+++ Rafine’s Perspective +++

My recent breakthroughs in magic study have allowed me to utilize and maintain a water spell to scan my immediate surroundings. 

Normally continuous field and/or combat spells generally have a very strict and well documented guideline for mana output, inflow, maintenance, usage, etc. not to mention they come with a slew of annoying conditions for actual casting. However, such formulations are necessary as maintaining a spell is so much more prone to backfire than the act of casting one.

This is one of the many reasons that cities needed to be built on alleviation siphons such as labyrinths. It is simply impossible to maintain a massive repellent barrier unless your whole city comprised of mages.

That is why using an adaptive spell like mine would probably warrant a dozen research papers at the university if I ever bothered to visit again.

Truth be told the breakthrough was largely in part due to my time with Alfon. The child thinks of such novel, but immensely promising topics of discussion that I have scarcely the time to even explore a fraction of them.  If only I hadn’t lost an arm. Having half the balance really hampered my abilities.

Nevertheless, it was thanks to this spell that I realized later how narrowly my party avoided tragedy.

After the umbral wave hit, and Prisilla left to engage the enemy, the rest of us were fortunate enough to be in a hidden enough location to lay low. I shan’t say what disgraceful activities I committed during the impact, but suffice to say it was not pretty.

 

---

“Are you feeling better now madam mage?” I recognized the voice as belonging to the young man I had rescued after Prisilla had left. He called himself Henrick and was worried sick about his mother. By the ghastly look when I found him I decided not to ask about any of his other companions.

“I-I am fine.” I tried to remain calm for the sake of the nervous civilians I had with me, but the wave hit me quite hard. 

I was fortunate I didn’t have breakfast.

“W-What about you lot?” I stuttered out, partially in an attempt to redirect the conversation, and partially because I was worried for them.

“The others did feel uncomfortable, but nothing like what you described madam mage. And you don’t have to worry about me, I pride myself on my tenacity!” From the gusto in which Henrick said those words, it seems like they were genuinely fine.

“Very well. Then let’s get going, I apologize for taking so long.” I stood up slowly and tried to activate my scanning spell that I recently developed.

But it didn’t work.

Strangely enough I didn’t get hit with any failure backlash either.

So I attempted to cast it again.

And again.

“Strange...” I murmured.

I tried some other spells but none of them worked.

Not a single one.

---

 

It was then that I realized something was very wrong.

If it wasn’t my casting of this small scanning spell I would never have realized until it was too late, for the standard practice in combat was to not waste mana when unnecessary.

The demon had come just as Alfon had predicted, and the one demon on record who had such an intense umbral muffling was Nyxarus, the Slaughter hound. With this knowledge in mind I made a decision to switch destinations from the evacuation site.

Monster waves have a side effect of drastically reducing the activity of monsters not affiliated with the horde itself so I escorted the survivors south for some time until I could be relatively certain they were out of harm's way and told them to keep running until they were out of the forest. 

 

---

“Please don’t leave madam mage!” A woman grasped my robe and cried, “You have to stay with us! I beg of you!” It was such selfish and rude behavior, but I could hardly blame them.

There is little one won’t do when their lives are on the line.

“Now now, madam mage has done a lot for us hasn’t she?” Henrick, assuming the pseudo leader role of the group, pried the woman away from my robes. A look upon his face was all I needed to understand that he shared the same emotions as her, it's just that he had the self control not to let it get the better of him.

“I am sorry.” I murmured a soft apology to them.

---

 

They tried several more times to persuade me to stay, even going so far as to threaten me, but I knew I could not.

So I put one foot in front of the other and headed back towards the sounds of bloody battle. The umbral field still permeated the forest and only grew stronger as I moved forth, but I had learned a few things about it after some experimentation.

It had a lesser effect on spells that were less sophisticated and more basic in nature. Indeed, if it had suppressed all manner of mana flow it would have erased all life in its radius. 

I wasn’t quite sure how to combat this, all of the spells I knew were carefully crafted by decades of history or by sheer ingenuity. 

As noises of battle intensified I found myself increasingly worrying if my companions were still alive.

Sylvestra, once our emotionally charged rogue, had transformed into a mature mother while we weren’t looking. Yet, I could still see the impulsive personality she once had bubbling to the surface at times. 

Prisilla, the ever unreliable beastwoman with terrible gambling habits. Yet she could find humor and comfort in the most dire of circumstances.

Alfon and Nina, two era changing geniuses in their own right. Two halves of a strange coin that I had gotten rather attached to. I couldn’t let their future end like this.

And so when I finally made my way back to Scorluk road and witnessed the nightmarish scene unfolding before me, I didn’t focus on the mind breaking dread of the skull wreathed demon, but rather I smelled the corpses of the dead, piling up on the roadside; I saw the corroded silhouette of Sylvestra, injured but still fighting; I heard the battle cries of Prisilla, lost in her bestial fury; and I realized I was angry.

As the conflagration came forth from my will alone, as my horns ignited from the swirling mana, as the earth beneath me liquefied under the intense heat.

I did not cast the spell.

I did not instruct the mana where to flow.

I simply felt what I was gifted.

The fire came to me, and, like instinct, I unleashed it.

 

+++ ???’s Perspective +++

“Nya!” The beastwoman took a step back, her tail nearly catching on fire as the oxygen surrounding the demon spontaneously combusted. Her eyes settled upon the new threat presenting itself. A small blue robed mage with horns like fire and hair like magma.

“R..Rafine?” She uttered the name like it was foreign to her for her memories evaporated with each additional hit she took. But something within her body ached upon the sight of the small mage.

Her heart remembers, even if her head would not.

“Back off Prisilla!” The green cloaked woman leaped to knock her to the side, right out of the way of a black claw slamming down where she once was.

Ah, this felt familiar somehow.

“Idiot! What are you doing just standing around?” The blond haired woman was breathing heavily, she didn’t seem to be in the best shape.

“Nya? What?” Prisilla gave her a puzzled look before the demon interrupted them with a howl of pain, seemingly hurt from the flame strike. Indeed, though its body is unphased by most physical attacks, spells that were magic in nature seem to be effective against it. 

But that wasn’t what Sylvestra was currently concerned about right now.

“Rafine! Run! It’s after you!”

Nyxarus set its ugly sights on the red haired mage, charged forward single mindedly, intent on shredding her to pieces.

Prisilla’s body moved before her mind could react, kicking up dirt as she tried to catch up.

But despite her efforts she seemed too slow.

Sylvestra, however, was not. Flinting across the understory faster than the eye could see, it seemed like her feet never even touched the ground.

SLASH.

The terrible claws of the Slaughter Hound rend a massive gash into the dirt, striking the ground where the mage once stood.

With a loud grunt, the wind was knocked out of Rafine's lungs as she and Sylvestra collided with a nearby tree. 

“Ah, Thank you Sylvestra.”

“N-No P-Problem.” Flinching from the heat of Rafine’s body, Sylvestra quickly turned away.

“Oh. I...” Seeing the burn marks on her arms where she held her, Rafine held in an apology.

“Can you do that again Rafine?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never really tried to cast a spell like this before. But I think I have one more of those left in me.”

“We’ll buy you time then.”

“NYA!” The pair of them turned their heads to see Prisilla, once again raining blow after blow into the body of the beast. She was hit back in turn, by claw and shadow, but she was seemingly unphased by any injuries the demon dealt to her.

“Rafine... do you know?” Sylvestra left the question in the air as she stood up shakily. 

“I do.” Nodded grimly, “It’s the weapon. I knew she kept it around, but I didn’t think it was like this.”

“I see.”

Sylvestra moved to distract the shadowy monster while Rafine tried once again to tap into that energy once again.

No more words were needed between them. 

 

+

“Ha... Ha...” Jaggeroth was running for his life. 

Gasping for breath as he fled with all his might, his heart pounding in his chest like a thunderous drumbeat. 

“SCREEEEEE.”

The frenzied howls of a murderous tribe of Red Caps echoed through the forest, each one sending a shiver down his spine. And above them...

FWOSH. 

A special ranked beast, the Griffon. 

He whispered a silent prayer to Milos, beseeching the deity for the strength to outrun his relentless pursuers.

Ducking and weaving through the trees he had made his back into the blood soaked camp. The scene was horrifying but he didn’t have a second to spare, gritting his teeth he ran through the blood, trying not to lose his footing among the dead and undead.

KABOOM.

“....aaaa....”

There.

The explosion. 

That must be it.

Emerging onto the mainroad he bore witness to the dead adventurers along the roadside and the living three still combating the Slaughter hound.

“RUN!” He yelled as he sprinted towards them, “I’ve got company!”

Rafine made a break for the treeline, sensing a shift in the situation, and the verdant rogue tried to follow, but... with how much she had been pushing herself with those kinds of injuries.

Her legs had all but given out.

Nyxarus set its sight on the emerald robed woman who had been repeatedly denying its prey and brought its shadow wreathed tail down upon her.

“SYLVIE!” Rafine screamed, but was unable to cast.

The blademaiden gasped, as she spat out blood, the umbral tipped spikes piercing her torso. 

The demon sneered at the sight, and slowly lifted its tail.

Only to bring it down again.

Crack.

“Ha..” Sylvestra lost hold of her daggers as her legs shattered under the force of the impact. “Al..fy...”

The skulls adorning the side of the Slaughter Hound’s body seemed to taunt her as her body teetered on the edge of death.

Once again Nyxarus brought its tail up.

And sent it down.

But this time it was batted to the side, just barely.

“Nya!” Prisilla could not understand why she was doing this, the scars on her mind left all but her ability to speak at this point. But her heart had brought about this choice.

It felt right to her.

Jaggeroth, getting the hint, scooped up the fallen rogue and made a mad dash to run. Nyxarus didn’t want the fun to end just yet, but right at this moment, it had been stopped by a tenacious tiny halberd wielding half-breed.

One that simply would not die like all the others.

But before it could bat the strange catwoman away, a scream sounded out from the trees behind it.

“SCREEEE!” 

The Red Caps had caught up, and they did not like the demon wolf on its territory. Blood crazed, they launched themselves at Nyxarus full force, and though much of their physical attacks were ineffective, the spells from the Red Cap mages struck true.

But perhaps the most devastating blow of them all was the diving talons of the massive Griffon.

SLAM.

Sharp claws dug deep into its black hide as the winged ruler of the monster horde struck down the demon like a falling comet, sending Nyxarus’ bloody ink shadow splaying across the dirt road. 

The Slaughter Hound narrowed its eyes at the new adversaries, realizing it had played with its food for far too long. Shadows gathered around its body as Wolfenhils grew out of the inky blood and launched themselves blindly against the enemies of the demon.

The Griffon was no mere prey it could play with.

It was a threat, and demanded what power it had remaining.

“ARROOOOOWW.”

“SCREEEEEE.”

As the monsters clashed, the three adventurers moved away from the battlefield on weary legs.

But the damage they had taken made them much slower than they would have liked.

Still, they forced their legs to move until they were a fair distance into the trees.

And then, Rafine turned back, intent on returning to the battlefield before the Jaggeroth stopped her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m going back for her.” Rafine said quietly.

“You and what army?” Jaggeroth snapped, “Aren’t mages supposed to be smart? That girl sacrificed her life like a proud beastman just so we could get out alive and you want to dirty her deed by running back into death? My kinsmen would rise up and strike me from the grave if I ever even thought about that idea.”

“You don’t understand...”

“I understand that you’re a complete knucklehead, that's what I understand. I get that she’s important to you, hell, I played cards with her daily on this trip, but that doesn’t mean we aren’t warriors here. Get your act together and start running.”

“It would be presumptuous of you to assume you know my friend by simply a few games of cards.”

“I know her well enough to realize she wouldn’t want you charging back into there with no plan. Unless you’re the World Weaver or something, there's absolutely jack diddly squat you can do between a fight of special ranked monsters.” 

Rafine gritted her teeth, her mind acknowledging his argument despite how her heart could not accept it.

“If you want to waste your life away then be my guest, but if you’ve got any will to live left in you just shut up and run. Your green rogue friend is still breathing, maybe we can get her to that church woman if we’re fast enough.”

 

+

“How is he?” Thalia leaned in to inspect the healing process, her own body aching from the blow of the morning star earlier. 

“The blades seemed to have missed his vital organs, he was very lucky, they might have wanted to take him alive.” Lirien wiped the sweat off her brow as she spoke, “He’ll live.”

“Thank you so much madam priestess, I-”

“Thalia.” Calidra pulled out her blade, gesturing to the freckled knight to get ready.

crink. 

Hearing a branch snap behind her, Thalia drew her blade and stood to attention.

“...Some A ranked adventurer you are.”

“I’m a mage, not a scout!”

An outlander and a beastman carrying an emerald robed woman appeared from the forest.

“Oi, Lirien, good to see you’re still alive.”

“J-Jaggeroth?” Quickly finishing her treatment she ran towards the convoy captain, “You’re alright? W-Where is Zorana? D-Don’t tell me she...” The priestess put a hand over her mouth, fearing the worst.

“Easy easy, she should be alright, I told her to run earlier.” Jaggeroth put a hand out to calm the fair haired woman, who breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Oh thank god. But... where would she...” 

“Anyways, I’m sure she’ll be fine, she's a tough one. You have any potions left? I got wounded.” Jaggeroth gestured to the woman she had over her shoulder.

“Sylvesta!” Recognizing the green cloak, Lirien beckoned to Jaggeroth, “We have plenty. Quickly, set her down.” 

As Jaggeroth set Sylvestra down gently, the look on the priestess’ face darkened, “Oh... no... I...”

“You alright?”

“W-What happened to the rest of the combatants?”

“Beats me,” Jaggeroth muttered, “but I only came across corpses. So how’s she looking?”

“I... can’t heal this. Corrosion, burns, punctures, bone fractures, internal bleeding... She's a mess.”

Rafine looked away, biting her lower lip.

“I’ll provide some relief but...” Lirien poured a vial of liquid slowly into her mouth, “If we don’t get her to a church soon...”

“Then we should hurry.” Jaggeroth stood up and spoke with a practiced, commanding tone, “Load the injured on that wagon. Let’s get moving.”

The others nodded at his suggestion, grim looks on their faces. Trekking through the forest on foot was a fool's errand, and with the shadowy spawns of the demons emerging all around, they would be hunted down in no time.

Still, there was a chance.

For the first drops of rain began falling from the sky.

++

“Captain Hasgar, your orders?” A lieutenant asked urgently while beating back a shadowy wolf. These umbral figures resembled Wolfenhils but were somehow even more tenacious and much more dangerous with their ability to cast magic. 

The Telderane escort had made their way along Scorluk as fast as they could, but what they thought was a simple rescue operation turned into a darker understanding when they noticed a single overturned wagon with broken crates and scattered goods, surrounded by Wolfenhils.

Wolfenhils who could cast magic.

As they slew the unearthly beasts they inspected the carriage only to find the mangled pair of corpses unidentifiable to even the most discerning onlooker.

Many had the thought of turning back, but Hasgar urged them onwards, intent on finding out the root cause of this mess, on what had happened to the Telderane lords they had planned on receiving.

The wreckages only grew in number as their escort convoy rode down the well-trodden road, and so too did the unnerving feeling that blanketed the forest. It was mid afternoon, yet somehow the sky seemed so dark. They were getting attacked more frequently now, despite the falling rain covering up much of their scent from the monsters.

Yet they continued regardless.

ARRRRRAAAAAAAWWWWW.

It was only a ferocious howl that truly broke their will to continue.

The heart-stopping sound of a roar resounded through the woods. As Hasgar lifted his gaze to the skies, a jet black stream of energy pierced through the heavens, cleaving a path of destruction through the air and rending a bloody hole through a winged beast. The poor creature plummeted toward the ground, a trail of crimson marking its descent.

At the very same instance, inky shadows shifted, revealing the sinister forms of tar-black Wolfenhils, their glowing red eyes promising only malice and destruction. The escort convoy barely had time to steel themselves for the onslaught, their weapons clutched tight and ready. The creatures launched themselves relentlessly at the group, vicious claws and teeth bared as they sought to tear apart their prey.

“Lieutenant!” Hasgar shouted, his voice barely above the volume of his infused sword strikes, “What was that?”

“I’m not certain about the origin of that spell, but the monster in the sky was most definitely a Griffin.”

“A Griffin? Are you sure?” Hasgar shuddered at the thought of the type of creature that could strike down a Griffin.

“Positive captain!”

“Damn.” Hasgar raised his shield to receive the stone projectiles of the strange Wolfenhils, before cleaving the head off the four legged caster in the next motion.

It was a duty as the captain of the Telderane house at Halyis to protect their lords with everything they had, but with such little prospects of the survival of the traveling convoy, he could see no merit in throwing away the lives of his men at such a hopeless endeavor.

As the rain started pouring, he made a judgment he hoped he wouldn’t regret.

“Fall back!” He ordered, and his men obeyed swifty. They were just about to leave when an impossibly long tendril shot out from the darkness, barely missing him and impaling the tree right behind him.

Hasgar leapt back before muttering in horror, “What... on earth?”

Click. Click Click.

A grotesque creature had placed itself between the Telderane escort and the road back to Halyis, pale blue eyes opening and closing on parts of its body where eyes were not supposed to be, its long winding horns a testament to its horrible power.

Even the worst books Hasgar had read spoke of no tormentous monster such as this one.

“What is that?” Several of the escorting guards had even lost hold of their weapon, shaking in fear, only their hardened training preventing them from panicking. 

Click Click Click.

It stood there, staring at the cowering Telderane troops, its head rotating in odd motions. Silence seemed to blanket the road for a moment.

“At attention!” Hasgar, the first to recover, took to the front lines and rallied his men, “Do not falter! All monsters can be felled!”

The voice of their commander snapped the soldiers out of their fear and they readied their weapons, wary to receive the next strike of the strange beast.

Click... click.

But the creature continued to emit an unearthly clicking noise while silently standing in their way.

“Why... isn’t it attacking?” One of the officers asked.

“Is it looking for something?”

One of the troops decided upon himself to make a preemptive strike with his bow, but no sooner did he draw his bowstring did a pale tendril come flying at him at a terrifying speed.

“Look out!” Hasgar, ready and waiting, intercepted the appendage midair with his blade, barely able to deflect the attack to the side, where it struck a tree with a loud crack. “Careful men, the monster hits fast and hard.” His hands shook with the effort it took to divert it.

One of the senior soldiers launched themselves at the long tendril, ready to chop it to pieces, but a loud clang sound rang out as his blade bounced off the flesh of the strange beast. “What?”

“Sir. It seems to be impervious to physical strikes!”

“Drat.” Hasgar muttered, for they only organized the troops at the ready and didn’t have the opportunity to muster any mages. However, before Hasgar could think of a countermeasure a loud clicking noise came from the beast, drowning out his thoughts.

Clickclickclick click.

They prepared to receive another blow, but, in a strange turn of events, the creature dashed off into the woods and left.

Leaving the Telderane squadron relieved, but confused, in the pouring rain.

“What in the?”

“What was that beast sir?”

“I can’t say,” Hasgar responded, “I’ve never seen something like that before. Still, we should take this opportunity to leave, whatever is causing this sickening mess is further down the road, but we can’t guarantee it will stay like that for long. We should inform the town befo-”

Before he could finish his sentence a glint from the bushes caught his attention. “Who's there! Show yourself!”

...

Some rustling before a gruff, exasperated voice could be heard.

“Wow, talk about dejavu.” A beastman came out with his arms raised and rolled his eyes.

“Oh shut it,” Lirien replied sharply. He was followed by a fair haired priestess, a couple of soldiers carrying what looks to be a wagon, but most alarmingly: a horned woman in blue robes soaked by the rain. Immediately, the troops were back on high alert, for, as far as they know, only monsters and outlanders were horned.

“Oh.” Rafine took notice of the rising tension, her mind had been occupied until now and she didn’t even realize the mistake, “We mean no harm. Please, we have injured with us, we need medical care.”

“So you claim.” Hasgar narrowed his eyes, but focused his attention on the more pressing matters, “But for now I take it you are survivors. We should leave while we can, do you know what transpired here?”

“It’s a long story.” Jaggeroth answered.