Fourier heard Ferris breathe a sigh of relief at seeing the palace finally come into view, and only wished he could share the feeling himself.
Oberon shook his head. “I’m afraid not. It has become clear that for the sake of the Kingdom, Prince Fourier must be removed.”
His pace slowed as he stared at the symbol of his Kingdom, was he making the right decision returning here?
“Fourier? Is something the matter?” Ferris asked, his head snapping around to look at him, his hand already half-raised and an orb of healing magic starting to form.
“Everything’s fine, Ferris,” Fourier said, forcing a smile. He really couldn’t get anything past Ferris’s enhanced senses.
Luckily, a patrol of the palace guards had already spotted them, and were quickly moving up to them, leaving them with little time to talk. Ferris gave Fourier another concerned look, but he withdrew his hand, the orb vanishing.
Fourier had no doubt that he’d be interrogated more about it later though.
“Identify yourselves!” the patrol leader called out. His voice was stern, but he didn’t appear to be angry. Just… concerned. Perhaps even afraid.
“We are not currently sheltering evacuees in the palace grounds. If you are from the lower city, beds have been prepared in the estates of the upper nobles…”
He trailed off as they got closer, and the light of the guard’s lagmite lanturn revealed Fourier’s face.
“Your— Your Majesty?” the patrol leader asked, his eyes going as wide as saucers. “My apologies, I didn’t recognise—”
“It doesn't matter,” Fourier interrupted. “I did not exactly send word ahead of me, you had no way of knowing I would be arriving.”
The guard looked them up and down, taking in their rugged appearance, eyes landing on the fabric wrapped around Fourier’s hand.
“Are you hurt!? We can get you to the medical beds—”
“No, I’m uninjured,” Fourier interrupted. “Right now, I simply need to meet up with my advisors.”
The patrol leader nodded vigorously. “Of course, Your Majesty. We can escort you into the palace immediately.”
He turned to his men, and made a rapid series of gestures.
The guards took positions around them, uneasily glancing into the darkness of their surroundings.
Fourier could understand how they felt, so he didn’t linger in place. He walked towards the palace entrance, Ferris close to his side, the guards remaining spaced around him.
As they passed through the entrance, the very first thing he took in was the unusual atmosphere.
The palace was abuzz with activity as nobles streamed in looking for protection, stretching the knights thin as they hurried to appease them, even as several departed into the city to help the belligerent city guard.
Fourier’s own entrance had only made the chaos worse, with the nobles beginning to scramble for his attention, and the knights trying to keep them under control.
The patrol had taken it upon themselves to escort Fourier as far as he required, which he was grateful for. They kept the people away, and cleared a path so Fourier could keep moving quickly, deeper into the palace.
It was tempting to just tell them to begin heading for his chambers. It had been an exhausting day and he was far from his best. If he began giving out orders in such a state, he could easily end up making things worse.
Yet despite that logic, he knew he couldn’t just let things be.
He shook his head at himself and continued walking straight ahead, towards the throne room. More than anything, he wanted to be a King that he himself was proud of, and he knew that he’d always wonder if he could have done anything to help if he stepped aside now.
“I am glad to see you safe,” the patrol leader said as they walked. He wasn’t a very high-ranking member of the palace’s security, but he was the most senior person there. “When we heard the news of the riots, we were fearful for your safety, but we heard that you were being looked after.”
He paused, then continued in a slightly quieter tone. “Can I ask, why were you not being accompanied? The city isn’t safe right now, surely—”
“I can’t reveal that right now,” Fourier interrupted. “I hope you can understand.”
The guard shook his head. “No, no, it’s quite alright, Your Majesty. I overstepped my position.”
He turned and stopped, right as they reached the doors to the throne room.
“Again, it is good to see that you are safe. If you require anything, I can assign a squad to accompany you.”
Fourier shook his head. “Thank you for your words, but it is fine. You are dismissed, patrol leader.”
The man nodded, then saluted, and his patrol followed suit.
Fourier watched them as they began walking back to the palace entrance.
“That was strange,” Ferris commented.
“They’re just concerned,” Fourier said. “There’s no harm in it. And it’s good to see that some are still loyal to the throne.”
He then turned to the doors of the throne room and pushed them open.
The throne room was somehow even more chaotic than the entrance had been.
It seemed like every fearful noble in the city had gathered, all desperately asking the knights what was going on, how the fire had begun, and what they were going to do in response.
“My citizens!” Fourier called out, walking towards the centre of the room.
His voice cut through the noise, washing over the crowd and causing every eye to look towards him.
“Now is not the time to be panicking. Our Knights will be needed to help keep casualties to a minimum. They cannot do that while they are here, looking after you,” Fourier said, carefully unwrapping the cloth Julius had provided, to unveil the glowing Sceptre.
In one fluid motion, he slammed it into the ground and pushed back against the mana still flowing back to him, causing the light to intensify.
In seconds, the room began to quiet, as all within earshot turned to look at the light the artefact released, seemingly entranced.
Before long however, the momentary awe the artefact had granted had faded, but more importantly, Fourier noted with a smile, so had the panic that had gripped the hearts of so many of the nobles.
“Your majesty, if we do not keep a sizable portion of the knights with us, what is to stop the rebels from attacking the palace directly to seize you?” a portly noble asked. “Even the Finest Knight appears to be absent from his place at your side.”
“Julius is currently fighting Elsa the Bowelhunter, who was roaming the streets when the riots struck. It is entirely possible that there are forces that helped form the rebellion itself, if this isn’t just an attack during a moment of convenience,” Fourier admitted. “But that just proves that the knight's duty to swiftly bring an end to all of this is of the utmost paramount, as the longer this goes on, the more time we are giving the enemies of this kingdom.”
“If this is enemy action, would splitting our forces not give them an even greater opportunity to strike at the palace, and destroy the heart of the kingdom though?” another noble pressed.
“If that’s what our enemies think, then I invite them to attack the palace directly.” Fourier said, intensifying the light once more. “They will find that we are not defenceless, and that it was a fatal mistake to attack my Kingdom.”
Striding forward, Fourier’s eyes locked onto one of the senior Knights, before gesturing towards the doors.
“You have your orders, my Knights. Organise your subordinates, and secure my capital,” Fourier said before sweeping his eyes across each of the nobles assembled here. “Does anyone else here have any objections?”
When silence met his inquiry, he nodded once more at his Knights, who hurried out accompanied by their men.
Turning around, Fourier strode forward himself, to see the man who most likely had answers for him, Miklotov.
----------------------------------------
Winds whipped through the city, both the physical winds that fed the fires and blew smoke through the streets, and the winds of emotions, which spread from person to person like a disease.
Crusch watched it spread firsthand, as a rabble-rouser cried out his inane drivel, driving his followers into fits of insanity. They raged and frothed at the mouth, baying for blood.
Specifically, Fourier’s blood.
“The prince has betrayed us!”
“Drag him out and kill him!”
“For the Dragon!”
Crusch grit her teeth, and pointed her palm at the leader of this particular riot.
“Fura.”
An invisible blunt force shot out over the heads of the rioters, and impacted the rabble-rouser in the head, causing him to stumble backwards, and fall out of sight.
“Hold the line!” a voice cried out.
It wasn’t Lucius’s voice, as she had sent her usual aide to look after a different section of the city. But his replacement, one of the captains of the Karsten forces, was still competent. At least, competent enough to follow orders and lead a division. She had had to bring another aide to keep track of the constant influx of messages she was receiving from other units throughout the city.
Ever since her conversing mirror had stopped working, she had been forced to rely on the old-fashioned method of communication, written orders and reports, carried by runners who dashed between her forces.
She wasn’t going to discount sabotage as the reason behind their sudden lack of communications, but…
She glanced up to the sky, at the red skies and smoke clouds that obscured the palace from view.
…but with the amount of mana that fire is releasing, it’s no wonder they stopped connecting.
The soldiers of the division Crusch was currently with were attempting to hold back the tide of rioters, holding firm in their shield-line, using clubs to beat back any who pushed too far.
While the actions the rioters were taking could constitute treason, and Crusch would be well within propriety to execute them, she would never take such a drastic step. And she knew Fourier too would never order it. He would much rather give up his throne than cause his people to come to harm.
But she had to admit, keeping the riots under control with only non-lethal force was proving difficult.
A new member of the riot began crying out and coordinating the group, so Crusch pointed her palm at him as well.
“Fura.”
He went down, she could see the shift in emotions as the crowd around him lost a little of their momentum.
She waited a moment, but no new spokesperson rose up, and the rioters gradually began to lose the will to continue fighting in the face of the unrelenting pressure of the soldiers.
They slowly began to disperse, and Crusch turned to the captain.
“Start making arrests. I want those two leaders in for questioning, you can be less thorough with the others.”
The soldier nodded, and then shouted, “Earth Mages! Begin cleanup!”
The shield line split apart in several places, suddenly letting a few of the rioters behind their lines, right into the waiting arms of the Earth mages, handcuffs fashioned of rock in their hands. They were uncomfortable to wear, but the guards had long since ran out of regular handcuffs. The rioters just have to live with sore wrists for a while.
With the sight of their numbers being so effortlessly reduced, the more sensible rioters started to fade away into the city, leaving the more fanatical alone, to be gradually overwhelmed.
It only took twenty arrests to disperse the entire group. Some of the ones who escaped would likely join up with other riots in the other sections of the city, but most would not.
“Lady Crusch, we’ve taken no casualties here,” her aide reported. “Every soldier is ready to move on.”
“Good. Leave the prisoners to the guards, and get us moving,” Crusch said, looking towards the city centre. The darkness of the night usually hid the skies, but now everything was lit up with red light.
The heart of the city had erupted into flames, sending up a plume of smoke that towered over them like a monstrous giant, ready to crush the kingdom beneath its feet.
How did it get so large, so fast? And it’s so far into the city as well. Did I station too many guards out in the slums? Are the rioters actively trying to spread it? Or is this the work of the assassins that are aiming for Fourier’s life?
“Get ready to move,” she said, turning back to her soldiers. “We’re going to try and link up with Lucius’s division, and get that fire under control.”
----------------------------------------
On their way through the city, they put down another two riots as they were still forming.
By the second, they had run out of guards, all of whom had been left behind to take care of the arrests that they had already made.
They had scaled back the arrests they made as much as possible to compensate, but Crusch had still been forced to leave a few of her soldiers behind.
They were stretching themselves thin, Crusch knew, but there was nothing she could do about it. The only other option was to leave their prisoners handcuffed in the street, which would be irresponsible considering the current climate of the city. They’d either be free or dead within minutes.
As they drew closer to the blaze, the smell of smoke grew thicker, and the emotions blowing around people were tainted more by fear than mania. They passed several groups of civilians on their way, all of them watching the armoured men pass with wary eyes.
Some of them could have been the rioters who started the fire in the first place, but Crusch let them pass without examining them too closely. They had more important things to worry about than making more arrests.
“Captain, send patrols out to determine the extent of the blaze,” Crusch ordered. This close to the inferno, the entire world was red, and she could feel the heat on her skin. It made it difficult to tell just how far it had spread.
She turned to the rest of her forces. “Water mages! Start putting out any fires you see, but don’t exhaust yourselves! There will be many people needing healing before this night ends. Fire mages, cool the area as much as possible! Everyone else, start tearing down these buildings! We can’t let this spread further through the inner city!”
Her soldiers started moving to carry out her orders, the division moving like a well-oiled machine. Within minutes, the surrounding buildings began to shudder and creak, as the soldiers tore into them with hooks and axes, bringing them crashing down into piles of rubble.
The ground rumbled as the Earth mages began shifting that rubble away from the inferno, burying it underneath the dirt to prevent it from catching fire.
Crusch caught sight of the captain talking to one of his subordinates, then watched as they approached her.
“Lady Crusch, there are signs of other firebreaks in the area,” he said. “With your permission, I’d like to begin building towards them.”
Crusch nodded. “Do as you believe is best. Will you need my assistance?”
The captain hesitated. “I could not ask someone of your rank to aid with such work…” he began, then trailed off as his gaze was drawn to the smoke plume above their heads.
“...but I do not know if we would complete the process before the fire reaches us,” he admitted. “Your help would be greatly appreciated.”
Crusch nodded. “Then I will. Move your soldiers out of the way. I will tear down several at once.”
The captain nodded then turned to start shouting orders.
“Excuse me, my Lady?”
Crusch flicked her eyes to the soldier the captain had brought with him. He was on the younger side, but his emotions still blazed with determination and loyalty. The fear he felt was comparatively minor when compared to those.
“You may speak freely,” she said.
The soldier nodded. “We’re being watched.”
Crusch blinked, and flicked her eyes over the surroundings. She couldn’t see anyone, and she couldn’t imagine that there would be many capable of hiding and spying in such a dire situation. “Watched? Who is watching us?”
“The insects,” the soldier pressed on, sensing her confusion. “I was previously stationed in the slums, so I’m used to keeping a watch for them. They’re everywhere. Mostly black beetles, but I saw some stranger ones around as well. I don’t recognise them.”
The air was hot enough that droplets of sweat were running down Crusch’s brow, but she still felt herself go cold.
She glanced to the sky, and her eyes quickly found a black speck floating above their heads. She had seen quite a few before, but she had just assumed that they were clumps of ashes thrown up by the fire. But if this soldier was right…
She readied her magic, then lashed out with a whip of wind.
The speck shifted direction in a decidedly unnatural way, but Crusch flung her magic around in a great circle, surrounding it in a globe of wind.
She retracted it to about the size of a children’s ball, then pulled it back down to her hand.
On closer inspection, her worst fear was proven true.
The thing in her hand was a shiny black bug, straining its wings to try and escape the orb.
The insects had finally chosen to leave their hunting grounds in the slums.
The beetle spun in place for a moment, then appeared to give up, and folded its wings back inside its carapace.
Then it looked directly at Crusch.
It was difficult to say for certain, since insect eyes were so unlike those of humans or other animals, but Crusch was certain. It was pointing its head directly at her face, as if whoever was controlling it was taunting her.
“Captain!” Crusch shouted over the din of the soldiers. “Order everyone to remain alert! The insects are watching us! No one is to be left without magical support! All groups and patrols must be accompanied by someone who can fight off any ambushes the swarms lay for us!”
The captain’s eyes widened, and he hurriedly turned to one of the fire mages.
“Fire up the regroup signal! The patrols we sent aren’t accompanied by mages!”
The mage nodded and pulled out a small piece of lagmite. A second later, he fired it up into the sky, and a blue star appeared overhead, briefly illuminating the region, before fading away.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
It was a miniature application of the Night Banisher technology, not usually useful for much more than public spectacles, but it occasionally saw use by the army while conducting night operations. It would be readily visible, even in the midst of the fire’s light and smoke.
The insect in her hand started clicking. Crusch eyed it, and watched the way it rubbed its legs together to cause the sharp sound. Normally, an insect’s actions would hold no meaning to her, but this was a deliberate act from the enemy.
It only took her a moment to realise what it meant.
The beetle was laughing at her.
Crusch narrowed her eyes. They had sent out three patrols of five to scout the surrounding areas. That meant fifteen soldiers, all of whom were outside the protection of their mages.
How many had been set upon by hordes of insects, out there in the burning city? How many of those men were still alive? How many soldiers from her other divisions had met their fates to the jaws of those swarms?
The beetle continued its mocking laughter, and Crusch swore she could sense the glee its controller felt in the depths of its pure black eyes.
She clenched her fist, and the bug imploded as the wind orb shrunk to the size of a pea.
“Good work,” Crusch said to the soldier, flicking her wrist down and letting the remains of the bug fall to the ground. “Keep an eye out for them. Raise the alarm if you see any swarms.”
With that, she strode towards the buildings the captain had evacuated, drawing her sword and letting her magic and anger loose.
----------------------------------------
“Your Highness, I’m pleased to see that you're safe,” Miklotov greeted, rising from the chair he had been sitting on. “However, I can tell that you're straining your body right now. Won't you take a seat?”
Slumping forward, Fourier nearly fell onto the chair offered to him, before resting his head on the cool table for a few seconds before forcing himself to rise.
“What can you tell me about this rebellion Miklotov? I don’t think I’ve seen a fire that big in my entire life,” Fourier said, locking eyes with the older man.
Miklotov nodded, and began to list off the events on his fingers.
“It started in the late afternoon. Several protests began to grow rowdy, and the guards contacted the palace for additional forces. Lady Crusch took command and began organising the process of breaking them up. By the evening, the unrest had spread to the slums, and had started to form into full-blown riots. The last we heard from Lady Crusch, she had reached the slums and was beginning to get the situation under control.”
“The last you heard?” Fourier asked. Crusch was competent, he already knew, but he didn’t like how ominous that statement sounded.
“The fire has reached a size where it has begun to interfere with the connections between conversing mirrors,” Miklotov explained. “And it lies between us and Lady Crusch’s location, preventing runners from reaching her quickly. I have sent some to go around the blaze, but they have not yet returned.”
Fourier felt concern rising in his heart, but he squashed it down. “Crusch won’t leave something like that unattended. I have no doubt that she’s rushing to try and get it under control right now. But what about the cause? How did all of this get so bad?”
“I’d been aware that there was a vocal minority protesting against your rule for some time now,” the older man said, rubbing his forehead. “It is one of the reasons why I was recommending you summon the Dragon, in fact, as it was the number one complaint that tied the group together.”
“Instead, we intensified the issue when the Dragon never showed.” Fourier said, massaging his temples. “Even then, I think that I could have still stalled for time, if Jaune hadn’t decided to attempt my execution.”
“Bishop Jaune?” Miklotov repeated, his face going blank. He opened his mouth, but seemed totally lost for words, unable to comprehend what Fourier had just revealed.
“I— I must admit, I never would have expected him to betray you,” the elderly man finally said. “He idolised your family, and was never shy about sticking up for his beliefs. ”
“It was certainly strange,” Fourier admitted. “Even now, I’m certain that given the current situation, Jaune shouldn’t have betrayed us. In the end, it seems that he took us all by surprise.”
“I wouldn’t dismiss your gut instinct just yet, Your Highness,” Miklotov advised. “If even you are certain that it doesn’t add up, then I promise that I will look more into the matter when the current crisis is over.”
“I’d appreciate that.” Fourier said, “However even for you, Miklotov, finding answers may be difficult, after all for they all reside with a dead man.”
“Not necessarily,” Miklotov disagreed softly. “There are a myriad of ways to influence people magically after all, and this could be such a case. Thankfully we can mostly rule out the most dangerous possibility, thanks to our sensors not detecting any sign of the Divine Protection of Mind Changing”
“Meaning you think that the culprit needed to make direct contact with Jaune.” Fourier stated, “I suppose, I’ll just have to hope that they were in the church when we blew it up.”
“If it was one of the methods that required continuous maintenance, then it is likely.” Miklotov granted. “However, I have news of many more individuals who have been acting most strangely during this riot, and if we follow our current assumption, I would expect that the culprit is still out there.”
“It’d answer many of the lingering mysteries” Fourier allowed, before his eyes involuntarily lowered. “Still I’m certain that many of the betrayal’s we’ve experienced weren’t due to something like mind control. Oberon’s eyes were clear and determined. Those weren’t the eyes of somebody misled by magic.”
“Is misguided ideologies that much better?” Miklotov asked softly.
“I don’t know,” Fourier admitted with a sigh, “But even if it turns out that some of the ringleaders have been controlled by magic, it doesn’t change the fact that to many it would be nothing but a smear campaign spread by royal money if we announce it.”
“It is one of the reasons I have ordered the rioters to be taken alive when possible.” Miklotov agreed.
“An order I agree with,” Fourier stated. “It would be a tragedy to have to kill our own citizens whose only fault is that they have been taken advantage of, whether or not it was by somebody with the capacity to poison their minds. We’ll have to get our experts to examine some of our prisoners in the near future. Until then, it is best to deal with what is in front of us.”
Miklotov nodded, and glanced at the documents on the table.
“Regarding the fire, we’ve already dispatched many of our knights who specialise in earth and fire magic to help contain the situation,” he said. “And lastly, I’ve even received a report that our Finest Knight has arrived at the palace and is being treated by our medical staff.”
Bolting upright, Fourier shot a half-hearted glare at the old man.
“You should have led with that!” he exclaimed. “I’ll have to go check up on Julius myself once we are done here.”
“No need to wait on my account,” Miklotov said dryly. “I saved the news for last, because I expected that you’d want to depart to see your friend's condition as soon as you knew.”
“You know me too well,” Fourier said, getting to his feet and heading for the door, his heart already feeling a bit lighter.
----------------------------------------
Fourier walked into the infirmary and paused for a moment to take in the sight. The normally deserted area had dozens of injured guards resting on the beds, many of whom were being examined by healers, and others by assistants.
Thankfully, Ferris tended to stand out and so it took Fourier only seconds to spot the two in a corner, but before he could approach them, an injured guardsman spotted him.
“It’s the king!” one of the guardsmen exclaimed. Fourier felt a twinge of impatience to see them all turn their heads to him, but it was only slight. He could already see that Julius was safe, so the feeling was easily overwhelmed by the warmth he felt towards his subjects.
“Indeed, it is I, Fourier Lugnica,” he boomed and spread his arms wide. He could see Ferris facepalming in the background, and felt his face soften into a smile.
“It’s an honour to be among my subjects who have incurred injuries for our beloved nation, and I have little doubt that many of you will soon be recovered thanks to our skilled healers. It is my hope that you will continue to put the same effort and faith in your future endeavours as you already have.”
Fourier allowed a small pause, as many stared star-struck at him. “I have also come to see my Sworn Knight, who bravely took on the Bowel Hunter even after he was already badly injured.”
“You are too kind, Your Highness.” Julius muttered as many eyes turned towards the bandaged man.
With his reassurances given, Fourier stepped forward until he was next to his two friends and lowered his voice.
“I hope that you didn’t make your injuries much worse by staying to fight Elsa.” Fourier asked, even as he glanced at Ferris in a silent question.
“I will fully recover quickly, Your Highness, it isn’t anything to worry about.” Julius assured, as he attempted to rise, only for Ferris to push him back into the bed.
“Don’t listen to this idiot. His wrist got mangled pretty badly, and then he chose to burn it, of all things!” Ferris hissed glaring at the unrepentant man. “It’d be one thing if it was a chunk of his arm, but with how important flexibility of the wrist is, I can hardly believe he’d be that stupid!”
“Now Ferris, we both know that Kua didn’t have the power to repair such a severe wound, as exhausted as she was, and there would be good odds I’d bleed out if I hadn’t chosen to cauterise the wound,” Julius defended himself, but it seemed Ferris wasn’t accepting his words.
“Oh, I’m sorry Ferri forgot this concept called bandaging wounds existed!” Ferris exclaimed, leaning forward to loom over Julius. “Infections can be a problem, sure, but I could have gotten rid of the beginnings of one far easier than fixing the aftermath of burning your wounds shut!”
“Binding my wounds would have taken more time, and required pressure. I needed my other sword arm for at least one more strike, and I expected that the Bowel Hunter would be more interested if I choose a more extreme method,” Julius explained, looking past Ferris to Fourier with pleading eyes.
“I’m glad to see you’ll recover then Julius.” Fourier said, smiling sheepishly, as he inadvertently took a step back. Of his two friends, he knew which of the two whose displeasure he feared more.
“Are you telling me that one of your main reasons behind deciding to burn a wound close was to impress the Bowel Hunter!?” Ferris finally exploded, his volume rising such that Fourier expected even those outside the room might be able to hear.
Immediately whispers started to break out, and Julius' scandalised look only made matters worse, not at all helped by Fourier bursting out into laughter.
For several long seconds he laughed, as he doubled over as his own tension finally broke.
“You're going to be breaking a lot of hearts, if you act like that Julius,” Fourier teased as tears of mirth began prickling his eyes.
“Your Majesty,” Julius protested voice rising in pitch for a second, before he released a slow breath and forced himself to relax.
“You two are going to destroy my reputation as the Finest Knight, if you spread rumours,” Julius said dryly, as he seemed to resign himself to his fate.
“Next time then, don’t go mutilating yourself, and Ferri will consider taking things like your reputation into account,” Ferris said in delight.
“Now that I know that you're alright, Julius, I better head out,” Fourier said, smile still bright. “I’m going to be going to check our communication mirrors to find out more about what’s happening, and see if I can’t help organise this mess.”
“As long as you aren’t insisting on going out into the city by yourself,” Ferris said, “I suppose I should stay here and help with the patients.”
Nodding at his friends, Fourier strode out of the infirmary and headed towards the communication mirrors, mind set.
----------------------------------------
Crusch swung her blade and once more destroyed the insect that had attempted to attack her blind spot.
Crusch found herself alone, as her wind magic swirled around her, keeping the smoke and insects away, though it was unable to dissipate the sheer heat that radiated from the fire.
Several of her guards had protested at leaving her by herself, especially in an area they knew their enemy was active in, but right now they needed to be at multiple places at once if they wanted any chance of preventing the fire from spreading.
Their arguments had focused on the value that she presented to her enemies, should she be captured or killed. She didn’t disagree, Crusch knew that presenting herself as a target would draw their enemies’ attention. But even by herself, Crusch was a force to be reckoned with. She was more effective than any of the small squads she was currently able to dispatch.
And it seemed the risk had been worth it. So far, she’d been able to take care of the regular insect ambushes easily.
Her magic put her at a natural advantage against the flying menaces, and thus far, the insect controller hadn’t tried to overwhelm her with a full swarm.
Likely, they didn’t want to lose too many bugs in the heat of the blaze.
She swung her sword, and another building was blown apart, collapsing into a smouldering pile.
By taking down some of the worst structures, hopefully the fire would die down enough that her water and earth mages would be able to come in and quench the rest of the blaze, or at least be able to search for survivors more effectively.
Her lips tightened at the thought that she was potentially feeding her enemy information on where she was at all times; however, as with that information and with the knowledge of where she was heading, it was all too likely that she was walking into a trap.
The knowledge that it would lower the amount of assailants elsewhere was a meagre comfort, especially with how unusually well-staffed and powerful this rebellion had turned out to be, but it was something to keep in mind with how few people she had for such a disaster.
Crusch never paused however and soon she found that the heat was steadily rising, to the point that even with her wind’s aids, she still found her body weakening.
----------------------------------------
Crusch had reached the epicentre of it all, and it would be a sight that she would carry with her for the rest of her days.
Fire dominated the eye as far as she could see, as smoke filled the air and suffocated even those who had found ways of staying safe from the baking heat. The houses here were truly beyond saving, tearing them down would do little more than bring them down sooner.
But they still needed to come down. This part of the fire was right up against one of the forested areas of the noble district. Good fortune had kept the wind from spreading into that area so far, but the minute the wind shifted, the trees would go up in flames, and they’d spread the fire to the entire city. In the worst case, the people in the royal district could become trapped by a moat of flames around the palace.
Such an event would be the death of the city, perhaps even the nation itself.
Sweat dotted her brow as her body tried in vain to cool her down, even as her eyes itched due to just how dry the air had become. At this rate, Crusch had to admit that even she’d need to turn back soon, as even her magic was becoming increasingly less effective, with how heavy the mana in the air felt.
The sound of crushing metal echoed in the air, and she found her eyes drawn to it, as she furrowed her eyes. Even if her soldiers were proceeding in record time to create firebreaks around the blaze, they couldn’t have reached this area yet.
Had the fire grown hot enough that houses were beginning to come down on their own? Or could a friend or foe have caused it?
Dashing forward, and ignoring the burn of her lungs, Crusch threw herself into the open, eyes searching for a person.
In seconds she spotted a man, covered in familiar armour, stumbling as he walked, using his sword as a walking stick. She darted towards him and readied herself for an attack, should it be another rioter or rebel.
“Lucius?” Crusch asked in surprise at the familiar face of her father’s lieutenant, but didn’t completely lower her blade.
His eyes took a moment to focus on her, even when his head was pointed right at her, exposing his half-burned face.
“Lady—” Lucius began, before coughing violently, spraying the cloth around his face with blood and something darker, his one working hand clenched tight on the blade keeping him upright.
His other was a blackened stump, seared into something unrecognisable by the intensity of the flames it had faced.
But he didn’t appear to feel the pain of it. Only one thing was swirling in the winds of his mind, a relentless determination to see his mission through.
Crusch was not a healer, but one of her closest friends was the Blue, so she had picked up some knowledge.
That knowledge made her certain of a single fact. If he didn’t see a healer soon, her aide wasn’t going to live to see the dawn.
“Lucius,” Crusch whispered softly, tightening her grip on her sword before steeling herself. “Under ordinary circumstances, either of us would order any soldier so wounded to see an healer urgently.”
Crusch allowed herself a moment to gaze at the smoke and heat billowing around her barrier, obscuring her vision and making the entire scene more closely resemble a dream, than reality.
“Do you wish me to bring you back to safety?” Crusch asked.
She was well aware of the duty she had to her faltering commander, and she would carry it out, even though she was also aware of just how many people might die if they failed to contain this fire.
“No,” the man whispered weakly. “This is far more important, I’ve brought this building down and I should be able to manage two more with what I have left. Other areas will be more important, Lady Crusch.”
Crusch closed her eyes for a second in respect. They were both aware that the man wouldn’t survive if he continued on, but his life would help save many others.
“Do you have any last requests?” Crusch asked even as she took her eyes off the man to scan the surroundings, and decide on her next objective.
“Only one. I have upheld every promise and oath I have maintained my whole life, but there is a new one that I won’t be able to uphold,” Lucius said, shame creeping into his tone. “There was a girl named Plum Risch, whose mother’s body or ashes I swore to bring back to her. I won’t be able to do it. Can I ask you to take my place, my lady?”
“Of course,” Crusch agreed without hesitation. “It would be an honour to do so personally, Lucius. I hope that one day, we may meet again in another life.”
Without any more delay, Crusch strode forward once more to the target she’d decided upon. She’d trust Lucius’s evaluation of himself, as well as his sacrifice.
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Fourier stared at the metia in his hand, the reflective mirror shimmering with faint light as it tried to establish a connection. It wasn’t an unusual sight, sometimes the devices could take a few moments to set themselves up.
However, he had been staring at this one for almost a minute, and it still had not changed.
“We’ve been able to connect to some units on the west side of the city,” a voice said, and Fourier looked up.
A communication officer in the standard outfit of a civil official stood at attention, his back ramrod straight, and looking dead ahead, not meeting Fourier’s gaze.
Someone from the army. They tend to be a little more rigid than the usual officials.
“The west side… so away from the fire?” Fourier asked.
“That is correct, sir. It seems that the interference is entirely natural effects from the fire rather than direct sabotage. However, we cannot rule it out completely.”
Fourier nodded.
“Have the messengers sent to Crusch returned yet?”
The official shook his head. “They were expected some time ago, but as of yet we haven’t heard anything. It is possible that they are taking some time to get through the areas where riots are still ongoing.”
Fourier pursed his lips. That was a reasonable enough explanation, but something in his gut felt it wasn’t adding up. The messengers employed by the palace were quick on their feet, and more than capable of avoiding trouble when out on their duties.
And what of Crusch’s messengers? She surely would have dispatched some to inform the palace of her intentions when she caught sight of the blaze. Those messengers would have only had to make a one-way trip. Why hadn’t they arrived?
Because they’re dead, a voice whispered in the back of his mind. He tried to shrug it off, but he had seen Elsa Granheirt in the city. How many other assassins were running around, trying to keep them isolated and weak?
It’s a play, Fourier realised. What’s the most basic rule of warfare? Divide and Conquer.
He abruptly got to his feet.
The official jumped as Fourier’s chair clattered to the ground behind him, but Fourier didn’t give him a chance to speak.
He turned to the rest of the room, the other officials looking up at him, shocked at the sudden breaking of the silent atmosphere.
“Someone get the remaining knights! Inform them that we are leaving at once! The rest of you, use the mirrors to contact every group of our forces you can reach. Order all units to cease sending messengers, and not to split up. Do not send messengers from the palace either.”
He turned to the official by his side. “Do we have a Night Banisher on standby?”
The official blinked. “Eh— yes, I believe so. It is being held on an estate not far from the palace.”’
“Order it fired,” Fourier said. “Send an entire patrol to carry the message. Tell them to make it a red flare.”
“A red flare?” the official asked, his face paling. “That may cause massive panic. That’s the signal for…”
“I know,” Fourier said, already moving towards the door. “Invasion. We are under attack by a hostile force.”
He only hoped that he could reach Crusch before their enemies decided to bring their might against her.
----------------------------------------
Crusch looked around, unable to stop the slight sway of her body as even her coordination became affected. Her wind barrier kept out the smoke, hot ashes and even helped steady her as she passed through the wreckage, but it could only blunt the terrible heat of the blaze.
Her skin felt hot and raw, and her clothes would be drenched in sweat if it hadn’t been evaporating off so quickly.
On occasion, her vision would swim, and she would have to pause in order to keep herself upright.
And that was only the effects of the fire.
At first she’d thought it a coincidence, but as she swung her blade and killed the insect spying on her, she became sure.
The fire was weakening.
It was the only explanation on how the insects had returned, as the heart of the fire had previously been far too much for them.
There were two possibilities, either her men had managed even more than she expected them to with enemies actively ambushing them, or they’d gotten reinforcements from somebody, most likely being the city guard.
It was an idea that brought a tired smile to her lips.
She scanned the area even more carefully. Crusch was well aware that she was drawing ever closer to her limit, and while the fire weakening was a welcoming sign, it also freed the enemy’s insects to once more spy on her. Chances were high that she’d soon be facing an actual opponent rather than her enemies' insects soon.
Taking a look around, she could only spot one more building that she hadn’t dealt with in this segment, and so with a soft sigh, Crusch strode towards her final destination.
The world seemed to shudder as she walked, but unless the capital had the misfortune of being hit by an earthquake on top of everything else, it was likely all in her head. Her sense of balance was being thrown off, but she was still capable of putting one foot in front of the other.
For now, at least.
She stepped as close to the building as she dared, and then raised her sword.
The wind surrounding her began to speed up, before the majority of it flowed into her blade, and she brought the weapon down, releasing a blade of wind. In seconds it reached the building, and destroyed the last of the building’s support, allowing the abused building to finally collapse into a heap, the flames in its timbers blown out by the intensity of the wind.
As the sounds of falling debris rang in her ears once more, Crusch forced herself to remain still at the sounds of a blade swinging towards her back, only to allow herself to fall forward at the last second, and swing her sword around in response.
Her signature blade of wind was a pale shadow of its normal strength, but despite its diminished form, it still completed its job and tore her attacker in two.
Really? An attack here and now, as a fire rages across the city? He can’t be a simple rioter.
Ignoring the spray of warm blood, Crusch completed her spin and saw four additional attackers charge at her, all dressed in the signature white cloaks of Lugunica’s Royal Knights.
Ah, if those are legitimate knights, I may have met my match.
Even that singular wind blade she had fired had torn open her wind barrier, allowing the copious amounts of smoke to surround her.
She held her breath and raised her sword to the ready. Normally it would have been a simple matter of waiting a few seconds for her wind barrier to re-establish itself, but in a fight like this, even seconds would be valuable.
If this is to be my death, then I will meet it head on.
Abandoning her attempt to reform her barrier, Crusch chose to enhance her blade once more, but before she could throw herself to her death, she heard the distinct shouting of her name, cutting through even the sounds of falling debris.
“CRUSCH!” shouted the voice of somebody who shouldn’t be here, couldn’t be here and yet came barreling forward regardless.
A man covered in armour charged through the flames, the blaze parting around him like a lion’s mane, as the lion shaped armour gathered it around him. Blue light flooded the street, as he raised a glowing Sceptre above his head, bellowing his warcry. He met the first of the four royal knights with the deafening screech of folding steel, the glow intensifying momentarily, before crashing through the man’s blade and sending him skidding back.
Unable to believe what she was seeing, Crusch froze for an instant but as she saw the look in Fourier’s eyes, she found herself untensing as the last bit of magic she’d summoned for a desperate attack, once more returned to forming a barrier.
For Fourier Lugunica’s eyes had only been blazing like that once before, and just like last time she knew his victory was assured no matter the opponent, after all even she’d fallen in front of those eyes.
“Your Majesty, you can’t be running ahead!” shouted an unfamiliar voice as several more royal knights ran towards the fight, ready to back their king up and destroy the traitors.
Crusch found that her eyes couldn’t leave the fight, as Fourier handled the unfamiliar glowing Sceptre easily, and despite being temporarily outnumbered, he still managed to force the four back alone.
Soon though, the traitors didn’t even have numbers on their side, as the true royal guard arrived to back up Fourier. Outnumbered and outmatched, it didn’t take long before all four of the traitors were incapacitated.
But Fourier didn’t spare them another thought.
“You're alive!” he cried out, crashing into her with a desperate embrace. “I was worried, even though I knew that you’d never fall to such lowlives.”
“I am,” Crusch said, taking a step back to study Fourier’s face. The king’s normally pristine face was covered in soot and ash, yet with his crimson eyes blazing brighter than ever before he looked every bit as regal as he normally did. Perhaps even more so.
“I too am glad to see that you are safe.” Crusch admitted. She looked at him more intently, her addled mind realising that Fourier was still supposed to be calling the Dragon. Which meant…
“Did the Church join in on this disgusting display?”
“They did,” Fourier confirmed. “I’ll have to tell you all about Julius’s heroics at another time. For now all you need to know is that they will no longer be a problem.”
“Your Majesty, we have tied up the captive least likely to die on transport,” said one of the loyal royal knights as he saluted them both.
“Good. The rest of the reinforcements will see to the fire,” Fourier ordered, eyes not leaving Crusch for an instant.
His next words were quieter, meant only for her. “I’m taking you back to the palace to see Ferris. It’s time to go home, Crusch.”