Ogre Tyrant: Chapter 19 - To be determined - Part Two {Rewrite}

 

When the Deep Orcs saw the human soldiers headed towards them, they didn’t run as I had expected they would. Instead, champions broke from their ranks and charged at the soldiers.

 

For all their eagerness, the soldiers weren’t stupid. They formed ranks and collectively met the charging Deep Orcs with a densely packed wall of spears and shields.

 

Seemingly obsessed with making contact with the soldiers, the Deep Orcs threw down their axes and tried scrambling over the improvised wall.

 

However, the soldiers weren’t going to allow it. Sporadic volleys of arrows began peppering the Deep Orc champions from the flanks, the shield wall ensuring that the archers' allies were not caught in the crossfire. The majority of shots ricocheted off the Deep Orcs’ heavy armour, but every so often, an archer would get lucky and sneak an arrow through the gaps in the iron plates.

 

The footsoldiers' weren’t just maintaining the shield wall either. Through active coordination, they slowly drew the champions away from their own fire support and isolated them, allowing the archers to return fire against the would-be skirmishers with impunity, while the spearmen worried the champions down.

 

Despite their losses, the Deep Orc crossbowmen didn’t flee and kept fighting. Even with just one crossbowman left standing, he or she, stood defiantly against the withering hail of arrows, loading and firing their crossbow with dogged determination. Their defiance didn’t last and an arrow caught the Deep Orc in the neck as they prepared to fire their next bolt.

 

After the last Deep Orc fell, the soldiers swept over the battlefield and finished them off with brutal efficiency, although for some reason, the Deep Orc champions were being given a wide berth. With the quest completed, the soldiers were awarded Exp based upon their contributions to the fight and their immediate area lit up like the sun as most if not all of them levelled up simultaneously.

 

Not quite sure what I had expected, I was still surprised when the soldiers doused the Deep orc champion bodies with oil and set them on fire.

 

Wraithe and the other Daemons who had come to reinforce the gate quickly made themselves scarce as The familiar forms of Cpt. Klive, Lt. Felix and his lower-ranked shadows began approaching the gate. Hana had made her way over at this point as well, but shied back into the ranks of the Serpent-Kin volunteers and cowled herself in a drab but sturdy-looking cloak that looked like it was purchased from the incarcerated vendor.

 

Motioning for the guards to open a space through the gate, I cautiously passed through the gate and waited for the humans to approach.

 

Unsurprisingly, Lash and four other Deep Orcs I did not recognise followed behind me.

 

In stark contrast to their lower-ranked officers and soldiers, Cpt. Klive and Lt. Felix looked unstrained by the battle that had taken place twenty or so minutes earlier.

 

“Chieftain Tim!” Cpt. Klive called out good-naturedly as they closed the remaining distance, “I cannot express how truly grateful I am that you shared such a bounty with me and my men!”

 

I nodded, unwilling to correct the man when he so willingly left himself in my debt.

 

“Although, the presence of the Ghouls was a real surprise. I had not read any reports of undead on this floor of the Hurst Labyrinth,” Cpt. Klive ruminated thoughtfully.

 

“Ghouls?” I asked without meaning to. Hearing the word, images of flesh-eating zombies came to mind but did not seem to fit what I had seen of the battle.

 

Cpt. Klive nodded, his expression suddenly quite serious, “They are a type of undead monster that spreads through a special Curse. The Curse of the Ghoul is carried in its bite. Anyone bitten by a Ghoul receives the Curse and will slowly transform into a Ghoul over time, or at midnight if they die from other means.” He waved back over to the burning corpses with a dour expression, “Burning the bodies, dispelling the Curse or burying them in consecrated ground are the only known ways to stop those already Cursed from reanimating as Ghouls.”

 

I didn’t like the sound of that at all. “What about Beasts?” I asked warily. I had seen enough zombie movies to not rule out the possibility of a zombified Beast hoard.

 

Lt. Felix politely shook his head, “Thankfully, the Ghoul Curse is limited to humans and..erm..human-like monsters...” He seemed uncomfortable with and unsure of his choice of words.

 

I simply nodded and returned my attention to Cpt. Klive to better set his mind at ease, “How is the Ghoul curse broken? And how do you create consecrated ground?” I asked pointedly. The last thing I wanted was to put down any one of my citizens unfortunate enough to be ‘infected’ while hunting to provide food for our community.

 

Cpt. Klive was silent for a moment and seemed to be thinking something over with great intensity. “There are Curse breaking potions and other magical items available in the Hurst marketplace. But they are incredibly expensive and vary wildly in cost depending on the strength of the dispelling effect. I have heard, from reliable sources, mind you, that the Ghoul’s Curse can be broken by ingesting raw garlic and silver, but never seen it done first hand. As for consecrated ground...” He shifted uncomfortably, “Only a grand speaker of the gods has been known to perform such a miracle. Hurst itself has a holy cathedral with sanctified grounds that ward against the undead. Unfortunately, such means are beyond us I am afraid.”

 

I nodded in understanding and made a mental note to radically increase garlic production. “I want silver as part of your first payment for the foundations of the fortification,” I demanded bluntly.

 

“I will make sure of it,” Cpt. Klive agreed earnestly, “Ah, on the subject-”

 

“It will be ready by sundown,” I promised, “Assuming we have the privacy to complete it.”

 

Cpt. Klive smirked a little and nodded, “Aye, and I will make sure you get it. But there was something else...” He glanced briefly yet pointedly at my hand, “Can I assume you have access to advanced healing of some kind?”

 

I was heavily inclined to plead ignorance or reference my own healing ability. However, recalling my earlier conversation with Gric, I would be remiss to overlook the opportunity the captain’s request presented. The problem was in telling a convincing enough lie to minimise the risk to Sanctuary.

 

Not for the first time in my life, I briefly regretted not being a proficient liar.

 

“Perhaps...” I agreed, trying to sound cryptic and mysterious, thankful that at least the helmet hid my face. “A strange wandering merchant visited my Settlement many moons ago, with all manner of exotic items for sale. He would only accept coins for his wares, and we had few enough to spend...”

 

Cpt. Klive and Lt. Felix nodded appreciatively and the former motioned for me to continue.

 

“I purchased a small bottle, a potion, the merchant called it. He claimed it would heal any lesser wound, and I suppose it has,” I clenched and unclenched my previously wounded hand. “But I bought something else as well. A Summoning scroll. The merchant claimed it could Summon a spirit to tend and heal injuries for a certain length of time before it would disappear.”

 

Now, this had Cpt. Klive’s utmost attention, “This scroll,” he gulped dryly, “Do you still have it?” Even though Cpt. Klive was trying to downplay his interest, I could see the sudden intense desire to possess the fictitious scroll, taking hold in his eyes.

 

I nodded, “I do,” I lied, wondering how long exactly it would take Gric to manufacture the scroll.

 

“Name your price!” Cpt. Klive insisted suddenly, “I have a duty to the soldiers under my command! As I am sure you can see, some of them are in pressing need of medical aid!”

 

He wasn’t lying, some soldiers did look like they were in dire need of medical attention. The soldiers armour had not fared particularly well against the Deep Orcs crossbows at such short range.

 

“You can have it in exchange for a favour,” I replied. I honestly had no idea how much to ask for. Objectively, the ability to call a Surgeon with a Daemons MP was bound to be expensive in and of itself. Add onto that, the fact that anyone in the vicinity would be unlocking the Summoner Class and quite possibly Pact Binder and Warlock as well, and the item was bound to be insanely expensive.

 

With that in mind, I preferred the idea of Cpt. Klive owing me a commensurately sizeable favour. While I doubted it would persuade him to commit treason, I hoped it would prove sufficient to warrant special assistance in regards to Sanctuary and other Settlements that might be established down the line.

 

“Done!” Cpt. Klive agreed. “You are proving a most valuable ally to his majesty, and I will do my utmost to shield your people from...undesirable interests.”

 

I leaned in closer to Lash, “Could you take two of your men and go to Gric? Tell him I want the scroll that summons the healer.”

 

Lash nodded her head slightly and motioned to a pair of our accompanying guards, “Follow me,” she commanded and headed back through the gate.

 

The human officers seemed to collectively breathe a little easier with her absence.

 

“Sir?” Lt. Felix gave his superior officer a somewhat pleading look.

 

Cpt Klive coughed lightly and gave Lt. Felix a terse nod, “My junior officer and I were hoping that perhaps you could help explain why the Cursed Orcs were attacking your Settlement?” It was a fair enough question, particularly since by all accounts the battle was more dangerous than it had first seemed.

 

“A civil war, I think. The Deep Orcs of at least one clan had sworn to serve someone known as the ‘Bright Lord’. Or so the refugees have told me,” I explained while trying to keep my own people's involvement ambiguous.

 

Cpt. Klive did not seem to like the sound of that at all.

 

“You think this chieftain, or ‘Bright Lord’ is responsible for the attack on the adventurers Guild Foothold?” Lt. Felix whispered a touch louder than he should have.

 

Cpt. Klive winced a little, glanced at me and nodded somewhat reluctantly.

 

“I have human friends returning from the human Settlement across the river,” I stated, trying to both set the Captain at ease as well as establish the fact that I was expecting the expeditionary group to return within the next few days.

 

“You have existing dealings with humans?” Cpt. Klive asked curiously.

 

“I do,” I agreed, “They are friends to my people and they are always welcome in my home.” I hoped the Captain would remember that. Firstly, so he would be reminded that there were others who enjoyed my special attention, but also so he knew I would reciprocate kindness. After all, our alliance would only hold value if we could maintain it long term.

 

Thinking of the expeditionary group had me worried, all the more so with the Cursed Deep Orcs running around.

 

“Then we will make sure to treat them in kind,” Cpt. Klive insisted, “I want you to know that we are fully committed to an ongoing and mutually beneficial relationship.”

 

The less stern of Lt. Felix’s subordinates turned to his companion, “Do you think the adventurers from the foothold would be with them as well then?” He asked quietly.

 

The gruff one, made a point of clearing his throat and faintly gesturing in the direction of their superiors with a warning look.

 

“What about the merchants? What are we supposed to do if they come looking for help?” He asked, apparently still not having taken the hint.

 

Lt. Felix gave both his men an intense glare that brought the questions to a halt, for a few moments at least.

 

Cpt. Klive worked his jaw for a few seconds as if chewing a particularly tough strip of leather. “My subordinate has raised an important issue. There is a chance that refugees from my kingdom will be accompanying or following the friends of your people. I have an obligation under oath to the crown to provide shelter and safety for loyal citizens in need during wartime.” The captain's statement left an unspoken question lingering between us.

 

What did I want him to do if adventurer refugees followed my expedition party?

 

I scowled a little, as I recalled how coldblooded the Guild manager had been when imprisoning Toofy and renewing my enslavement. As a reactionary and entirely emotionally fuelled decision, I briefly entertained demanding the captain throw the adventurers back out into the swamp.

 

However, after taking a few moments to calm myself and think it over, I realised that such a vindictive act would not achieve the effects I wanted. In all likelihood, the adventurers would form an unregulated refugee camp in the vicinity of either Sanctuary or the army base. With no one curtailing their behaviour, it wasn’t much of a stretch to think that the adventurers would begin predating on all monsters in the vicinity.

 

It would only be a matter of time before one of my people was attacked and the captain would be forced to uphold his end of our bargain. Such an early strain on our partnership would have long-lasting consequences too...

 

“You will take them in,” I muttered irritably, “So long as they abide by our agreement, you can provide them shelter. However, should any of them bring harm to my people-”

 

“Then I will do as we have agreed!” Cpt. Klive interjected solemnly, “I have recently read reports of your brief stay on the first floor of the Labyrinth, and I just wanted to let you know that I will not abide the kidnapping and enslavement of children, of any species, while I continue to draw breath.”

 

I couldn’t help but stare at the captain in surprise.

 

How much did he know? Was this his way of calling out my lie regarding the scroll?

 

“Rescuing your child like that...” Cpt. Klive’s expression shifted to one of immense respect, “Few would endure Slavery to save a child. Fewer still would help defend those who stole them in order to press both into service...” The captain winced a little as he spoke the last, but he quickly rallied. “I do have one question, if you will indulge my curiosity?”

 

I said nothing in reply, but nodded my head slightly as a show of agreement that he could continue.

 

“Why didn’t you turn on them when you had the chance?” Cpt. Klive asked, a faint incredulity in his tone. “After what they did and the weakened state they were left in...there would have been nothing and no one that could have stopped you. So why did you let them live?”

 

There were many different answers to that question. I didn’t doubt for a moment that each of the girls would provide a different one as well, if they were ever asked. However, besides my previous avoidance of violence, there was one reason in particular that stood out above the others.

 

“I let them live, so I could live,” I replied gruffly, “If I killed any of them for what they did, I would have to kill all of them. And if I did that, I would need to keep on killing for the rest of my life as those seeking vengeance of their own or, on behalf of others, would track me down and force my hand into conflict.”

 

Cpt. Klive looked surprised for a moment, then slowly nodded in understanding. “With the unpleasantness of earlier...I will admit that I had a hard time reconciling your behaviour. But I think I understand now, thank you.”

 

I shrugged noncommittally. I sincerely doubted he understood much of anything really. If anything, the captain had probably come to some rather poor assumptions. A lot had changed since my original enslavement.

Not least of which was my stance on violence...

 

We stood in silence for a short while until Lash returned with the scroll in hand.

 

The scroll looked far better than I had honestly expected it would. Near as I could tell, Gric had apparently bought some leather garment, perhaps a pair of leather pants, and removed one pant leg to use as the writing surface. Having cut away the stitches, the frayed and marked edges actually gave it a sort of aged look that seemed appropriate. A short tongue of leather had been stitched to the bottom and served as both an improvised binding to keep the scroll sealed, but also held the manastone in a sealed pocket. Even though I could not see the writing inside, some of the angular sigils of the Daemon language were written on the leather strap binding the scroll. In spite of telling me he would use blood, It looked like Gric had burned the letters into the leather.

 

Lash handed me the scroll and then I handled it off to the captain who nearly tripped over himself in his haste to accept it.

 

“I will not forget this kindness, “ Cpt. Klive insisted, his attention nearly entirely focused upon the scroll now in his hands.

 

For a moment, I felt like I had a greater appreciation for natives making peaceful contact with colonial powers, and I didn’t like it. It was an uncomfortably poignant analogy for the events that had just transpired. Even though the captain had yet to give me a reason to doubt him, I was far too aware of Earth’s own history to naively believe that our relationship would remain in my favour without taking precautions to keep it that way. On the upside, I now felt markedly less guilty about releasing Daemon spies into their midst.

 

Now that they had the scroll, Cpt. Klive, Lt. Felix and the two lower-ranked officers begged their leave under the pretence of seeing to their wounded.

 

More than happy to see them gone, I let them go without complaint.

 

Retreating back through Sanctuary’s gate, I motioned for Hana to come out from hiding.

 

“Why are they setting fires?” Hana called out irritably, a hint of anger in her voice.

 

“The soldiers seemed convinced that some of the Deep Orcs that attacked the gate were some form of undead,” I explained, unable to keep a hint of scepticism from my tone, Hana seemed unconvinced.

 

“Undead? Hrmph! I will handle this!” Hana hissed angrily and cloaked herself in emerald mana.

 

Looking through the gate, I watched roots emerge from the ground beside and beneath the burning corpses. After waving back and forth for a moment, the roots suddenly angled their ends towards the corpses and viciously speared them straight through. Far from finished, the roots dug through the bodies like giant worms, ripping and tearing them apart. With the Deep Orcs bodies now thoroughly destroyed, smaller roots enveloped the remaining pieces and dragged them down into the ground.

 

“There!” Hana growled, “No need for...” She seemed at a loss for words, “That!”

 

“Hana...” I opened my arms wide and awkwardly offered her a hug. Much to my surprise, she accepted.

 

Hana leaned into me and seemed content to just have me hold her for a while. She didn’t cry or whimper, she hardly even made a sound. Glancing at Lash, I half expected her to be angry or annoyed.

 

On the contrary, judging by her relaxed posture and the deliberate distance she was giving me and Hana, Lash didn’t seem to mind at all.

 

I guess I had just been an idiot to assume she would behave like a jealous teenager on some daytime soap opera. I made a mental note to try and think of something to make it up to Lash later.

 

A short while later, Hana began to pull away and I let her go. “Thanks Tim,” she gave me a small yet tired smile, “I...I didn’t expect it to affect me like that...”

 

I nodded in understanding, “It’s alright. You should take a rest, let Qreet and the other Daemons handle the rest of the work for today,” I insisted.

 

Hana looked like she was going to argue, but then she deflated a little and nodded, suddenly seeming quite tired, “Alright, thanks again Tim,” Hana gave me a half-wave as she left towards the Grove.

 

I waved awkwardly back, but she had already turned around and wouldn’t have seen it.

 

“Should I call for the Daemons and organise guards for them?” Lash asked diligently.

 

I shook my head, “No need to risk it. Better to just have Asra summon copies of them instead.”

 

“Alright,” Lash agreed and walked over to one of the nearby guards to pass along the command and find Asra.

 

“Lord!” Wraithe came loping over from her hiding place behind one of the barrow mounds, “It is happening! The humans just finalised the Summons!”

 

Surprised Wraithe was in the loop on Gric’s scheme, it took me a moment to realise that she actually wasn’t. Gric had simply chosen Wraithe as the Daemon that would be summoned by the scroll since she possessed the healing class abilities they wanted, and as the summoned creature in question, Wraithe apparently knew who was doing the summoning.

 

“That’s good,” I congratulated her, “Just make sure to speak with Gric sometime soon alright? In fact, make sure all the other Daemons do too.”

 

Wraithe grinned and bowed energetically, “Of course Lord!” She happily reached towards the closest Daemons to spread the word, which unfortunately was Qreet and the other Druids. Thankfully, the four of them looked to me for confirmation before heading over to the Grove, so I was able to intercept them and explain the situation with Hana first.

 

Only too eager to have more work to do, the four Daemons began avidly discussing the best distribution of labour in order to get the grounds ready for occupation by the army.

 

With Hana’s Wood Wyrd and the Deep Orc guards keeping a careful watch on the gate, I wasn’t nearly as worried as I had been earlier upon learning of the attack. However, something would have to be done about the mine shaft and tunnels below.

 

Taking note of the gold-coloured Status Alerts signifying Exp from healing related sources, I motioned for Lash to follow me and headed off towards the mineshaft. We descended down the mine-shaft together along with five of the other Deep Orcs.

 

If the enemy clan of Deep Orcs were going to continue being a problem, then we would need some way of differentiating our forces. I was about to ask Lash what sort of accessory would be best when my attention suddenly shifted as I felt a disturbance in Sanctuary’s barrier.

 

“Trespassers!” Lash growled angrily, her head swivelling to face the north.

 

There was another disturbance, and then another.

 

“HAVE ASRA SUMMON THE DAEMONS AND FORTIFY THE ENTRANCE!” I commanded while seizing the axe from one of our entourage and then continued down the mineshaft. If I had learned anything from fending off the waves of enemies in the cavern with the dungeon, hemming in the enemy was a significant advantage and had to be ensured early.

 

Entering the cavern below, I rushed towards the northern tunnel. Hearing Lash was right behind me, I was tempted to order her to retreat, but I quickly thought better of it. Of the two of us, Lash was far better at establishing and holding a defensive position.

 

By the time we reached the tunnel at the northern end of the cavern, there were already sounds of the invaders quickly approaching our location.

 

Making a mental note to have the Deep Orcs make me a more durable shield of iron or perhaps steel, I gave my borrowed axe a few practice swings. More like a long-handled hatchet or a fire axe, the Deep Orcs used their axes almost exclusively one-handed while shoving or manoeuvring their opponents with their free hand.

 

Even though the weapon was heavily weighted down the far end, it was completely different to what I was used to. I tried copying some basic chopping motions I had seen Lash and the others use during training, but I met with minimal success. It left me with little confidence in using the weapon, and I seriously considered just handing it off to Lash.

 

However, I didn’t have much time to come to a decision, the invaders were not far now and were closing fast. But something felt off...The invaders were far quieter than I had expected them to be. Deep Orc armour was not stealthy. Even at rest, Lash’s armour was scraping and rattling with every minor movement she made.

 

As the first invader came into view, it quickly made sense. The invaders weren’t Deep Orcs, they were Serpent-Kin.

 

*Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip, Thwip”

 

I held up my left arm to shield the gap in my helmet and saw Lash move to do the same. The volley of arrows shattered against her breastplate and my chest.

 

Glancing down at the fallen arrows, I was surprised to find they had worked stone arrowheads, not iron or even a softer and more common metal like copper.

 

“WHO ARE YOU?!” I roared in defiance, “DECLARE YOURSELVES AND WHO YOU SERVE!” I hoped that this was all a big misunderstanding, and that the attacking Serpent-Kin were just another group of panicked refugees.

 

“WE SSERVE THE BRIGHT LORD!” A commanding voice called back from down the tunnel, “AND HE WILL PERMIT NO RIVALSS! KILL THEM!!”

 

Another volley of arrows flew down the tunnel to as little effect as the first, only now there was the sound of stampeding footsteps behind them.

 

Lowering my arm, I could see a press of gaunt men and women rushing towards us, primitive stone weapons clutched tight at their sides.

 

“Hearthguard!” Lash growled and a faint amethyst light shimmered across my body and weapon.

 

With so many of their allies in the way, the archers no longer had a clear line of fire and were forced to wait for an opportunity to present itself. Even though the arrows had proven ineffective thus far, I was still glad we established the chokepoint early. But with just the two of us, it wouldn’t take long for the invaders to begin slipping past.

 

Just as the first wave of invaders were about to come within reach, Lash leapt forward defiantly, “BASTION!” An ephemeral globe of amethyst mana pulsed outwards from her body smashed the invaders backwards like a tidal wave, grinding those caught between it and the stone walls or floor into a grisly mangled paste of bloody flesh and splintered bones.

 

Those not killed by the attack had been driven back into the next wave of their allies, and Lash set into them like a true demon, her axe keening through the air before cleaving through the invaders' exposed bodies. “BASTION!” Lash roared again, sending a second pulse of amethyst crashing through the invaders ranks in the wake of the first.

 

“YES! FORWARD!” I cried, gladly expending the MP to activate Warcry and join the battle alongside Lash. Though nowhere near as skilled with the axe as she was, it hardly mattered. A glancing blow sheared through a Serpent-Kin’s weapon and chest, cleaving through flesh and bone like they were nothing but sodden tissue paper. We were butchers and the invaders were but lambs fit only to be slaughtered.

 

“BASTION!” A third pulse of amethyst light ground another wave of invaders to paste as we pressed forward towards their leader.

 

In spite of our overwhelming advantage, the Serpent-Kin invaders had made no signs of intending to retreat. Something wasn’t right, I could feel it. We were falling into a trap of some kind.

 

“Lash! Pull back!” I ordered, grabbing her arm and bodily dragging her back a ways down the tunnel.

 

“AHAHAHA! TOO LATE!” The same voice from earlier cackled triumphantly, “CORPSSE EXPLOSSION!!!”

 

*BANG*

 

We were sent crashing down the tunnel as if fired from a rifle, scraping and bumping along the walls before flying clear and into the larger cavern.

 

Deafened and barely conscious, I somehow managed to stagger to my feet in spite of the pain radiating from every nerve in my body. Heavily concussed, I was vaguely aware of blood running from my nose, ears and eyes. The wet blood on my burning skin felt like a healing balm compared to the heat radiating from my battered body.

 

“Lash...” I gasped and searched for her while the cavern spun around me. “Lash!” I repeated, dribbling blood and spittle down my front as I searched for her amidst the clouds of smoke and debris. The dizzying effects of my concussion made it impossible to read my group status, but I took what comfort I could in the knowledge that I had seen no signs of a black Status Alert.

 

Knowing enemies could be upon us at any moment, I resorted to fumbling about on hands and knees to find Lash. By some miracle, my all but nerve deadened hands found the dented ridge of what I assumed was her breastplate. Wrapping my arm around her chest, I awkwardly tried to rise to my feet. “Lash!” I repeated desperately, unsure if she could even hear me but driven to make the effort all the same, “We...need...to...leave!” I gasped, struggling to breathe as fluid began pooling in my right lung.

 

Hearing no reply, I staggered towards the mine-shaft, relying on my intuitive and absolute sense of direction to guide my steps as I dazedly formed the structure of the quest in my mind.

 

Something struck the back of my left shoulder, but I ignored it and doggedly continued forward. Something else struck the small of my back a few moments later, and then came another and another.

 

Already fatigued beyond reason, I spared no attention to anything besides the sensation of Lash in my arms and the increased difficulty of drawing each new breath that came after the next.

 

“Done...” I gasped breathlessly and issued the quest.

 

I could vaguely feel movement nearby, the muted cries of unrecognisable voices... But above all else, I felt the thundering of my blood crashing through my veins as my body dumped as much adrenaline as it could into my bloodstream in a vain attempt at staving off my inevitable asphyxiation.

 

One more second...Ten? What difference would it make? It didn’t seem to matter, my body refused to die, fighting for every second it could get.

 

A familiar and pervading chill began to spread from the depths of my stomach, a dark and desperate need.

 

“No...” I let Lash go and unsteadily tried to stagger back the way I had come. I had to get away...I had to get as far away from Lash as possible before...before...be...fore...

 

A sudden pain erupted in my chest and I hacked up bloody gobs into my badly battered helmet. Unable to think clearly, I hooked my fingers into the visor slit at either side and tore the helmet apart like wet newspaper. Finally free to breathe, I desperately gulped down fresh air, the accompanying pain a feeling of such sweet agony.

 

Something struck me in the stomach, accomplishing nothing more than reminding me of my hunger.

 

“Feed...” I grasped blindly into the darkness and by pure chance managed to take hold of something warm and firm. Tightening my grip, I felt something give way and dragged the contents of my hand towards my mouth, “FEED!” I repeated, my teeth biting down hard and shearing through flesh and bone. Blood splashed freely against my face and I revelled in it, gulping down my prize with relish. “FEED ME!” I roared and leaned in for another bite.

 

*****

 

Ril had received the emergency quest, just as everyone else had. However, unlike most, she was aware of the true danger that now lay beneath their feet.

 

Following along behind Mama, Ril found Tim’s minions milling about the entrance to the underground tunnels. It took her only a moment to realise that either they or the cavern below must have suffered a collapse. To their credit, the minions had adapted and were preparing to rappel down the vertical shaft instead. However, Ril could not allow it.

 

“STOP!” Like a knife cutting through tender meat, Ril’s commanding tone brought a near-immediate halt to all activity. Climbing up to stand atop the shoulder of a nearby Daemon, Ril scanned the crowd and found who she was looking for. “DAR, COME HERE!” Ril demanded, her tone making it clear she would brook no argument.

 

To his credit, although incredibly dim by the standards of his hatchmates, Dar knew the hierarchy and obeyed without question, quickly moving through the crowd and presenting himself to Ril and awaiting orders.

 

“ASRA! COME HERE!” Ril demanded again, searching for signs of Mama’s friend.

 

A few precious moments passed by before Asra was found and delivered to her as requested.

 

“Copy all Daemons, but not Dar,” Ril commanded decisively, “Send them into the hole.”

 

Asra gulped hard and nodded. He promptly began scattering manastones onto the ground and calling the true names of every Daemon except for herself and Dar. The Daemons in turn began their descent down into the cavern below, all except Gric.

 

“I will retrieve the Mistress,” Gric’s copy quickly explained before leaping down into the hole.

 

Ril nodded to herself and migrated over to Dar’s impressive shoulders to take the next step of her plan. As she expected, Mama tagged along as well, as much out of protective instinct as her knack for finding trouble.

 

Ril ignored the slew of death notifications as Daemon’s copies were promptly executed. Less than a quarter of the strength of the originals, it was to be expected. After all, Tim was incredibly powerful and Gric was almost certainly using the others as expendable meatshields while trying to find and retrieve Tim’s Bonded Mate Lash.

 

This was why Ril needed Dar intact and his essence undiluted. Should Tim begin trying to climb out of the cavern before regaining his senses, Dar was the closest contender, pound for pound, to go toe to toe with Tim and buy enough time for Ril’s plan to succeed without resorting to otherwise avoidable sacrifices.

 

Gric, the original, arrived on the scene, “I have found the Mistress, Asra, another wave! I will need assistance! I am afraid the Lord has seen her too!”

 

Asra summoned a fresh wave of Daemons, including Gric, only this time the twins descended into the pit together.

 

Ril nodded in understanding. Things were likely far worse than she had originally anticipated. The near-immediate barrage of status alerts confirmed Ril’s fears and she motioned Dar into action, “Into the pit!” She commanded, “Then carry us along the ceiling!”

 

Dar eagerly obeyed, bounding forward and freefalling down the pit. At the last possible moment, he anchored his mighty hooked talons into the wall of the pit and swung himself toward the cavern ceiling.

 

Using her own hooked claws to hold herself secure on Dar’s back, Ril used her tail to hold onto Mama, who lacked the deadly claws necessary to hold on by herself.

 

The cavern was in chaos. Large chunks of the ceiling had collapsed and blocked the other passage up to the surface. A vicious melee was taking place near the blocked passage and Tim was at its centre. Daemon or Serpent-Kin, friend or foe, it didn’t matter, he was beyond such things, fully succumbed to both his mana addiction and hunger.

 

With such raw strength and durability, none of the combatants had any real chance of doing lasting damage. This was good, since Ril planned on retrieving Tim intact.

 

Noticing the pair of Grics scaling the ceiling ahead of them, Ril pointed them out and motioned for Dar to follow. Should Gric need it, they would move in to help. Even though Gric was indeed powerful, his Strength was not nearly up to the level required to fight Tim head-on.

 

Close to the blockage, the pair of Grics dropped from the ceiling, the first immediately scrambling to retrieve what had to be Lash from beneath a pile of loose rubble, while the second skittishly circled their perimeter. It was a good thing too, because Tim had just finished gorging on his latest opponent and caught sight of the Gric’s.

 

“FEED ME!” Tim roared and charged the second Gric with blood matted hands hungrily reaching towards him.

 

To his credit, Gric did his duty and didn’t hesitate in rushing to engage. Nimbly ducking past Tim just slow enough to keep his Lord’s attention, Gric’s copy began a desperate game of cat and mouse, slowly but surely luring Tim away while the original worked at freeing Lash.

 

“Take us there!” Ril demanded, pointing to the original Gric.

 

Dar grunted in acknowledgment and began weaving his way across the ceiling with deceptive nimbleness before dropping to the ground.

 

“Free her!” Ril pointed to Lash and began gathering her mana. She had been practising for a good portion of the day already, but her plan was still incredibly risky.

 

“Over here!” Qreet’s copy shouted from somewhere out of sight, “Over h-”

 

*Crunch*

 

Ril ignored the death notification and maintained her concentration.

 

“The mistress is free!” Gric hissed quietly and heaved her over one shoulder.

 

Focusing on the empty ground in front of her, Ril forced her mana to shape and for the portal already envisioned in her mind. Slowly at first, but faster as Ril willed more mana towards it, a reflection of the Grove came steadily into focus.

 

“Go,” Ril insisted and motioned for Gric to leave.

 

Obedient to a fault, Gric immediately sprang through the portal.

 

With immense satisfaction, Ril watched as the pair of them reappeared a few feet from the portal.

 

“Fee-” the sudden cry came from just beside them but was cut off and Dar lurched and instinctively slammed one of his heavily overdeveloped arms towards the noise without stopping to think of the consequences, and very likely saving their lives in the process.

 

Sent reeling by Dar’s blow, Ril had already collapsed the portal and begun working on another.

 

Relying entirely on Mama and Dar for her protection, Ril devoted her entire being to focusing on the exact location of her next portal.

 

“Protect Baby!” Toofy shrieked and threw a rock as she dragged Ril back and away from the melee, “Keep Tim away!”

 

Dar grunted and roared in affirmation, pounding his chest and squaring up against his Lord.

 

Tim wasted no time on ceremony, launching himself towards Dar with the reckless abandon only the insane or truly immortal were capable of.

 

Dar lashed out just as he had done before, only to be surprised as Tim deliberately caught the blow on his chest and pinned Dar’s arm long enough to bite a chunk out of it.

 

Bellowing in pain and fury, Dar backhanded Tim with his spiked knuckles, raking four vicious cuts across Tim’s throat.

 

Bleeding for only a moment, the cuts quickly healed and left behind pale scars in their wake.

 

“MORE!” Tim roared and charged again.

 

Dar was healing quickly too, a minor but essential trait all the Daemons had harvested from the Hydra. But it wasn’t quick enough. Otherwise forced onto the defensive while the large bite-sized chunk of muscle was regrown in his right arm, Dar raked his talons at Tim’s thighs and knees, hoping to slow or immobilise him.

 

Tim took a brutal strike to the right knee and Dar tore off his kneecap and severed the connecting tendons. Unfortunately, Tim continued lurching forward and managed to grab hold of Dar’s shoulders. He then dragged the both of them together and bit deep into Dar’s already injured arm as he desperately moved to protect his jugular and neck.

 

More or less now holding Tim at bay exactly as Ril wanted, Dar dutifully maintained the grapple without complaint.

 

With the portal finally ready, Ril focused on the ground behind Dar and focused intensely upon bringing it into being. With her entire focus otherwise devoted to the task at hand, Ril willed a short burst of primitive Daemonic telepathy towards Dar. <Portal appears. Hold grapple. Go into portal. Hold Grapple. Hold until unable to.>

 

A similar burst of telepathy returned from Dar almost immediately, the message saturated with pain and the unique sensation of his arm being chewed upon as he was eaten alive. <Dar hold.>

 

This was why Dar was Ril’s favourite Daemon. With none of Gric’s guile, or Qreet’s pride, Dar was content to obey and await new orders, his singular ambition to grow stronger only so he could better serve. Tim would reward Dar for this, Ril would make sure of it, even if she had to convince Mama to help too.

 

Depleting her available mana nearly by half, Ril willed her second portal into being. Almost immediately, water began gushing out the portal. Hardly surprising given the destination, Ril honed her concentration to a razor's edge. <Now!>

 

Dar threw himself backwards into the portal without a second thought, his right arm both guarding his neck and lodged in Tim’s gnashing maw, while his left arm anchored around Tim’s back. The both of them fell into the water just below the foot of the portal, but Dar didn’t let go and they both began to sink.

 

Dispelling the portal, Ril hoped Hana and the Druids would be up to the task of restraining Tim if Dar passed out from blood loss before Tim succumbed to asphyxiation.

 

Requiring far less detail for her next portal, Ril was still somewhat worried by the appearance of the approaching Serpent-Kin. Climbing up higher on the collapsed rocks, Ril was even more worried by the lack of fresh reinforcements. Assuming Asra had succumbed to mana exhaustion, Ril decided that her plan was still reasonably viable.

 

Concentrating only the minimum amount necessary to picture the location in her mind, Ril scanned the gathering crowd of invaders for their leader. Spotting an individual with exaggerated serpentine features, she knew that she had found her target. “Him,” Ril nodded her head towards the leader.

 

Mama nodded, a special spiked rock made from clay and bones materialising in one hand and her sling in the other. “Toofy kill for hurting Tim!” Mama snarled viciously and loaded the spiked ball into the sling.

 

“Pathetic!” The invaders leader hissed mockingly, “You are only delaying the inevitable you know? Why not abandon thosse weaklingss and sserve a power worthy of the title?!”

 

Ril sneered contemptuously at the Evolved Serpent-Kin in disgust, “I see nothing worthy in you or your master!” She spat.

 

The Evolved Serpent-Kin leader hissed angrily and began gathering mana for a spell.

 

“Now Mama!” Ril cried and formed a particularly large portal, easily three times the size of the others, slightly lower on the collapsed rocks.

 

*Whap*

 

The spiked ball caught the leader in the face, not only breaking his concentration, but causing no small amount of pain as he foolishly tore the barbed bones of the ball from his cheek.

 

“YOU WILL PAY FOR THISS! YOU WILL-” The leader suddenly stopped and staggered backwards in surprise as hundreds of gallons of water began blasting out of the portal and flooding the floor. Before he could react, the irate form of a Swamp Lurker came crashing out of the portal and barrelled into a trio of his minions that had been valiantly trying to resist the unrelenting torrents of water.

 

Content that the invaders would be otherwise dealt with, Ril guided Mama higher up the obstruction and continued feeding mana towards the portal. The cavern was large, but despite having at least two major tunnels capable of otherwise funnelling the water away, the centre of the cavern formed a natural basin that would continue to allow the water level to rise at least another five or so feet before flooding into the tunnels. Meanwhile, the portal would keep drawing both water and aquatic monsters to flood the depths.

 

If the invaders were smart, they would flee now, before the basin filled enough to support the ravenous fish. Then again, if they were smart, they wouldn’t have started this conflict in the first place.

 

Ril grinned and watched as Mama began picking off the invaders closest to the edge of the basin. Shielded as they were by the expanse of the portal, there was very little their enemies could do to assail Ril’s impromptu fortress. Even if they charged up here to attack her directly, it wasn’t as if Ril was without means of defending herself.

 

As chaos began taking hold below, Ril eagerly watched the water level rising and smiled. The wild monsters wouldn’t be the only ones allowed to have some fun!