Novels2Search

Chapter 64-Demon of Dicathen

Circe Milview POV

The early morning dew of Elshire forest collected on the green leafs until they grew too heavy and fell to the ground as drops of water. I couldn't physically see it but my role as a sentry gave me heightened perception of my surroundings.

So much so that I had to completely withdraw any mana from my spells in any busy space, else my mind would be overloaded with the sheer amount of raw information. Although it was far better than when I was first given my spellforms.

I still remember the times when I would hide under my bed, desperately trying to shut of the outside world as I silently cried. I would sob long into the night, until eventually my quiet sobbing awakened my younger brother.

He was nothing remarkable, despite carrying a small sliver of Vritra blood in his veins he was born smaller and weaker than others his age. As a result of this he would rather immerse himself in books and studies than actual physical training. So while he knew about many mana arts and its application in theory, he lacked the experience and natural talent to bring out the best in him.

But still he was my blood. And perhaps it was some sibling affection or something else but I felt an overwhelming need to protect my younger brother.

He would find me under my bed during those younger years. He would ask all innocently what was wrong. And in order to not inflict any of my own panic or pain on my brother I would wipe away my tears and put on a strong face, at least for him.

Those memories felt like a different lifetime now as I looked up at the ceiling of my tent. If I was keeping my calendar right it had already been 4 months since my platoon was teleported to Dicathen.

Our direct orders were to keep a low profile and to occupy a save area in Elshire forest in order to prepare for our main forces awaiting transport. Of course of captain, being of noble blood was eager to proof himself. And his violent outbursts more than enough to tell all of us that he was growing weary of sitting here in this forest.

Luckily for me as a sentry my unit's camp was near the outskirts of our main area. So we didn't have to deal with him as much as the others.

Still I wondered how my brother was doing back in Alacrya. In a couple of years he should be beginning to attend Central Academy. A luxury we could afford thanks to me being here. At least with his physical condition he shouldn't be dragged into this war, hopefully.

I couldn't tell exactly what time it was but I knew it was close to my turn to be the watch. With a small sigh I rose from my bedroll. Raising my arms above my head I stretched away the drowsiness as the front flap of my tent opened.

"You up?" My fellow sentry asked, in her hands she held a small cup of coffee.

Rubbing my eyes I replied. "Yeah. I'm up."

"Good. I was getting tired." She said back as she left to return to her own tent. The footsteps of her armored feet grew quieter and quieter as she did so. Much like my brother I wasn't much of a social person, so I haven't made many friends here. But we still treated each other with respect, it was a warzone after all. We have enough things to be worried about.

Suppose I should be doing my job. I thought as I quickly got dressed. A simple fitting armored tunic, nothing fancy. My blood couldn't really afford much but the basic protection runes etched onto it would stop some simple spells.

I strapped the short blade that was still in its scabbard to my waist. As a sentry my duty wasn't to fight on the frontlines. I was more the eyes and ears for my companions, a scout of sorts I guess you could say. But I still needed means of defending myself if the need arises.

Leaving my tent I was hit by the humidity of the early morning air. Despite the abundant moisture the air was still cool. So much so that my breath came out in white clouds as I breathed in the cold air.

Deep wooded forests surrounded us on one side as the rest of our camp laid on the other. Even from this distance I could see the large wooden manor the captain had our more able bodied soldiers construct for him. Old habits died hard I suppose, even in a war. He was still a noble after all.

I was just happy I didn't have to be close to him. Turning my head I stared back into the forest. Despite the sun slowly rising it still wasn't enough to penetrate the dense green coverings.

I wondered how anybody could navigate in such areas that were uncharted. It is said that elves of Dicathen share somewhat of a understanding and connection to their home forest. Perhaps it was the unique plant based mana arts they had innate talent with that gave them such abilities.

I had participated in small battles with the Dicathens before. Nothing major, our unit was meant to keep a low cover after all. But from my short encounters with them they seemed... primitive. Many of their technology they used was far outclassed by ours, and they lacked spellforms of any kind. Relying on casting spells they create from scratch, which in turn led to slower casting speeds.

I don't know if the small force we faced was a outlier but the Dicathens didn't seem all that much of a challenge. And it made me wonder why the High Sovereign would even bother with such a continent.

Imbuing mana into my spellforms directly I gasped as the raw information of the surrounding world rushed into my mind. I could see the large trees that stretched up towards the skies, the small bushes and plants that decorated the ground. I could sense the mana signatures of the small mana beasts that scurried along the forest grounds in search of their next meal.

I exerted effort to further focus in on my senses. Ignoring the tress and plants I searched for any unknown mana signature. Filtering out the small creatures of the forest from my mind. I sent my senses probing into the elven forest.

I stood channeling my mana directly into my rune for a couple of minutes. Feeling around the forest for anything amiss. Until I couldn't hold it any longer and unleashed my hold on my spellform.

I let out a gasp from the effort as beads of sweat gathered on my forehead and my back. I quietly sat myself on the nearby fallen log we had fashioned into a makeshift bench.

The small beams of sunlight that could make its way through the canopy was nice and warm, giving off a pleasant and peaceful feeling that I sorely missed these days.

It did make me wonder why the Dicathen were so opposed to falling under the High Sovereign's rule. He was a gracious god, gifting upon his people the gift of mana and spellforms. As well as the comforts of modern technology the Dicathens were lacking.

Although there were rumors that the tyrant asuras of Ephetous were the true one pulling the strings on Dicathen. If so, why were the Dicathens so adamant about protecting their continent if they weren't even the ones controlling it. Or why did the asuras deem these lessers sufficient enough to carry out their will.

It was all too confusing and I was sure I was missing vital information, I was mere sentry after all. And my blood was no where near highblood noble status.

Perhaps it was my nature being born as a sentry who had to parse through information or be sensitive to many things that makes me an overthinker.

Time passed by calmly as I continued to intermittently channel mana into my spellform every couple of minutes. Until eventually the sun was high in the sky just above our heads. To be honest I was bored more than anything. I came all this way for what? To sit on a log and keep lookout?

I know we were meant to keep a low profile but it made me wonder if one of the higher ups actually forgot about us. I was just about to scan the surrounding forest again when I could hear loud yelling coming from our camp.

Royal Road is the home of this novel. Visit there to read the original and support the author.

I locked eyes with several others in my unit as we all looked at each other, then all of our gazes turned to the manor at the middle of our camp.

The door burst open as the captain came stomping outside. He still wore his usual expensive battlerobes that looked a bit too clean on the battlefield. His face was practically candy apple red as he turned to face us.

"We are moving out in 5!" He shouted through the silence before returning to his manor with a slam of the door.

"What's the problem with him?" One of the other sentries jokingly asked under his breath as he made his way to his tent to pack it up.

I moved to do the same. Taking out the supports the entire tent collapsed in on itself as I folded it up to place in my bag. When a sudden glare caught my eye, I turned to see where it came from but just as quickly as it assaulted my eyes it disappeared. And I merely waved it off as probable glare from a weapon of some sort one of our soldiers were carrying.

And pretty soon most of our platoon was ready to move. As a sentry myself I was one of the people in the front and will be sent out to scout the area ahead of us. I wasn't quite sure where we were going or if we even had a detailed plan on the surface area we had to cover but that wasn't my job. My job was the follow orders.

Turning my head sideways I could see our soldiers lining up into neat orderly lines. With small spacing for each unit. A couple hundred of mages, all split pretty even into strikers, shielders, and casters. It was a sizable force to be sure, and nothing short of a full legion of Dicathens would we have trouble with.

And while our captain himself was quite short-tempered I had to give him credit he was a proficient mage when he needed to be, as were most highbloods. All that money they political power they had didn't mean nothing.

While we were waiting I sent a jolt of mana to my spellform as the scope of my senses increased tenfold. Filtering out the Alacryan soldiers I focused my attention back onto the forest. It should have been like any other forest, full of trees and wildlife. But something about Elshire was a bit unsettling. Perhaps it was the ever present hazy mist that made visibility terrible.

It felt as if the entire forest itself was alive in some weird way, and we were not welcomed. My senses scanned the treeline, looking for anything out of the ordinary. I could sense a small mammal creature, its small paws digging around in the soil looking for something. Until it was spooked by something and scampered away.

'Strange.' I thought as I couldn't sense what the small creature had ran away from. Was there some kind of mana beast here on Dicathen that hides its own mana signature to hunt?

But my thoughts were abruptly cutoff when a large explosion from behind me tossed all of us off of our feet. My hold on my spellform was forcibly cut as I struggled to regain my bearings.

I pushed myself off the ground with my arms as I looked back at the manor our captain stayed in only to see it reduced to smoldering ashes. The captain was still alive, he must have just left his manor. But he didn't escape unscathed, his battlerobes were burnt at the ends and streaks of blood decorated his face.

"What are you doing? Find them!" He commanded, using his own mana to project his voice over us.

The soldiers quickly got back onto their feet. Most of us weren't close enough to the blast to be hurt by it. We quickly got into position as our captain joined us. Blood was still streaming down one side of his face but other than that he seemed fine.

"Sentries! Shields!" He commanded. The shielders took the frontline position as we formed a circle. Panels of mana manifested a wall of protection.

Channeling my own mana to my spellform my field of preception grew. I could feel the mana burning warm in each solider as they channeled mana to their own spellforms. I began guiding my senses to find the culprit when a sharp sound of cracking bone cut through my focus.

My eyes opened to see four shielders fall limp on the ground. No sound, no scream. Their bodies tumbled to the ground as if they were puppets who had their strings detached. The shielders moved to removed the empty space when a I could feel my heart fall to the depths of my stomach.

I slammed my mouth shut as I swallowed back my vomit. Some of the others were less fortunate as they keeled back and painted the ground a sickly green and brown. The sheer pressure of death I felt. Words couldn't properly describe it.

I have only seen Scythes and Retainers through screens. But I knew the power and force they emitted to those around them was tremendous. But this was on another level. My knees buckled as I forced myself to stand. Some of the weaker soldiers, particularly the caster dropped dead right then and their. No spell cast or weapon drawn, and people were already dead.

I was more afraid that my heart would stop as it began to beat wildly. I looked around to see everyone else frozen in fear like me. Even our captain's face went deathly pale. The air was silent, no one dare move or make a sound in fear of drawing the attention of whatever lurked in the woods just ahead of us.

Just what in Vritra's sake could emit such death and malice. Was it perhaps an asura from Ephetous sent to keep watch over Dicathen?

The silence in the air was sliced through by soft footsteps. Through the hazy mist of the elven forest walked out a single man. He wore simple plain clothes, looking more like a common villager. His skin was a milky white with golden locks of hair that flowed freely. The most shocking thing abut his physical appearance was the pair of golden cat-like eyes that seemed to peer directly into my very soul.

But that wasn't even worth noting as the pale nimbus of violet fire seemed to linger around him. His aura made manifest. Whatever his man was his plain pretty boy appearance was only a mask that hid a darker truth.

The man stopped a couple paces in front of us. The renewed silence continued for a couple seconds before he opened his mouth to speak.

"You Alacryans have trespassed upon Elshire forest of the Kingdom of Elenoir. Turn back and return home now." His voice shook the very ground as very single part of my body and mind yelled at me to do as he said.

Many others around me seemed to have had a similar idea as we all looked at each other with a panicked look in our eyes.

It was our captain who broke free from his intimidating pressure first.

"Fire!" He barked, putting his own mana into his voice it seemed to break the spell this strange blonde man had placed upon us as casters hands lit up with various multicolored spells.

But even before they launched their spells their mana dissipated with a small pop. Every caster looked dumbfounded at their hands, as if they own hands were broken.

The young man simply shrugged.

"I gave you your chance don't forget that." He said as a sword seemingly made of purple fire roared to life in his very hands. Even staring at his weapon seemed to cause discomfort to my eyes. As if they weren't suppose to exist and were warping the space around them to exist.

And it would seem someone within our ranks recognized this man and his unique mana arts.

"De- De-. It's the Demon of Dicathen!" A man screamed as he broke rank to turn and run. The captain tried to yell over the people but it was no use. There has been rumors of a mysterious man among the Dicathens. Some said he was actually the newly crowned king of Dicathen. The one who put on a proper show at his coronation. While others believed him to be an asura of some sort. But the one thing the rumors had in common was the sheer absurd amount of power he wielded. Wielding purple lightning and flames who caused much havoc among the Alacryan camps here. And seeing him now I can confirm.

Many units broke off in a mass panic. But as they turned to flee two golden giant armored soldiers emerged from thin air. And soon it was nothing but gleaming streaks of their weapons and blood.

The demon disappeared in a flash of purple as he reappeared all behind us. His hands firmly around the throat of the highblood captain. The gasped for air as his hands ignited into dark flames. He began to strike the demon squarely in the chest but he didn't seem to care.

To think he would just shrug off soulfire so easily. Without even saying anything his hands closed around the captain's neck as it burst like a balloon filled with blood. His headless body fell to the ground as some of our more brave soldiers pointed their weapons at him.

But a flick of his wrist and their upper torsos were all freed from their lower halves. They didn't even have time to realize they were dead before he dropped the decapitated head of the highblood and turned his full attention to the rest of us.

What little of the shielders that remained quickly got into formation. Their cloaks of protection mana shimmered into a wall as casters began firing volleys of spellfire.

He didn't even bother to block or dodge any of it. Multicolored spells rained down upon him but it might as well been a light breeze for him.

Seeing our spells had no effect on him the strikers jumped forward with their shielders. I could feel the mass amount of mana the shielders all used to cocoon their strikers in a thick layer of mana.

With shaky hands I pulled out my short sword from my scabbard. There wasn't much I could do as a young sentry but it was more for my own emotions. Holding the heavy blade in my hands was a bit reassuring.

'Seth. I'm scared.' I whispered in my mind as I felt warm tears run down the sides of my face.

In another flash of purple lightning he slaughtered an entire unit of twenty soldiers. All good fighters with plenty more experience than me. All reduced to blood and guts in fractions of a second.

He wasn't even trying to block or dodge spellfire. As multicolored fire rained down upon him he continued to advance.

No fancy swordsmanship, or fancy spellcraft. Making his way through each unit, leaving nothing but bloody remains in his wake. No, this was death in human form. It was fitting to see such a figure being called as the Demon of Dicathen. I have seen Scythes and Retainers battle at the Victoriad, and they seem quaint in comparison to this monster.

None of us even tried to run, we knew there was little point. In fact he seemed to be almost enjoying this in some twisted way. A slow slaughter as he savored our deaths upon his blade.

Another small gesture of his hand and the space around an entire group of thirty people seemed to stretch and warp. As their internal organs were blended from the inside. They collapsed onto the ground screaming with blood pouring out of every orifice as they vomited out their own insides.

As he drew near to the final few groups I had one final wish.

That it would all be ended quickly.