Steel Wolves of Craedia (Realm of Arkon, Book 3) (45 page)

BOOK: Steel Wolves of Craedia (Realm of Arkon, Book 3)
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There came the crunching sound of bones breaking, and the raid channel lit up with gleeful cusses, with the girls more than holding their own against the boys. A bolt of lightning struck the ground just ahead. With a smirk, I stood up in the stirrups and saluted the rapidly darkening sky.

"Ingvar is with us!" a voice yelled behind me, and another lightning bolt followed in apparent confirmation
,
striking right in the midst of the undead infantr
y
.

"Reece, Salta, take the right quadrant," that was Elnar now. "Everyone else, follow me! Ingvaaaar!"

Missing us miraculously again and again, the lightning bolts kept striking at the skeletons bursting into the city, taking them out by the dozens. Though I was fully confident in our victory even without the assist, apparently our patron god was of a different opinion. Either that or he was simply bored. Or maybe he was avenging the deaths of his Order's knights, Ivar and Olta? Whatever his reasons were, I wasn't going to argue.

As my troops and I smashed into the next quadrant, I unloaded on the pressing skeletons with complete abandon. Frenzy to Gloom, followed by Fortification! I threw up my shield to block the swing of a two-handed axe wielded by a death knight, an enemy officer, and countered with an Ice Blade, followed by a Tongue of Flame. Gloom upended the knight with his tusks, knocking him down. My next Ice Blade crit just as Elnar appeared on my left, skewering the mob to the ground with his spare pike, and proceeded to hack away at the enemy commander. I was barely feeling any pain—my combat form and a pair of dedicated healers took care of that. A stiff to my right caught me in the hip with his sword, only to be smashed to bits by a getare leaping out from behind me. The blow took off two percent HP... What a joke. My half-legion could have probably annihilated the entire undead host camped outside the city without any help and not sustain a single casualty.

 

You have gained a level! Current level: 194.

You have 2 talent points to allocate.

Class bonus: +1 to intellect; +1 to spirit.

You have 6 stat points to allocate.

 

To my right, rows of archers and mages were blasting away at the enemy infantry while keeping them at arm's length. The skeletons had no chance in hell. Freeze, Rain of Fire, Blizzard, Chain Lightning, Rockfall all mixed together, sweeping away the undead fighters as they were trying to close the gap.

The blue light went out of the death knight's eyes before he could get back on his feet. Surrounded by two hundred melee fighters and one hundred healers behind us, we rubbed off another half-legion of undead in the span of fifteen minutes, and found ourselves out in the open.

Demon faces were now flickering on top of the walls. They were waving to us as they dropped large rocks onto the heads of skeletons crowding the entrance.

"Get back!" Elnar bellowed into the general channel. "Archers and mages, finish off the ones at the gates. No AoE spells or you'll hit our own!"

I knew then that it was all over. At least on this side of the city walls.

Hot damn! We had just slaughtered three thousand mobs in less than an hour! Times like these I was glad this was a game, in which I could take farmers and civilians and turn them into hardened warriors simply by recruiting them into the clan and allocating their talents.

"Casualties?" I turned to Elnar as he was pulling up.

"No casualties!" James was exultant. "Uncle Elias and Satrap Gorm will be pleased. Too bad we can't just ride into town now. Thanks to those guys over there," he gestured at Xantarra's defenders on the walls, "the ground is littered with rocks. No way we'll get through on horseback without mangling half our mounts."

 

You have gained a level! Current level: 195.

You have 3 talent points to allocate.

Class bonus: +1 to intellect; +1 to spirit.

You have 9 stat points to allocate.

 

"I reckon the satrap will be fine without us," I said, pulling the helm off my head and taking out the pipe I had prepared beforehand. "Tell the archers and mages to cease fire before they do hit our own. Have them start gathering loot instead."

"You were right, by the way. The skeletal archers never did fire at us," James shook his head in wonder, then turned his horse around and steered it toward the city gates.

As he departed, I bent down slightly and patted the boar on the withers.
And so we're alone again, Gloom,
I thought with a sigh. Hagedia and Reena, my pair of personal healers, had gone off to their men. Reece was off by the gates with his mages. Salta was next to Elnar, and Iam was with his banner. My heart suddenly heavy, I rummaged in my bag for a bottle of moonshine, took three big swigs and followed it up with equally deep drags on my pipe.

Sure, I realized that these demons were all grown up now, with tons of responsibilities and subordinates of their own. There was no turning back time. And yet, somehow I'd felt a lot less lonely back in that Hart-forsaken Ballan than I did today. I sighed again, remembering the people I'd lost, and my mood dove all the way to rock bottom.

Stop whining!
I rebuffed myself.
Everything is bloody fine!
Yet another enemy was defeated, demolished even, and I was one step closer to my goal. What was this goal? To smoke that scumbag Cheney? To find my sister? Did she even need me anymore? She had Max. I recalled my last phone conversation with my aunt, and smiled in spite of myself. I was glad it was Max, and not someone else. Max was a good friend whom I trusted completely. Hell, even when we were kids people often mistook us for brothers, though we looked nothing alike.

No, my main goal was here! All of these lands being ravaged by the undead scourge... This was my home now. And these demons were my family. And there was a shit-ton of work that still needed to be done here. It was settled—after I sorted out the princedom's affairs, I would go up to the upper realm, settle the score with Cheney, and bring Alyona and Max down here. At least then I'd have someone real to talk to, and besides, there was nothing for them up above. I took a few swigs from the flask, and chuckled. Gloom grunted approvingly, sensing the shift in my spirits.
Don't worry, bud,
hopping out of the saddle, I scratched the boar behind the ear,
we'll find you a girl too, several even. Your sows will give birth to lots of piglets, and then all my men will have mounts like you.

Gloom seemed pretty content with that idea. Shoving his moist snout into my neck area, he closed his eyes and puffed blissfully.

"Feeling blue, eh?" Vaessa had walked up to us soundlessly.

The magus was holding her bone horse by the reins; her hounds were resting on the ground a dozen yards away.

A bone horse, unlike other bone creatures, wasn't exactly a horse skeleton. Vaessa's mount more closely resembled a horse that had been skinned alive, with bony hooves and a head that didn't look like a horse's skull in the literal sense. Rather, it was a collection of bones that vaguely replicated a horse's skull, with eye-sockets that glowed a sinister blue color.

"What makes you say that?" shoving Gloom's snout aside, I flashed a mocking grin at the magus.

"Let's not pretend this is Newton's binomial theorem," she smiled. "When the Dark One is cuddling his beast in the middle of the day, it's pretty damn obvious."

"Do you even know what Newton's binomial theorem is?" I snorted.

"No," the magus admitted readily, "but you keep talking about it! And these references of yours are infectious. I imagine it's something sumer-smart and well above my pay grade."

"Truth be told, I don't know what it is, either," I turned around and looked out on the ground carpeted with bones. "I admit, I was in the dumps a few minutes ago."

"Don't worry, dar. You'll pop into a brother tonight, and all will be well," Vaessa chuckled sadly, and looked way. "But not me..."

"Wait, what's wrong with you?"

"You think men are champing at the bit to jump into bed with a necromancer?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" I frowned. "The way you look... I wouldn't hesitate for a second if it weren't for, you know..."

"You are you," the magus smiled, and gazed wistfully at the sun hanging over the valley. "There was this one barbarian, one of the Snow Leopards... but it didn't work out. I wasn't exactly popular before, and now that I'm a head priestess, it's hopeless," Vaessa waved in frustration. "Oh, it's not important, dar. Think nothing of it."

"Don't you go sour on me now," grabbing the woman by the shoulders, I peered into her eyes. "You're with me now, aren't you? Celphata commanded you to follow me everywhere, right? Once we're done here, I'll take you to the higher realm where there are millions of men like me, and no one will give a damn if you're a priestess or a cook. You'll need a retinue of bone dragons just to keep suitors at bay!"

"There are no men like you," Vaessa smiled. "Listen, once you're done letting off steam, come see me in the tower. At least we can get drunk like before. And, by the way, you know you can take some of them with you. Not to my tower, I mean, but in the field. They won't refuse you."

"No," I said with a sigh. "It's not the same. Used to be I could only dream of such an arrangement, but now... There was Dara back in Nittal. A succubus. We had a good time, but here..." I smiled back at her. "I'll be fine on my own."

"Well, you men have it easier," Vaessa laughed. "Anyway, we're on for tonight, yes? Just as soon as you're done. A woman mustn't be left all alone in a big city. It's scary out there."

"I can't begin to imagine anything that might scare you," I grinned. At that moment we heard triumphant cries coming from the direction of the city.

 

The morale of your party has risen by +10 points. Your party's current morale is +41 (a 41% increase to your party members' physical and magic damage).

 

And with that, the threat to Xantarra was eliminated. With a wink to Vaessa, I turned toward the gates. The welcoming committee was already out and heading our way.

Clad in mithril armor and with his helm off, the Xantarrian army's commander looked nothing like the good-natured fellow James and I had shared drinks with in his tent not that long ago. His high forehead furrowed with lines, brows knitted into a stern fold, and lips a thin line of grim resolve, the demon riding toward Vaessa and me was a seasoned warrior accustomed to high command. Stalking alongside him was Zach, the same kid who had escorted us to the satrap's castle the last time around. The young demon was doing his darnedest to maintain the solemnity of the moment, looking straight ahead with a somber expression.

Err, will I need to do some ceremonious bowing and whatnot?
I was starting to panic a little bit, but quickly dismissed all worries. Let them have their spectacle, it didn't bother me none. I'd risen from rags to dars only recently, so they would just have to forgive me.

But even Homer sometimes nods. Having gotten within twenty yards, the legate took a look at Vaessa at my side, and stumbled. The demon's brows crawled upward while his jaw dropped. As for the kid, he stood perfectly still like a pillar of salt, batting his eyes in awe at the enormous bonehounds, whom he must've initially mistaken for piles of bones. To his credit, the legate's dithering lasted mere moments. Recovering quickly, the old soldier rode another ten yards and stopped, bowing his head deeply. After a few seconds he squared his shoulders, and spoke, loudly and sincerely:

"Xantarra and her governor welcome you, Dark One! From this day on, our city owes a debt to you that can never be fully repaid. Satrap Gorm is wounded and thus wasn't able to come out and greet you. But he's expecting you!"

Then, without giving me the chance to respond, the legate dropped to one knee, bowed his head before Vaessa, and continued with equal measure of solemnity.

"Xantarra is delighted to welcome the head priestess of Celphata, the Goddess of Death and Rebirth. All our doors are open before you, mistress. Satrap Gorm would be honored to receive you as his guest."

I grunted with amusement. If this kept up my necromancer friend was bound to get a big head! Then again, she wasn't that kind of demoness.

I looked over to Vaessa... and literally lost the gift of speech. Standing to my side was the Snow Queen herself, right out of the classic tale by Hans Christian Andersen. Flawlessly upright, with lips pressed into a thin line, and the breeze playing with her cloak, black and embroidered with silver. Everything about her screamed royalty. The magus even seemed to have grown taller. No, I wasn't filled with holy trepidation beholding my friend, but her transformation was nonetheless quite stunning. Not knowing what to do next, I looked to her to respond to the kneeling legate.

"I am pleased that the citizens of Xantarra honor my Mistress," she spoke in a soft, soulful voice. "I will visit your city, but, to my great sorrow, I will not be able to see the governor before the troops set out for Suonu. He and I will have to speak later. Should the satrap have any questions, he can seek answers from my commander..."

"But—"

Elias raised his eyes at the woman, but she had apparently decided to dispense with the formalities, and kept on speaking through his objection, now in a normal tone.

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