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Saga of Ebonheim [Progression, GameLit, Technofantasy]
Chapter 151: Siege of Drakon Castle, Part III

Chapter 151: Siege of Drakon Castle, Part III

The air stank of sweat, blood, and demon ichor. Ardeunius drove his greatsword through another demon's chest and kicked it away from him. He glanced around the battlefield. The number of demons dwindled but they still had many left. It would take a while longer before they could defeat them all.

His greatsword, Judicator, gleamed with a light that was far from natural. The runes etched into its blade pulsed with a deep, angry crimson, like the heart of a forge. Every swing sent arcs of fire slicing through the air, leaving blazing trails in their wake. Wherever the blade struck, demonic flesh melted beneath its touch.

The smell—oh, the smell—was like a butcher's shop set ablaze.

"Shields up!" Ardeunius barked, his voice cutting through the chaos of battle.

His knights snapped into formation with the practiced ease of men who’d long since abandoned hope of dying in their beds. Crimson and gold, they moved as one, forming a solid wall between the demons and the Arcanists in their midst. The crackle of lightning and fire heralded the arcane shields being conjured into existence. They flashed brightly as bolts struck against them, but held firm.

"Hold steady, lads!" Ardeunius roared, swinging Judicator in a wide arc that cleaved through the nearest demon. The beast’s head toppled from its shoulders, and the body crumpled, leaking dark ichor onto the ground.

Another Asura lunged forward, claws extended, but it met a wall of shields and sharp steel. The knight to Ardeunius’ right thrust his spear deep into the demon’s gut, twisting with a grunt as he wrenched the weapon free. The beast fell, twitching, its blood hissing as it hit the superheated earth.

"Form up!" Ardeunius called, pulling his men closer together as the next wave approached. The demons snarled and spat, their eyes wild with hate. But Ardeunius knew hate. He had lived it, breathed it, wielded it like a weapon in battle after battle. These creatures didn’t frighten him. No, what frightened him was losing control—losing his men to the madness that clawed at the edge of every battlefield.

And so, he did what he always did. He channeled that fear, that rage, into power.

“Burning Vow!” he bellowed, raising Judicator high. The runes on the blade flared bright, and a ripple of fire spread from the sword’s edge, cascading outwards in a wave that washed over his knights.

The flames licked at their weapons, and the steel of their blades took on a fiery glow. It wasn’t just light and heat—it was purpose, pure and burning, searing into their souls. They were the Order of the Burning Shield, and this was their sacred duty. To protect, to cleanse, to burn away all darkness, and bring forth a new dawn.

"For the Order!" Ardeunius roared, charging forward with Judicator ablaze. His knights followed, their weapons igniting upon impact, sending plumes of smoke billowing into the sky.

He ducked under a wild swipe from a Bhutava’s crude axe, slashing at its knees as he passed. The beast fell to the ground with a shriek, but Ardeunius paid it no mind. There were more demons to kill.

The shield wall parted to let him through, and he plunged into the fray with a yell.

He caught sight of one of his knights, Ser Andor, struggling with a particularly large Bhutava. The demon had disarmed him and was about to bring a heavy axe down on the knight’s exposed head.

Ardeunius didn’t think—he just moved. With a burst of speed, he crossed the distance and interposed himself between the knight and the demon. He caught the axe blade with Judicator, grunting as the force nearly tore the weapon from his hands. But he held firm, channeling the strength granted to him by the flame.

With a roar, he shoved the demon back, sending it stumbling away. A squad of his knights swarmed over it, hacking and stabbing until it fell. Ardeunius let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, my lord," Ser Andor panted, wiping sweat from his brow. "I thought that was the end for me."

Ardeunius clapped him on the shoulder. "Think nothing of it, lad. Now get back into formation—we've still got work to do."

Ser Andor nodded and scrambled to join the rest of the knights. Ardeunius turned to face the enemy once more.

The Shadaksha above had grown fewer in number, as Evelyne and Viviane had managed to blast them out of the sky. Their barrage slowed down. The remaining Asuras on the ground surrounded the Order and the Silverguards in a large circle. The shield wall formed a bulwark between them. Ardeunius stood at the center with his knights, prepared to deal with any who would breach their defenses.

"Hold the line!" he bellowed, brandishing Judicator before him. "Hold fast, lads! We will prevail!"

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The battlefield sprawled before Ingrid like a scene from one of the old Hrafnsteinn sagas—only with more demons. It had been years since she'd seen combat on such a scale, but the thrill of battle never failed to ignite her blood.

A kaleidoscope of colors flashed and sparkled around her as swords clashed and magic flared. She weaved between the battle lines, deflecting blows and striking out at vulnerable targets.

A Bhutava lunged at her, its jagged sword swinging down with a force that could have cleaved a man in two. Ingrid sidestepped smoothly, letting the blade glance off her shield. She didn’t retaliate, not yet. The charge-blade needed more time, more energy. Instead, she danced around the demon, keeping it at bay with quick jabs and parries.

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Another demon joined the first, then another, until Ingrid was surrounded by three of the hulking brutes. She held her ground, letting them come. Blow after blow, her shield absorbed the force of their blows without giving way. Each impact sent a ripple through her arm. The strain made her muscles burn, but still she held.

And then, she felt it—the weapon was ready.

With a flash, the shift triggered a chain of reactions within the weapon's arcane mechanisms. She plunged her blade into the sheath within the shield, twisting a series of runic dials at its base. With a hiss, a series of latches snapped shut, locking the blade in place. Her shield split and extended, forming a double-bladed axe head in its stead.

The weapon roared to life, the runes blazing with icy light. Ingrid raised it above her head and charged into the nearest demon with a bellow. She brought her weapon down in a vicious arc, cleaving through the demon's armor and cutting through its midsection. Blood sprayed over her face and armor. But she didn't stop.

She spun around, slashing at the second demon. It ducked under the blow and countered with a swipe of its claws. Ingrid dodged, then lunged forward again, driving her axe blade into the beast's shoulder.

The third demon attacked from behind—or tried to.

From the treetops, Serrandyl dropped with a ferocious scream. Her gauntlets crackled with lightning as they raked across the Bhutava's hide. A brief explosion ensued from her attack. Ingrid took advantage of the distraction to finish the job with an icy charge attack.

"Nice teamwork there!" Serrandyl grinned, showing off her canines.

"Thanks!" Ingrid gave the Beastkin a brief nod before spinning around and bringing her axe down upon another Bhutava.

Serrandyl moved among the combatants like a living thunderstorm. Bolts of lightning erupted from her gauntlets with every hit. Her punches left scorched craters in their wake.

Ingrid had to admit—the Beastkin could fight. She made good use of her natural agility and strength, tearing through the demons with glee. And she wasn't afraid to get dirty. Her fists were coated with ichor and gore, but she seemed unfazed by the carnage.

Meanwhile, Ingrid moved from squad to squad, offering support wherever she could. She shifted between defensive and offensive tactics as needed, switching between her charge-blade's sword and axe modes.

The tree sentinels from Ebonheim provided much-needed help in defending the Order's frontlines. They remained ever vigilant for any Bhutavas or Shadakshas who attempted to flank their lines. Their whirling limbs and cyclones knocked down any who attempted to cross over to the rearguard.

As for Evelyne and Viviane—Lorne watched over them as they wreaked havoc upon the airborne demons. Lorne dashed about, swinging his blade and dashing away, striking where needed and coordinating with the tree sentinels.

Soon, Ingrid found herself fighting back-to-back with Serrandyl as they fended off a trio of Shadakshas. The demons spat at them with Eldritch blasts and physical shards.

"Do you have a plan?" Serrandyl asked, dodging another volley. "These things are starting to get on my nerves."

"Aren't you able to summon lightning from the sky?" Ingrid asked in turn.

Serrandyl blinked. "Oh yeah..."

With a fierce growl, Serrandyl extended her clawed gauntlets high above her head.

Storm clouds darkened the sky above the battlefield. Lightning flashed as bolts rained down from above. One bolt struck a Shadaksha head-on, sending its body flying into the woods. The others scattered, only to be struck down by more bolts.

Ingrid felt her hair stand on end as the static electricity washed over her. But she ignored the sensation and kept fighting. Another Bhutava approached them with heavy steps.

Serrandyl leapt at the creature with a roar, slamming her fists into its chest. An explosion of thunder erupted upon impact, sending the demon flying backwards. Ingrid charged in to finish it off with a quick strike. The ichor splattered across the ground as the beast crumpled.

"I think we've got them on the run," Serrandyl said, breathing heavily. "There aren't many left."

"Good," Ingrid replied. "Let's end this."

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The last Bovikara fell after Ebonheim repeatedly fired barrages of Enchanted Essence Bolts augmented with Frostwind Gust at it. She waited for the demon's orange aura to fade before letting out a sigh of relief. She took a moment to regain her bearings and catch her breath.

Hopefully the fighting had gone well on the other side.

She used Aboreal Stride to go over the battlefield and check on the situation.

From what she could tell, the battle was almost won—they'd managed to defeat most of the Asuras on the ground. Those that remained were the ones in the sky, and they too dwindled under the volley of blasts from Evelyne and Viviane. Their Aetherframes stood at the edge of the treeline, blasting away. Lorne dashed between them, guarding their flanks.

Ingrid and Serrandyl worked together to fend off the Shadakshas circling overhead. They seemed to be holding their own, so Ebonheim left them to it.

Ardeunius and his men fought in a ring of fire, keeping the remaining Bhutavas at bay. The knights advanced in formation, cutting down any who dared approach.

Ebonheim wasn't sure how long the battle had lasted, but she was glad to see her allies prevail. She continued firing off her divine arrows at the remaining demons until they fell to the ground. Once they were all defeated, she allowed herself to relax.

Her Essence reserves had dipped to a low ebb, but still not dangerously so. For now, she checked her combat log to assess the results.

A quick calculation told her the Asuras' total casualties amounted to two-hundred-and-eighty-six. Of those, around a hundred were Shadakshas, six Bovikara from the gatehouse guards, and the rest were Bhutavas.

The Order of the Burning Shield suffered thirty-four casualties. Half of them were from the first charge. Fortunately, The Silverguards suffered zero losses, though many had wounds from the fight.

Ebonheim felt guilty for letting the Order bear the brunt of the casualties. Perhaps if she'd focused more on providing support rather than fighting directly...she shook her head.

No. She'd made the right call. If she hadn't stepped in when she did, there would've been far more casualties among the Order.

Now, though...there was one last matter to deal with. The remaining demons within the castle itself.

She wasn't sure how many there were, but they weren't as numerous as those outside the walls. She could handle them alone. She still had a bit of Essence left over, and between her Conversion and Self-Regeneration, she should be fine.

Having the others accompany her into the ruins would be foolish. There was no point risking their lives unnecessarily.

"I'll be heading inside the ruins to clean out any remaining demons," she announced, causing the others to glance at her. "You all stay here and rest up. I'll handle this."

Before anyone could argue, Ebonheim used Arboreal Stride again to ascend above the treeline and head towards the ruins. She wasn't going to give anyone a chance to follow her. They had already done enough today. And besides...this was something she wanted to do alone—finding out if the rumors about a captured deity were true.