"We will still win this, master," he said. "Oh? Do tell," the Masked One said, making Irun pause momentarily. "If we can just take the damn things from below and be off with them, then we have already won without shedding any more of our own sweat and blood," he explained. "Yes, and your failure to find where they were coming from has put all our plans at risk. You will head down with Dakzul and Kimzul to gather what you can. You can at least do that much, correct?" the Masked One snarled as Irun froze in fear under the weight of his flaring mana.
"What are you waiting for? A smack upside the skull? Move," he commanded, prompting Irun to bow quickly and dash down the stone stairs to meet with the others. He ran as quickly as he could to catch up to the two, who were already halfway there. "He's really pissed, isn't he?" Dakzul asked in a hushed tone as Irun moved in beside him.
"Well, he's still alive, so I guess he's not that angry," Kimzul shrugged, carrying an armful of vases in the opposite direction. "So long as we follow his orders, we should be fine. Let's just get this over with," he continued, suggestively nudging Irun toward the array of vases.
"Wait, what do you mean we should be fine?" Irun asked with visible confusion. "Ah, well, since we were once servants of the Church of Mideia, the Masked One has given us power in exchange for knowledge of this place, which we happened to find in Mourtis' room," Kimzul replied. "So you don't know how to fight. Got it," Irun nodded after his suspicions were confirmed.
"It's not like we've ever had to. We were members of the Church, not warriors. It's why he gave us this armor in the first place, because all we've done before coming here was preach to the infidels and pagans," Dakzul added sardonically. "You mean you spouted a load of bullshit," Irun scoffed, causing Dakzul to tilt his head. "It's not like you Synners aren't blasphemous in your own ways," Dakzul snarled.
"I'm not a Synner anymore, so don't call me that," Irun shook his head sternly. "Oh, I'm sure of that. If you were, you wouldn't be alive and on this side of the battle, would you?" Kimzul asked rhetorically, making Irun click his tongue. They went down the newly-made tunnel to the Plant's location, where the two armored men grabbed armfuls of vases.
"You can use mana, right?" Kimzul asked, trying to steer the conversation into a more amicable tone. "We're taught how to use it from the very beginning, in tandem with sword skills, although I don't think I know of anything that would help me carry anything my arms can't," Irun sighed. "That's mighty helpful," Kimzul muttered sarcastically.
"Grab as many as you can. We're going to have to make a few trips anyway," he continued, patting Irun's shoulder heavily as he observed the seemingly dead plants for a moment. "Why on the Continent would he want a dead source of power?" he asked, gently touching one of the leaves.
"According to him, they're not dead, but only meant to look like they are," Kimzul replied, as Irun closed his eyes and shook his head. "If you say so. Come on, let's get this over with," he sighed, reaching down to grab a set of vases and following the others back upstairs.
After gently setting their biddle on the floor, they quickly returned down the stairs to get more, but the Masked One watched the door carefully and expectantly.
I know you're here, so come out already, he thought as he stared at the shattered door.
Meanwhile, far outside the main hall, Edryd, Batch, and a handful of others slaughtered creature after creature. Their swords sang a beautiful tune of death, as the green and blackened blood glazed the cobblestone beneath them. Ed severed another limb from one of the horrid things that came for him, and the green blood flew into the air as the thing writhed on the ground before him, screeching in agony.
He breathed heavily for a moment, gathering information about his surroundings. Nenvalur, Roburn, and Anwill formed a line just ahead of him, carving a path deeper and deeper into the horde, leaving a trail of foul-smelling corpses in their wake.
I wonder how Thoma and the others are doing, he thought as three more glicks began to chase him down.
Edryd cast a fireball at the one in the center, consequently setting the other two alight. They writhed and screamed as their blood boiled, rupturing their skin and making a popping sound as the internal pressure grew too great for their scaly hides.
"Heh," he allowed himself, before charging in alongside Batch, who was just as covered in blood and gore as he was. "How many so far?" Batch asked, severing another set of clawed limbs, sending them soaring through the air. "I've lost count already," he replied, sticking his blade into another's mouth and slicing horizontally through the other side.
Batch severed the head of the one who faced him, and accidentally got some of its blood in his mouth, forcing him to choke and spit the contents. "It tastes worse than it smells," he managed to say, desperately fighting to keep whatever was in his stomach where it belonged. "I'm just surprised you're not dead from it," Edryd chuckled, cutting into yet another glick's gullet, nearly severing its head.
"Not yet, but… hurrok… I'm pretty sure I swallowed some," Batch returned. Meanwhile, Nenvalur's sword song transformed him into a whirlwind of wet steel, blood, and shouting. He twisted his sword so eloquently and cut so deeply that it made him look like a single, blood-spilling storm. He shouted his war-cry as he went and carved a deep path on his own.
Anwill cast almost as quickly as Nenvalur's blade could strike, scalding one, then another with orbs of flame and spears of lightning. He moved his hands together, keeping a small space between them while compressing a large amount of mana. The hair on his arm stood up as the air surrounding the mana sphere cracked and rumbled. He released the spell, which turned out to be a continuous Kyr spell, chaining lightning between multiple enemies, and charring those affected without so much as a screech.
"There are too many of them!" he shouted to Nenvalur, who was a small distance away, carving his gory path. "Keep fighting no matter what!" he shouted back. Roburn severed limbs from their owners, giving himself a small amount of breathing room, but he was growing worried about Rosie, who fought beside him.
"How are you holding up?" he asked, cutting down another two or three with a single strike. "I'm fine, but there's no end to these bastards! Where the hell are Batch and Edryd?" she asked, ripping her sword from a daemon's neck. "They should be behind us, but we need to regroup. We'll be sitting ducks if we stay separated for too much longer, so let's clear a path for them," he grunted, getting a nod of agreement from her.
The pair cast Exar spells to blast a handful of creatures out of their way, clearing a straight-lined path to his two juniors. The small breath of fresh air created by the blast was like a splash of river water to the face. However, it also carried the scent of horses, ones he knew were coming to support them.
Garett and the remaining horsemen had come at last, having fought their battle at the Northern Gate from a distance, minimizing their losses as best as possible. He led his horsemen into the horde with their swords drawn. "Leave none alive!" he shouted, pointing his sword toward Roburn's direction. With that burst of courage, Garett and the riders cast, hacked, and infused their remaining arrows to dispel the ones around the small group.
The space between Roburn, Ed, and the other creatures was enlarged, allowing them a moment to rest, even if only for a few seconds.
Garett approached Nenvalur and Anwill, who regrouped as the horsemen did their work behind him. "Gentlemen, my men and I have discovered something as we made our way here," he grinned wryly, prompting Anwill and Nenvalur to glance at him with genuine interest.
"We have spotted several ochelons guarding some massive crystals. They have some of their own, embedded in their skin, but I believe our enemy is using the bigger ones to control the others through mana, as this is not a natural partnership among monsters," he explained. "Please tell me you know where the rest of them are," Anwill stepped forward.
"My scouts informed me earlier that at least twenty, or more, were stationed at the gate. I suspect they were to act as deterrents to any other army that might try to help. Given the direction from which the glicks are coming, they must be somewhere in what remains of the market. We must head there immediately and destroy them if we are to survive this," Garett replied, gesturing toward the market.
Nenvalur came down from the pile of corpses he was standing on and swung his sword quickly to remove the remaining blood. "Let's get going, then. The longer we stay here, the more time it will give whoever's controlling them to regroup their forces," he suggested.
"I'll need a moment to clear my head. It seems I'm not in as good of shape as I used to be," Anwill sighed, but immediately widened his eyes in surprise when Nenvalur handed him a flask of unidentifiable contents. "Here, drink this. It will help with the mental fogginess," he grinned wryly.
Anwill popped the cork and drank the contents, twitching his head and shuddering as he swallowed. "Ugh, it tastes like goat piss," he grunted in disgust as Nenvalur patted him on the shoulder, smiling wryly. "I'm just hoping you don't know what that tastes like from personal experience," he said with a chuckle.
"Master Garett, please take point. We'll follow your lead," he said, turning to face the old Synner. "We don't fully know what to expect when we get there, but we'll do what we can to end this," he continued, signaling the rest of his group to gather around.
Though their exhaustion was evident, Roburn, Rosie, Batch, and Ed quickly joined the others. "We'll ride ahead to get a better lay of the market. We'll meet you there," Garett said, spurring his horse after getting a nod of agreement from Nenvalur. "Oh, that's great. We just got here, and we already have to move?" Batch sighed tiredly. "You'll be fine. Come on, young ones; you're with me," Nenvalur grinned maliciously.
How the fuck are we supposed to keep up with him? Ed wondered, shaking his head and beginning to trot behind the others.