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Rising from the Depths
(6) Chapter 70: The Tempter

(6) Chapter 70: The Tempter

If you manage to escape a dangerous enemy by the skin of your teeth, don’t then later attempt the same strategy on them. Take some time to come up with a better plan and take into consideration what you previously failed to account for. Now, if you don’t have that time, go back in and knock yourself out but don’t expect any different results.

Lavanya Sanghvi - the Monster Bane - Adventurer’s Guide to Surviving the Idroan Wilderness

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“Only follow if I attack,” Silas stressed to Bandit and Mia, “Our only advantage is our element of surprise, so if we don’t get the right situation, it’s better to not act at all.” After they had rushed back, he had warned Brigette of the coming ratkin raid and left Ethan and Olivia with the other humans. It was hardly where he wanted them, especially since the vermin would attack before the hour was up, but at least it was safer than having them accompany him into the maw of the monster.

“What if it turns out Nicon isn’t mind-controlling her? Or if they still attack us even after that point is established?” Mia asked, cracking her knuckles. She had a sword and shield by her hips but would be mainly fighting with her magic. Although the shaerd were resistant to her Elementalist abilities, she could still cheat by using her telekinesis on her surroundings.

Silas’s face set with determination. “Then we run and hope for the best, I guess. If I die there, I only ask that you guys look after Ethan.”

Hissing, Bandit stamped its feet and stretched its wings wide as if it was posturing.

Silas shook his head, inwardly surprised that the owl was willing to go that far. But then again, all things considered, Bandit had the least chance of death given its masterful nimbleness. “You say that but you haven’t seen a crossbow in action, have you? I mean, neither have I, but it’s best we don’t take them lightly. At least if I lead they’ll be distracted and you can swoop in at the right moment, whereas they would respond a lot quicker to you if you were the first to act.”

Watching their interaction, Mia laughed, attempting to stifle it at first before letting loose and committing to a hearty belly chuckle, wiping tears off her cheeks by the end. “What do you think Aengus would say if he saw us right now? Not only have we swapped him with an owl, but we’re also going to take on an entire fort by ourselves.”

Silas graced her with a small smile, his mood briefly lifting. “He would probably be jealous of how reckless we’re being. Remember how he used to make us charge headlong into the boars.” Their plan was the simplest one they had thought up of, betting on Nicon’s softness for Silas to bait him into range before murdering him in front of his guards and all. The hope was its brazen element would throw the shaerds off their scent long enough to act. Since they didn’t know any hidden pathways into the fort or even the Tempter’s habits to predict where he would be at this hour, this was the best they could come up with in what little time they had.

Clenching his hand into a fist, Silas raised it and bumped against Mia’s fist, then against Bandit’s wing. “Well, let’s get this over with before we have any second thoughts.” With this said, he and Mia strode down the last few lengths towards the gatehouse, a cool calm settling over Silas as he realised what was about to happen. It was odd how he felt so terrified at the prospect of endangering Ethan, but felt at peace when putting his own life on the line. Perhaps it was because he had already done so countless times since the start of the Apocalypse that it had calloused his self-concern.

Smiling wryly at his thoughts, he was surprised when Mia’s fingers slipped around his free hand and grasped it. He peered over and saw her blushing but staring ahead resolutely. He squeezed her hand back reassuringly, finding strength in her quiet company as they walked up to the gatehouse. Finally letting go, he called out to the shaerd guards at the gatehouse. “I need to talk to Nicon. I’ve got a warning about the coming ratkin attack.”

One of the guards, a pastel pink shaerd, frowned at him, before tapping her halberd once on the stone path. “The princess’s property is not for you to command about.”

“Then call the princess, my warning is all the same,” he replied snappily, clicking his thumb with impatience.

The guard glowered at him, her fellows joining her in this act. “Silence, ape. Know of who you speak of. This is the only warning I shall give.”

Mia glanced over at him, nodding slightly, and he took his act up a notch. “One more word out of your mouth and I’ll gut you, right here, right now. I mean, I won’t even have to do anything if you don’t pass the message along since your princess will personally take your hides when she learns of your incompetence.” In truth, Amara would undoubtedly disregard his message, but he hoped Nicon would be beside her to hear it and take an interest.

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Although the guards were foaming at their mouths at his conduct, they could only posture so much in front of someone who had an aura the strength of Laerdya’s. They didn’t need massive perceptions to know how a scuffle between the parties in the immediate area would pan out if they pushed it any further. The lead guard, a light blue shaerd, whispered in the side of another’s head (which was where their inner ears were, Silas realised) and the latter took off with haste.

Silas had heard the message, and the expletives used to refer to him, but he let the matter rest, a sullen storm drifting over his mind as he waited. Every minute they wasted was another minute the ratkin could attack in, but regardless, Amara took her sweet time in replying as it was near fifteen minutes later that they were given the go to enter. A dozen guards whizzed them through the fort and took them to the throne room where the guards disarmed them, then took positions around the hall.

The throne room was truly expansive with wide skylights filling the ceiling and marble tiling on the floor. Winding columns coiled up by the walls, and a thin, dark veil covered the bottom of the skylights, causing the room to be lit by dusky sunlight. Besides the dozen soldiers that had entered with them, there were ten others in the hall along with the heavily armoured royal guard, meaning they were effectively watched from every corner and under threat of blades from every angle.

In the depth of the hall’s belly sat Nicon on the smoothest giant chair Silas had seen, seemingly made of purple marble with four lifelike tendrils falling behind. The chair was piled high with soft cushions, and Amara sat with him, her head propped against his shoulder, watching the entrants with regal disdain. Laerdya stood not far to the side, cutting as imposing a figure as the first time Silas had seen her.

“We are told you have a message for us, although we well recall ordering you to begone,” Amara started while they were still afar, her voice carrying through the hall. The guards struck the floor with the butts of their halberds as one, causing Mia to recoil, but Silas carried on his war-path.

He felt like he was back in the past, striding towards Grace to duel her. She was long gone now, a vestige of the past, and yet he still thought of her occasionally, especially at times like this. Just like she had taken Iris hostage, Nicon had taken Ethan prisoner, and neither of them exhibited deep-rooted megalomania like Big Mike either. It was a pity their paths had crossed Silas’s at this angle instead of running beside parallel.

The Duellist stopped a handful of strides away from the princess, just before the royal guards stopped him, and lowered to one knee. “There are ratkin marching on your gates with their numbers ranging in the hundreds. Those outside the fort will be overrun the second they arrive, so I’m here on their behalf to ask, no, beg, that you let them into these walls for defence. Even if it’s just for as long as the siege goes on.”

Amara scoffed. “High chance we would allow baseborn to muddy our floors.”

Silas shifted his gaze to Nicon, and the princess didn’t seem to mind his change in focus. However, the brown shaerd smiled helplessly at his inquiring stare. “As the princess says, we can’t allow it. You have to understand, that many people would draw heavily on our supplies.”

Although the Duellist felt his mood darken and thunder, he kept it hidden behind a stoic mask as he rose from the floor and clicked his finger once. “That’s unfortunate—” Laerdya was the first to react, dashing towards him, but he easily leapt out of her range, stretching his arm out to catch the spear blasting towards him. After the signal had been given, Mia had telekinetically snatched and launched their weapons from the arms of the guard holding them at the back of the hall, firing them exactly as they had practised. “—because that was your only chance.”

He caught the spear in his outstretched arm and used the force behind it to swirl to the side, dodging Laerdya’s follow-up. The Hulk tried to slice him in two as the other royal guards closed in on him, but he vaulted above them all using the shaft, before spinning the spear mid-air. As he came flying down, spearpoint zeroing in on Nicon, Amara suddenly screeched and threw herself in the way, the blade puncturing through her purple stomach. To his surprise, however, she ignored the pain and wrapped around the weapon, holding it in place.

Fearing the royal guards behind him, Silas glanced over his shoulder while yanking his spear back, tearing it from her grasp. This moment of distraction would prove fatal as Nicon also lunged forward to grip his arm. Although the brown shaerd’s limbs were weak and skinny, they shattered Silas’s mind on contact, forcing him to forget about everyone he ever cared about. Now he only loved one, cherished one, and revered one.

Without warning, Amara collapsed to the ground, while Silas turned to Nicon lovingly. “Sorry about that, babe, I don’t know what I was thinking.”

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We all know it’s foolish to march upon enemies that we only have a smattering of information on, but what else are we meant to do when we lack both the time and resources to do any better? Enemies are constantly harrying us - not least the Ratkin - and the System introduces brand new monsters every week to its cruel enjoyment. It doesn’t help that the range of abilities in others’ arsenals have also immensely increased due to the limitless uses of magic.

As such, we have been forced to adopt general guidelines to follow, making great assumptions of every enemy we come across. Because of this, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that many a hero has died from misreading their opponents.

Wilfrid Pember - Historian- The Start of the Apocalypse