Priscilla rode toward Silvervale, expecting the imperial's soldiers to be there. If demons had pervaded through them, feasting on a town of sacrifices would have been the obvious choice. Silvervale was a part of Countess Silverwood's territory, but all the reports said she rarely left her villa in the south. She left her land in the hands of a trusted aide despite it being in the way of the Sandlands and the empire's movements.
After twenty minutes of relentless galloping, Priscilla burst into the town and witnessed hundreds of soldiers mercilessly slaughtering the people. They tossed body after body into the center and let the blood pool beneath their corpses.
Seeing the carnage, Priscilla immediately jumped off her horse and propelled herself forward, sending flaming needles flying toward the imperial soldiers. At this point, it did not matter whether they were demons in human skin or corrupt humans.
The needles struck the soldiers, eliciting widespread howls of pain. Their bodies writhed and transformed in the process. Their grotesque flesh peered through the peeling, charred flesh that fell off their bodies.
"Who are you?" One of the creatures snarled as flames spread across its body. "You dare interfere in the sacrifice! Get her!"
The transformed soldiers rushed toward Priscilla, claws, and fangs bared for the world to see, no longer hiding the monstrosity that lurked in the depths of their being. Priscilla scoffed at their numbers and wove through the air, raising her body over their offense and striking from behind.
The surviving townsfolk stared in awe at the woman, fluttering through the air like a goddess, ridding the town of the barbarians that had butchered their family and friends without warning. She was a ray of hope in an otherwise dark time. The empire attacked them, but she saved them.
A dozen creatures came, and a dozen creatures fell. Priscilla moved like a visceral storm, blowing through their ranks mercilessly.
A dozen creatures came, and a dozen creatures fell. Priscilla moved like a visceral storm, blowing through their ranks mercilessly. It caused widespread hysteria among the beasts. And an even greater joy to swell among the townspeople, who cheered for the woman with all they had.
The creatures amassed like crazy, rushing out from buildings across the town, their flesh transforming as they approached the wicked woman who attacked them so foolishly. But they were the foolish ones to Priscilla, who took their frontal assaults as a welcome sight, piercing them with flames until nothing but char remained.
Soon, the numbers dwindled, and relative peace returned. Still, a few stood before Priscilla, their bloodshot eyes bulged and fangs snarling. But as her actions had already broken down the townspeople's common sense and beliefs, they roared fervently, cheering her on like nothing Priscilla had experienced.
She could feel a connection rising between her and the town, a thread that tied their feelings to her through the very air they breathed. Priscilla did not know what was happening, but she could feel her flames burning brighter, the wind blowing harder, and her powers amplifying alongside their beliefs in her. She turned into a breeze that sliced through the creatures one after the other, spraying blood and guts across the buildings. After a few more moments, she remained alone, surrounded by dozens of corpses.
But Priscilla knew that it had been too easy. The empire could not send so few soldiers toward the Sandlands. She breathed in a much-needed respite and turned toward the joyous townspeople. "Have you seen more of the soldiers head beyond the town?"
"Eminent One! I can answer that!" One of the men stepped forth and spoke out, "There were thousands of them marching, but they split off—" He paused his words to scan Priscilla's face for any dissatisfaction with him stepping forward, and seeing that she didn't complain, he continued.
"Most of the soldiers left to the boundary to meet the barbarians—the remaining ones split across the bordering towns and villages to 'protect' as you can see."
"How long ago did they leave?"
"I—I'm not sure, Eminent One. Some time did pass, but once they started attacking like mad, there wasn't a chance to keep track of it."
"Okay," Priscilla said, contemplating whether to go ahead or meet with the others first. "You should all leave from here. More trouble may very well be coming soon."
"But, Your Eminence—where will we go? The very empire is the one that butchered us like cattle." The man dejectedly replied, unwillingness burning in the depths of his eyes.
"The empire is changing, and death will come for all if we're not united. If you trust my words, head to Blackthorn. Tell them Priscilla Valentine sent you, and they'll find a place for you."
"Count Blackthorn's territory? But that's still a part of the empire—are you certain, Eminent One?"
"The count is dead. Blackthorn is my territory now." Priscilla said bluntly.
The man paled, and whispers surged through the crowd behind him. Their eyes shone with a greater fervor than that which shone during the battle. "We'll do as you say, Eminent One!"
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"Good, go now. I don't know when more of these demons will return." Priscilla waved them off and headed forward.
As she raced beyond the town, she collided with several groups of imperial soldiers loitering around the area. Prowling for any runaways, the moment she attacked with lethal intent, their demonic cores revealed themselves, changing their flesh into a monstrous exterior. Her breaths grew ragged with every creature she slayed, but more than fatigue, she felt an exhilaration with every defeated foe. It was as if each kill made her feel complete—more one with herself.
Hours passed, and Priscilla sat against a tree, her back drenched in sweat. Before her, countless deformed and disfigured corpses piled up, their vile blood soaking the ground beneath them. And before the bodies could lay ruin to the land. Priscilla dropped her palm toward the mound, setting it ablaze like a grand funeral pyre. "Return whence you came from, ashes to ashes. There is no place for you here to taint my home."
After catching her breath, Priscilla continued onward toward Sunstone Pass. There were too many of them for her to do everything. Even if she could burn them all to ash, she couldn't risk running out of stamina in the midst of the enemy. Meeting up with the others would be the best option against the entire group that stands before them.
Priscilla rode the wind gracefully through the tree-packed path until she heard the sounds of battle to her right. She quickly approached it and found Vorn surrounded by a dozen once-human, transformed creatures.
Vorn danced around the brutish beasts skillfully, pivoting her long, slender legs against the ground and dodging their attacks. Each time she'd bypass their assault, she'd stab her dagger toward the nearest beast, drawing blood from a vital point and causing it to howl and thrash.
Priscilla smiled at the display. Jensen's friends were all more capable than one would think. As Priscilla approached, the trees rustled beneath her force, and Vorn quickly jolted, sending a hidden knife from her thigh flying toward Priscilla. Immediately, she gasped and jumped back, striking another of the imperial creatures. "Forgive me, My Lady!"
"It's fine. Do you need any help?" Priscilla chuckled as a gust of wind sent the flying knife hurling back toward another of the creatures.
"If you would be ever so gracious, My Lady. I'd appreciate it."
Priscilla laughed, and not long after, the two women proceeded toward Sunstone Pass, searching for the others.
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Further away, Jensen, on the other hand, had met up with Vera and several others as they made their way to Sunstone Pass. They had cleared out several groups of demonic entities and planned to await Priscilla and the others, but as their group approached the pass, they heard the sounds of battle violently thrumming through the air.
Looking into the pass, they found the imperial soldiers in their human flesh clashing with the barbarians from the Sandlands. The soldiers' armor glistened with crimson that shone brightly in contrast to the Sandlands' people's bronze skin glistening with sweat.
The soldiers struggled against them, but despite their struggle, the soldiers didn't transform. Jensen wasn't sure if they weren't monsters like the rest or if they had other reasons. One thing was for certain. The sand people were vicious opponents. Their curved blades twirled through the air like a force of nature—magical and divine. They spoke in a language different than the imperial tongue, but one did not need to know it to understand the anger and determination that laced their words.
Jensen's group was so captivated by the battle that they didn't realize they had approached two different forces, neither of which were friends. It was a foolish mistake, but they couldn't do anything about it now. Their approach was noticed by both sides, causing both sides to grow wary and patient.
The soldiers glared at the group with unconcealed hostility, whereas the sand people spoke among themselves in words unknown.
Jensen thought about it and waved his group forward, "Let's attack the demons. We'll convince the Sandlands that we mean no harm."
Without notice, they lurched toward the soldiers in a maddening rush. The already wary soldiers felt provoked and defended with all they had, but the group plowed through them, sending them flying. The sand's warriors took that moment where the balance broke and doubled their onslaught.
Soon, the imperial blood sprayed across the earth and covered the crimson stone of Sunstone Pass. But Jensen's group knew more than to let their guard down. Jensen faced the barbarians and yelled out, "Be careful! There's a great evil spreading through the empire. They're not human!"
His warning was timely, but for some of the warriors, the warning still came too late. The imperial soldiers began rapidly transforming as their flesh cracked and bled, and the blackened, rubbery meat underneath peered through. The demons lashed out, striking several of the warriors dead and biting through their throats, drinking the blood and chewing on the flesh.
The warriors shouted out more unknown words and attacked with unprecedented fury. Their blades danced beautiful arcs through the air, cleaving at the monstrous beings before them. They showed no fear or hesitation faced with the vile creatures. No, they only showed the raw and provoked fury, desperate to carve holes into the beasts.
And so, the battle escalated into a bloody brawl where chunks of meat scattered across the pass. The demons were starved, gluttonous beasts that devoured their hunt, but against the reckless assault from the sand's people, their hunger meant nothing.
It was the sand's warriors that showed why they were the true apex hunters, and the demons were merely prey strutting around on their land. The battle quickly devolved into a slaughter, and before long, none of the demons present remained.
Jensen huffed through a smile, "You people ain't so bad! You really showed those monsters. But be careful there should still be a lot more of them coming."
The sand warrior in charge turned toward Jensen and spoke in their unfamiliar tongue, and immediately after, the sand people surrounded Jensen and his group. Their blades twirling in their hands, ready to strike.
"What's the meaning of this?" Jensen said, his grip tightening around his warhammer.
"Come with us if you don't want to die." The warrior replied in the imperial tongue.
"You can speak the imperial language? If you understood us, then why are you attacking us? We're on the same damn side!" Jensen said as he raised his warhammer, aiming it at the man.
His action caused the warriors surrounding them to hiss and step forward, but their leader whistled and waved them back.
"Don't make me repeat myself. This is a mercy for your help. Come with us, or we will slaughter you like these beasts. Choose now. Our patience is not as long as those from the empire."