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SUPER! - A Medieval Superhero Story
18. Fool Me Thrice, Part 2

18. Fool Me Thrice, Part 2

Lace was soaked in sweat, both from exertion and the fire raging all around her.

The townsfolk just didn’t give up. Torchbearer sent out lashes of fire to corral them, which they avoided with surprising acuity. Lace couldn’t do much other than watch and keep the fires burning.

Torchbearer looked up from what he was doing and gazed at the sky with a hand over his forehead to block out the sun.

“There!” he said. “Look!”

Lace followed his gaze and found an arrow drifting high in the air above the other side of the complex, reaching its apex and dipping back down.

It exploded in a dazzling display of thousands of colored sparks. Lace gasped at the sight of it.

“A trick arrow,” Torchbearer said grimly. “Eagle-Eyes is in trouble.”

In his lapse of concentration, the fires flickered and started to fall. With a twinge of panic, Lace funneled a large pillar of air down into their circle. She gasped with the effort, fires stoked once more. The crazed townsfolk howled on the other side, some having been burnt by the sudden spitting flames.

“What do we do… Master?” she panted, steadying her tired body by putting her hands on her knees. “We’re barely holding our own over here.”

“We need to make our way over to them. We stand a better chance of surviving if we regroup.”

“What about Evangel?”

Torchbearer balled up his left hand and swung it in a wide arc. He threw a ball of crackling flame straight into the air ten or twenty meters up, which bloomed into the silhouette of a bird with its wings spread, before dissipating into a puff of smoke.

“Our priorities have changed. I will not tolerate any loss of life on this mission.”

The townsfolk went eerily quiet.

Lace looked around. They parted to the left and right, forming a wide path. They stared blankly into the flames with their arms at their sides.

“What are they doing?” Lace asked.

“I don’t know,” Torchbearer said. “But I don’t think they’ve given up. Be on your—”

A deep roar split the air. A huge, bull-necked man bounded down the empty path. Broad-shouldered, big-bellied, and hairy, he looked like he might have been a match even for Haden. He showed no signs of slowing down even as he neared the fire.

“Creator’s breath,” Torchbearer mumbled. “Brace!”

The big man put his arms in front of his face and leapt through the circle of fire without missing a beat. He swiped with a massive, burning arm, hitting Torchbearer and throwing him back to the other side of the circle. He landed on his back, chainmail clinking, and slowly worked himself into a sitting position. A large section of his chainmail had been bent out of shape.

Up close like this, Lace could see how tall the man truly was. He was at least two and a half meters tall, maybe more. His eyes were bloodshot and red, and his face was split by a toothy grin.

“Tiny humans,” he thundered. “This body will tear you both apart limb from limb.”

Torchbearer rose, supporting himself on his flaming sword. He spat blood.

The big man bit into his thumb, grinding his teeth until he pierced the skin. He flicked a few drops of dark blood into the fire to his left. The flames turned sooty and blood red, spreading throughout the whole circle. With a gesture from the man, they started to fade away.

Torchbearer gritted his teeth. The flames shifted from red to orange and back again, flickering in a tempestuous struggle.

“This one’s a humanoid,” Torchbearer said. “We’re going to need more power to take him down.”

The big man charged and Torchbearer leapt out of the way. Flames enshrouded his body, smoke billowing from him. Soon, a large portion of the circle was engulfed by a dense, grey cloud, hiding the Hero completely.

The humanoid quickly gave up the search with a snort. “Very well. If you are so intent on hiding, I will prey upon your little toy here.”

He turned, facing Lace, and his demented grin grew wider. He cracked his knuckles as he walked towards her. All around them, the flames still raged, its color and intensity billowing back and forth.

Lace readied and launched an aero-shot. The humanoid slid back a hair but didn’t fall off balance. He continued with a derisive laugh, his shadow falling over Lace.

She looked at her hands. If that didn’t work, there was nothing in her arsenal strong enough to budge him.

She could hear Torchbearer speaking, chanting muttered syllables that sounded like no human language she knew, guttural and laced with harsh intonations.

The humanoid made a sweeping blow and Lace ducked out of the way, his fist missing her head by a hair. He followed up with several more punches, each faster and more furious than the last. Each time, it was harder to dodge, even though she used her wind to propel herself that extra distance. He soon had her stumbling and tripping over herself.

She coughed from the smoke which now covered almost the whole circle in a dense blanket. Her eyes teared up, blurring her vision.

The humanoid wound his arm back for another punch.

There was no time to dodge.

She put her arms up in a cross, bracing herself.

“Hey, ugly!”

Two arrows thudded into the humanoid’s chest in rapid succession. He backed up, growling.

Lace looked back just in time to see Bits leaping off the roof of the drug den, sword in hand. He crashed into the big man, blade burying itself into the side of his neck and sliding down into his torso. Eagle-Eyes stood on the edge of the roof, nocking another arrow.

The humanoid roared, swinging his bulky body back and forth. Bits held onto the sword handle with both hands, but was eventually thrown off and rolled across the ground.

The humanoid sank down on one knee, working his jaw like an animal as he attempted to pull the sword from his shoulder.

Lace rushed over to Bits and checked him for wounds. He looked mostly alright apart from a few scuffs.

“You saved me,” she murmured, hardly believing the words coming out of her mouth.

“Didn’t expect that, did you?” Bits said with a grin. “You didn’t show, so we thought we’d take matters into our own hands.”

Lace couldn’t help but smile.

Never thought I’d see the day I’d actually be happy for his presence.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

*****

It was eerily quiet apart from some distant shouting outside. A few of the merchant guards still twitched. Kiren impaled one that was trying to get up, leaving the blade inside his heart.

He walked over to Mug, gaze lowered. He couldn’t bring himself to meet the man’s eye.

Mug cleared his throat. He didn’t try to pull the dagger loose.

“So,” he said. “You’re with them?”

“Yeah,” Kiren said.

“Must be good money.”

“Not really.”

“Then why?”

Kiren shrugged. “Got my reasons.”

He bent down and picked up the tome at Mug’s feet.

The same one he had stolen from Ren Ludenhaas.

He finally met the fence’s gaze.

“What is this thing?” he asked, holding up the book. “Why would a monster like that want to get a hold of it?”

“Beats me,” Mug said with a tense shrug. “He was offering lots’a money, though. I didn’t expect… all this.”

Mug had a bad poker face. His lip twitched when he was lying.

Kiren sat down next to him, pulling his legs underneath him.

“Come in quietly, won’t you?”

“Are you kidding me? I didn’t expect motherfucking Excelerate to show up. I’m not moving a muscle. Not in the mood to get gutted like those worthless sods.” He spat a glob of phlegm at the dead mercenaries. “Paid good money for them too.”

Kiren nodded. “Good.”

He resisted the urge to cut the man loose and wish him on his way.

He’ll have me in his corner. That’s better than nothing.

He still didn’t fancy Mug’s chances.

*****

The humanoid ripped the sword from his body and tossed it aside with a muttered curse in some tongue-defying language. He stood, half wreathed in smoke, towering over Lace and a supine Bits. More arrows penetrated his chest, arms, even his neck, but he hardly even flinched.

“It does not matter how many of you decide to join the fray,” he rumbled. “I will simply crush you all at once.”

A ghostly, white glow alighted within the smoke at the other end of the circle. The humanoid turned just as a flaming sword pierced the grey veil, aglow with white flames, tinged green at the edges. The humanoid brought his meaty hand up to block. The blade sizzled and spat as it sank through the hand, and the humanoid let out an anguished scream. He stepped back, batting at the white flames creeping up his arm.

“Apologies for keeping you waiting,” Torchbearer said, stepping out of the smoke. “Let’s finish this.”

The flames coming off his sword danced oddly, almost as if tiny figures were contained within. Even at a distance, Lace felt as though she could hear faint whispers coming from the sword.

It’s almost like… that hand.

At Winewater.

Could he possess that power, too?

Lace helped Bits back on his feet and threw him his discarded sword. He rolled his shoulder and winced with pain, but gave Lace a thumbs up.

The humanoid roared, finally putting out the fire. His flesh had been seared almost to the bone, and beneath wriggled dark, oily tendrils.

“Feeble creatures! You will die! The One Among the Stars hungers for your flesh!”

He bellowed his defiance to the sky, and the circle of flame was snuffed out all at once.

The humanoid turned to walk away.

The townsfolk surged, giving him a wide berth as he retreated.

Several of the townsfolk fell with arrows sticking out of their feet and ankles, but there were dozens more to take their place.

Torchbearer rushed in front of Lace and Bits, slicing at the air with his blazing sword. The townsfolk hissed and backed away from the white flames, but he could only occupy so many at a time.

Lace took a deep breath to settle her racing nerves. She dropped into a low stance, feet wide and arms up in a loose guard. She put her back to Torchbearer and Bits so that they stood in an approximate triangle.

The raging mob ran straight at her. They were not far, now—close enough for her to see their distended pupils and twitching fingers.

“I need your help,” Lace whispered. “Come to me like you did before. I need you.”

The man in the lead jumped at Lace.

She swiveled to the side and gathered a ball of air, slamming it into the side of his head. The compressed force sent him tumbling over himself, and he fell into two others.

The next came, a woman. She swept her legs. A third leapt over her, and Lace barely had the time to fend her off with a rushed aero-shot. Bits sliced up a few more, working with conservative footwork and efficient movements, never extending a finger’s breadth more than he needed.

The fourth and fifth were too fast, circling around Lace and lunging at her with murder in their eyes. She stepped in to rebuff the first, fully knowing the other would get her.

Just as she threw her punch and sent the man sprawling, she felt the wind coalesce around her, without her command. A pressure on her shoulder, almost like a comforting hand. A tickle in her ear, like the breath of an intimate lover.

I am here, a voice spoke.

An intangible figure made of a milky white light stepped out of her body. It whirled around her, arms and legs dispersing for but a moment, and reforming once it stopped. Lace turned just in time to see the townsman at her back be flipped onto his back. The figure squeezed itself down his open mouth, and the man let out a scream. A moment later, a fleshy blob the size of a small cat slipped out of his mouth, twitching a few times before growing still upon the ground.

In her amazement, Lace almost let a woman claw her in the face. Bits had her back, hitting the woman over the arm with the blunt of his sword, then kicking her center mass, sending her into a heavy fall.

“Pay attention!” he snapped. “This is no time to be daydreaming, shit-for-brains!”

Lace straightened herself out and faced the next three townsfolk coming at her. The milky light merged with her, becoming a part of her.

It was as if she had four arms and two minds.

Her movements became a blur. Her enemies came and went, rebuffed against her defense. Her own arms blocked and swept attacks aside, while the ghostly ones counter-attacked and pulled spawnlings from incapacitated hosts.

Between the three of them, a sizeable pile of unconscious or wounded townsfolk was forming around them, making it harder for the others to clamber over in order to reach them.

Still, there were simply too many of them. There seemed to be no end to them. As the fight went on, Lace’s breath grew labored, her arms heavy.

A group of townsfolk piled on top of her. She fended off their limbs and the spectral double did the same, but the sheer weight of them pushed her to the ground. The glowing figure disappeared, and Lace was alone with the screaming, clawing horde. They pressed down on top of her, squeezing the air from her lungs.

She thrashed and batted at them, but no amount of effort made any difference. One of the men got his arms around her throat and squeezed, a gleeful smile on his face.

No, no, no, she thought, panic entering her mind. I don’t want to die like this.

She clawed at the man’s arms, but they were like iron. She couldn’t budge them.

There was a loud crash of splintered wood.

A moment later, the weight was lifted off Lace’s body. Men and women went flying, thrown off her like ragdolls.

Excelerate stood over her, gazing across the street with a discerning eye. Goldcoin was next to him, twiddling his blond mustache between two fingers.

“Couldn’t even stay on your feet, huh?” Excelerate said.

Lace looked around but didn’t see Kiren. She felt a twinge of worry but fought it down. “Where’s Kiren?”

“Oh, he’s fine,” Excelerate said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Where’s Evangel?”

“I don’t know. I thought you were supposed to take care of him.”

Goldcoin helped her to her feet and she rubbed her raw throat. He slapped a man that came towards them with the flat end of his rapier, causing him to stumble over one of his unconscious companions and topple to the ground.

“We searched the whole complex,” Excelerate explained. “Nothing. He must have escaped outside. You didn’t see anything?”

“There was a large humanoid, aggressive,” Torchbearer called, placing the tip of his glowing sword against a prone townsman, drawing a scream and eventually a limp spawnling from his throat. “He seemed to be in command.”

“That’s not the one,” Excelerate said. “Evangel is short and has a collected demeanor. He wears a wooden mask.” He dashed a full ten meters and back, incapacitating a half dozen hostiles along the way with movements too quick for the eye.

“Didn’t see anything like that,” Bits said.

“Me neither,” Lace said.

The townsfolk were thinning out, most of them having been taken care of. The Heroes mopped them up quickly, and Torchbearer took care of the spawnlings before letting his white flames die off.

“Then he’s escaped,” Excelerate said with the barest sigh. “We lost.”