63. For the Nation
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“...and with all the hope of the Star within our grasp, we have lost but one of her stout guardians.”

 

A crash rocked behind me as the demon slammed into an alley corner, but it was the voice echoing above that drew my mind for but one moment. It was a regal voice, one far louder and calmer than it had any right to be.

 

“...and yet persevere on these grounds, on this plateau raised but two eras ago. This idle wellspring of humanity…”

 

It boomed over the screams and crackling fires behind me, obviously enhanced by magic to reach over the huge central square, though it was obvious to me that it wasn’t Andril. I could only imagine the Duke standing upon a stage as he addressed the entire city, completely unaware of the approaching threat. 

 

The alleyways were now shrouded in mist, only the lights of lanterns ahead and the demon behind allowing any divination of my path. Countless doors to residences lined the flanks while the periodic maintenance ladder leading up to the roofs came at almost regular intervals. It was only occupied by carts and the odd person, though the former was quickly abandoned by the latter as the sight and sound of that raging beast caught their attention.

 

It was amazing to me that news of this had not yet spread throughout the entire city, though again the speed of which it had emerged probably had some part in that. From the perspective of these people and given how shocked they all looked, they probably just thought that it had just materialised a hundred metres behind me, masked by the speech and the mist such as we were.

 

I glanced over my shoulder for but a moment as I ran, only to immediately regret it when I caught sight of the wall of flames that followed. It was shifting and morphing as it charged after me, destroying anything smaller than a [truck] that happened to be parked in the alleys. Thankfully, while people were becoming more common as we got closer to the speech, those same people were almost universally smart enough to not stay standing in the way of the beast, so most of the screaming I heard was of fear and not from pain. I tried not to think about the ones that didn’t fit that.

 

Somehow, I felt calmer than I had when I was chasing after it, even though this was objectively a more terrifying predicament. Was it a side effect of the speed potion that’d just kicked in? Or had I just come to peace with it? It was also possible I was just mana drunk. That last one was probably the correct one.

 

Whatever the reason, I knew I could only run from it for a while longer. Despite my best efforts to circle back around over the last couple minutes, Mr. Demon hadn’t granted me the opportunity. And judging by the increasing volume of Andril’s voice, I wasn’t much farther from just leading this thing into the crowd I was trying to protect.

 

But where would I go? I couldn’t just stop and fight it, the surrounding buildings were actually occupied over here. Nor did I know the layout of this maze of a city well enough to turn it around back towards the industrial areas.

 

I ducked as a super heated chunk of rock exploded beside me, shards of rock jabbing into my arm. I stumbled for only a second before I caught my footing, but in return I lost a few crucial feet of distance between me and the monster.

 

God, I’d be dead a thousand times over if it wasn’t for that potion. It almost made me want to forgive Gideon for what happened back in Chicago. Almost.

 

“In these times we must look towards the heavens for guidance.” The voice boomed. “What say Celrion? What say Esilmor?”

 

The alley was a narrow place, and thankfully long. Most of the houses of Minua seemed to be sequestered behind the big streets like this, but there were little turns to speak of aside from those that met back up with the avenues.

 

“Has Esilmor not been in minor? Has Celrion not ascended to the fourth heaven since that day?”

 

Despite Saphry’s gift of the stars here, I had very little idea of what the man was talking about, or what it was advocating for. Was he calling for forgiveness? Prayer? War? Peace? What meaning could you even glean from the sta-

 

I glanced up above, an idea suddenly coming to mind.

 

Of course! The roofs! If there was one place that was guaranteed to be free of people, it would be there, and the demon would surely be visible through the fog if it shone from up above!

 

I skidded to a stop in front of the nearest ladder, leaping up three rungs at a time as I felt the licking flames get ever closer. It was only when I got past the second story that I slowed, unsure if the demon could even follow.

 

A massive roar shook the building as the demon caught up. I clutched closely to the building as I was buffeted, coughing as smoke filled my lungs. The building shook terribly as the monster dug its claws into the stone, countless chips of rubble falling past me as it hauled itself up after me. I didn’t dare to look at it, instead focused on making it up before it caught up.

 

I scrambled over the lip and onto the shingles, careful to keep from sliding. Up above the twelve massive stone stacks of the citadel and the lanterns upon them loomed through the mist like speckled geomantic gods, feeble rays of golden sunlight filtering down from above. An endless sea of blue shingles and vague shapes were barely visible against the horizon, and the peaks of the mountains surrounding the valley were lost amongst the clouds. The narrow alleys of the city cut through my vision like plentiful rivers, the ones to the east glowly gently in the morning while the ones behind me seethed with flames.

 

“...and yet, it is not only the petty plots of southern nobles that threaten our people. The murmurs of demons continues to grate upon our ears. Darkness gathers in the east, corrupting the hearts of men.”

 

I wanted to laugh. That statement rang much more true than Andril had any right to believe. Surely they could hear its roars and bellows from this close, right? The sounds of the people fleeing before it? Help had to be coming any moment now.

 

But for now I needed to keep it away. And looking for a route across the roofs I could see… ah, I might’ve made a mistake.

 

There was only one route across the connected roofs, the others too far below or steep to think of climbing. And it led directly towards the towering cathedral in the east. Directly towards the speech.

 

[Fuck]. Did I still have time to go-?

 

I turned back to jump to the other side of the alley, but a thick flaming claw chose just that moment to slam into the roof. Right behind it was the beast’s faceless head, roaring with rage as it caught sight of me once again.

 

Spatal!” 

 

It reeled back with an explosion of steam as another snowball slammed into its head, and its claw retreated back down. Despite its screams of pain, however, the claw was back in only a moment.

 

Could my cold magic even kill this thing? So far it seemed like it’d done little more than tickle it! Could I somehow knock it off and let physics do the work? It was still affected by physics, right? Or maybe I could just cast a banish spell? Ah, but that only brought me the question of how I’d be able to do that. I certainly couldn’t just approach and touch it without some kind of fire protection or magical shield...

 

It did make me wonder why I even bothered carrying Fredrick’s sword. Sure, it was enchanted and all that, but what did that matter when I couldn’t get close enough to swing it? 

 

I coughed as another billow of smoke blew over the roof. The demon had made it fully over, blocking my exit.

 

“I suppose it wouldn’t be too terrible if we made a bit more noise, right?” I muttered.

 

Lacking any other way to go, I dashed over the roof peaks towards the cathedral.

As Andril looked out over the thousands of citizens of Minua, he could only feel tired.

 

To be fair, it had been a while since that hadn’t been the case, almost two months at this point. There had been precious little else to think about, at least not if he wanted to live for the next six.

 

In all his years of noble life, Andril had always thought that he had lived a busy life. When he’d been young it’d been with lessons, and after he’d gotten to ten it’d been nonstop training with the Maverick’s head in Cice, and even after that it’d been political manoeuvring and meetings on behalf of his father and Elendri. There had been barely a day in which he wasn’t occupied with this or that.

 

Planning a rebellion, however, was an entirely different affair. Let alone busy, Andril couldn’t even remember the last time he’d been able to sleep a full eight hours. From the constant letters, to the military concerns, to the speeches and the meetings and keeping up on his training… Andril thought it a minor miracle that he was still standing.

 

If only the people here could see any of that. Andril thought.

 

Untold thousands milled about in the square before him, the residents of this city making up nearly a quarter of the entire duchy’s populace. It was a truly absurd number, only beaten by the capital of Verol itself, and yet Andril could not quite see his salvation inside them. More than he thought comfortable leered at him through the mist, and yet more looked as if they’d come more out of a sense of obligation and general boredom than interest.

 

And none fit that description more than those students from the academy.

 

They were set up along the south side of the plaza, huddled in a massive segregated crowd escorted by soldiers. It wasn’t the most dignified of treatments for ones of such status, but it had been decided that their attendance was more important than their comfort. 

 

Andril ran his gaze over the assorted students as Duke Belvan finished up his speech, noting a few particular nobles among them.

 

They’re lucky this is the extent of it. 

 

More than a couple of his enemies hadn’t been able to withdraw their children before everything had happened, leaving the prince with his share of hostages to leverage. Though none were attached to truly important conspirators, some of the dukes had enough family involved that Andril even entertained the notion that they’d stay neutral through the conflict.

 

Andril sighed at the absurdity of it all. He certainly would’ve scorned such methods as dishonourable a year ago. After all, what kind of man would threaten the young sons and daughters of his future vassals like that? He’d learned just recently that the answer was ‘a desperate one’. Nor, unfortunately, was it an ineffective tool. 

 

But despite the academy’s attendance, Andril could not see any of his ‘friends’ among them. Neither Auro, the Maverick’s, or even Saphry had seen fit to show up, though Andril couldn’t quite blame them. He’d had nothing but arguments with all of them since they’d arrived in Minua, and his last conversation with Fredrick in particular had ended with slammed doors and shouting.

 

Perhaps I’ll send for them after this. Andril thought. It wouldn’t be good to anger the first daughter of Summark, after all.

 

Andril blinked, surprised at himself. 

 

“My brain is fried with politics…” He muttered. 

 

“Lord Evendal, are you ready?”

 

Duke Belvan’s voice jerked him out of his internal thoughts, and Andril looked up at the thousands of expectant faces gazing at him through the mist. A bright spot glowed above the buildings directly opposite, though he could’ve sworn the sun was higher in the sky.

 

“Of course.”

 

The first prince stepped up to the edge of the stage, drawing his sword ‘Roctrin’ above his head. Rays of lantern light reflected from its newly polished blade, and a fresh warmth hummed about it in the chill of the morning.

 

“Men and women of Minua, I ask of you for one thing…”

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