Chapter 313: Cairn’s Onslaught

 

  The valley tribesman surrounded Stryg and Ismene in a loose circle, careful to not get too close to the terrifying old woman. Vaughn watched her cautiously and kept an eye on her hands for any quick movements.

  “I said stand up, Stryg,” Ismene muttered, though she did not look at him. Her beige eyes stared at Vaughn with a steely edge.

  Stryg glanced at the mutilated bodies of the orc guards who had stood by his side mere seconds ago. He dug his hands into the dirt and clenched his teeth tight in frustration, “I… I couldn’t…”

  “This is no time to wallow in self-pity,” Ismene said. “Right now your friends and family need you.”

  Stryg looked up with a dawning realization, “They’re surrounding the mansion…!”

  “You know what must be done,” Ismene said. “So what will you do?”

  Stryg pushed himself to his feet and bared his fangs at the tribesman around him. “I’ll fight. I will never stop fighting.”

  Ismene’s lips curled into a small smile, “I’ll make an opening for you. Get to our people and keep them safe. I’ll handle the ones here.”

  “And what makes you think I’ll let either of you go–?” Vaughn called out.

  Ismene looked him dead in the eye and shot a storm spell behind her. The lightning branched around Stryg and electrocuted all the warriors at their rear. The valley men and women couldn’t even cry out as their bodies seized up and were burned from the inside out. The other tribesmen screamed as they watched their comrades’ smoking corpses fall to the ground.

  Stryg sprinted away before any of the tribesmen could react.

  Vaughn blinked and licked his lips dryly, “Ah… I see. You’re the fabled Tempest Archmage.”

  “And you’re the bastard who killed my students,” Ismene said icily.

  Vaughn sighed bitterly, “This is really turning out to be more difficult than I had hoped.”

  “Did you think we’d leave the Ebon Aspirant unguarded, unprepared?”

  “Not at all. I just didn’t think I’d be encountering the Aspirant tonight,” Vaughn said lamentingly.

  Her eyes widened, “You’re not here for the boy? Then why are you…?”

  “Who knows?” he said wistfully.

  Blue tendrils of electricity curled up Ismene’s arms. “Your purpose here will not change anything. You are all going to die tonight.”

  “We don’t need to do this. You’re not the only arch-mage here,” Vaughn raised his arms to the sides, “And I am the one with an army.”

  “And I’m the one with a purpose and the will to see it through,” Ismene smiled menacingly, “What more do I need?”

~~~

  The sound of thunder echoed behind Stryg but he did not look back. His eyes were focused on the Katag mansion. Over a hundred of Cairn’s warriors swarmed the mansion from the sides. They shattered the windows and jumped inside with warcries of death.

  He needed to get to his family first.

  Stryg cursed under his breath and channeled orange mana into his legs. The agility magic turned his veins a subtle grey and his body light. He ran through the grassy field and slammed into the front double doors with his shoulders. The hinges tore off the walls from the impact. His shoulder stung but he ignored it. He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the sounds of his family and friends.

  Anything. Anything at all. A whisper, a cry. Anything that could help him know where they were. But all he could hear were the shouts of the enemy and the clashing of steel as they fought the Katag guards.

  Stryg closed his eyes and tried to narrow the sounds. His droopy pointed ears twitched. A familiar voice pierced the sounds of cries and deaths. Her voice was taut with strain and anger.

  Before Stryg realized what he was doing his legs were moving. He dashed through the halls and came across one of the dining rooms. The long dining table had been flipped over and used as a blockade of sorts against the enemy. A group of guards had tried to hold back the horde of tribal warriors, but the enemy had overwhelmed the blockade and swarmed into the room, cutting down guard after guard.

  The few remaining guards stood in the corner, a mound of dead bodies at their feet. Tauri stood at the center with a pair of unfamiliar swords in her hands. She was still in her nightgown, a white silk that was transparent in certain areas. Yet despite her appearance, not a single valley warrior dared step into the range of her flail.

  “Come at, you assholes!” Tauri shouted with a mixture of anger and desperation.

  Stryg knew Tauri favored the flail as her primary weapon. He knew she hadn’t had the time to properly arm herself. And yet as he stepped into the room and saw her cornered with bloodied clothes and the swords in her hands, all he saw was Clypeus.

  Stryg didn’t think. His heartbeat thrummed in his ears, drowning out the sounds of others. He released his agility spell and channeled Yellow’s durability magic. Hardened yellow scales of magic wrapped over his skin. Stryg charged one of the tribesmen from behind and slashed his claws through the man’s back. The grey claws sank through the flesh with ease and sliced through bone and sinew, severing the spine. 

  The warrior died without a single cry, his head simply lolled to the side and he toppled over. His comrades jumped back from shock, but Stryg was already on them. 

  Stryg jumped on a petrified woman and slashed open her stomach before he grabbed another by the shoulders and ripped open his throat. A sword stabbed into Stryg’s back but it bounced off the yellow scales. The blue goblin spun around and grabbed the head of the attacking vampire. The vampire shouted in a panic and tried to pry Stryg’s hands off to no avail.

  With a quick jerk, Stryg snapped the vampire’s head to the side, the neck breaking with a disturbing crack. The Cairn warriors shouted, some in anger, others in panic. Stryg didn’t care. None of it mattered to him. What little sympathy he had learned for others felt distant, a small voice amidst the thundering pain of loss.

  Tauri watched in horror and morbid fascination as Stryg carved through the enemy. Vampire, human, drow, none were spared. His claws slashed through them in a spray of blood as his fangs sank into their throats. Their blades and hammers glanced off his skin with nothing more than scratches.

  The ones who cried for mercy Stryg killed first. The ones who fought he killed second. But the ones who cowered on the ground, piss pooling underneath them, Stryg left for last. He did not use his sharp claws, nor powerful, nor deadly magic. He jumped on top of them and pummeled them to death until their chests had caved and their heads were nothing but mashed viscera blood.

  “He’s just like Lord Krall…” one of the Katag guards muttered.

  “No, he’s not,” Tauri snapped.

  She turned away from the guards and stared thoughtfully at the goblin on his knees, surrounded by mutilated corpses. Amidst the blood and gore on his face, she saw it. Tears stained his cheeks. She saw no rage in his lilac eyes, only pain. 

  “This is my fault,” she whispered. Tauri walked across, careful to not trip over the dead bodies, and knelt next to Stryg. 

  His shoulders heaved with tired breaths.

  “...Stryg…”

  “...They killed him… so I killed them,” he mumbled with a snarl.

  Tauri winced sympathetically, “...I’m sorry, Stryg. We should have never left you and the other students that night.”

  She reached and gently placed her hand on his shoulder, “I know. And you have every right to be angry, to be in pain, to mourn… but right now I need your help to protect the ones still with us. I need your head clear. I need your help, Stryg.”

  He slowly looked up at her and his eyes slowly lit with recognition. “Tauri… You’re okay…?”

  “Of course, I’m okay. Did you think a few savages could kill me?” she winked playfully, though her voice was strained.

  “The others…?” Stryg jumped to his feet, “Where’s my tribe?!”

  “If you’re referring to Feli and Rhian, they’re upstairs with my family. They’ve probably barricaded themselves in my mother’s study.” Tauri looked around the corpses forebodingly, “But if it’s anything like here, they’ll need our help.”

  “We need to move,” Stryg surmised.

  “The sooner the better,” Tauri nodded. She glanced at the few remaining guards, “Stryg and I will go on ahead with our agility spells. Try to find more of our men and rally them to your lord before it’s too late.”

  “Yes, mistress!” the guards shouted in unison.

~~~

  Stryg and Tauri ran through the 2nd-floor corridors, searching for their families, but they found no one save the dead bodies of guards and valley warriors alike. 

  As they headed for the third floor Elena suddenly appeared, rushing down the stairs.

  “Elena!?” Tauri cried happily.

  “Sister!” Elena jumped into her sister’s arms and tried to pull her away.

  “What happened? Where are the others? Where are you going?” Tauri asked breathlessly.

  “We have to leave! Dad’s lost it again!” Elena yelled fearfully.

  “Oh no…” Tauri’s face paled. “We’re too late.”

  Stryg frowned, “What do you mean Lord Krall has lost it–?”

  Angry, guttural laughter echoed from upstairs.

  “What was that?” Stryg glanced around cautiously.

  “A berserker who’s lost control,” Tauri said grimly.