me.”

  A wave of fire erupted in front of them, searing the grass and scorching their centaurs in an explosion of searing heat.

  “Oh shit!” Kyriil jumped back.

  Crow stayed completely still in his seat, practically frozen in time.

  “Marek, you foul scourge, death has come for you! You are surrounded! Surrender and I’ll let you die like a man!” A feminine voice called out angrily from the darkness.

  “Did she say Marek?” Kyriil whispered.

  Ten shadowy figures emerged from the tall grass and surrounded the wagon. Each one wore a black cloak with heavy hoods.

  One figure stood a few dozen paces directly in front of the wagon. She threw off her cloak and spread her arms wide, orbs of orange flame igniting above her palms, “Get off the wagon, Marek, you cowardly bastard! Let me give you the same mercy you showed my brother!”

  Kyriil raised a shaky finger, “T-that’s the woman, the one who attacked Grim and me at Mora Castle. That’s -”

  “Loh of the Great House of Noir,” Crow said softly.