Chapter 32 - Chapter 31

***

Berg,

Sturmkamm wasn't always a city, nor was it always a town. It started as a mining outpost, that much Berg remembered pretty well.

It was Schurke who started it all. A lad one village over, he was the brother of Berg's third cousin's mother-in-law, and one of those adventuring youngsters who always had ants in his pants. He found a vein of Silberherz that ran close to the surface, pushed up, most likely, during that horrific earthquake that Berg's own grandfather told him about. 

And what a deposit it was. The area around it wasn't completely inaccessible; the ancient empire had built roads leading into the Sturmkamm Valley, where they mined ores of the less magical, less precious sort. The place had been abandoned for an age, but venturing back in was far easier than braving some other valley that had never known a woodsman's axe.

So Schurke's grandfather, experienced miner as he was, gathered the clans from the surrounding villages and pitched the idea to establish an outpost and run a proper survey, and if it proved out, sink a mine.

Berg was in the very first expedition to head out here and set up camp, and he'd been here ever since. He remembered all of it, from the first mineshaft being laid to the first defensive fortifications being built up, both of which he'd had a hand in. He could also remember the good cheer when the first ore they mined was sold, getting them the supplies and equipment they needed to properly expand.

Humans… the humans came later. When the riches started to flow out of the earth in full and the coin started to flow in.

Wasn't a bad thing, at least not to Berg's reckoning; they helped build the town up, and many adventurers were decent folk. A lot of humans came to a place where the money flowed, and ended up staying. Some men were hired into the mines to toil side by side with dwarves, some started to farm, some showed up and became bakers, tanners, and jewelers. It was real magic, seeing so many people living in lands Berg remembered as a monster-infested shithole.

Now, of course, there were problems; humans were the sort of folk who were… fleeting, by nature. In commitments and upon this earth. Didn't help that even Berg himself, who was far from the most stranger-fearing dwarf, wasn't really used to dealing with that many people. To this day, it was still odd to him that he didn't personally know every person he lived on the same land with. Naturally, a fair few of his brethren who weren't born in the city to begin with struggled to adjust just like he did, or even worse. Good thing the children being born to a new age had no such problems.

And yet it was hard to complain, not when the clans who'd first established the mine were, to this day, the richest families in the region, bar none. As a matter of fact, it was a little too much wealth, Berg reckoned, though most folks told him that's an odd thing to hear from a dwarf.

He'd heard it often in general that he was an odd one out. Some even called him an old man, out of touch with things.

What an odd thing it was, realizing he wasn't the young adventurer anymore, the one who'd set out to do what no one else dared and raise a mine in the middle of nowhere, but instead one of the relics and pillars of the community, himself as old as it, there since its very first day.

"You are quite focused, master dwarf," a sultry, pleasant voice called out, making Berg turn his eyes just a bit, towards the literal witch whom Albert warmed up against his chest. "And yet so utterly calm. Is it the experience speaking, I wonder?" And yet, despite her words being delivered absent-mindedly and lightly, Berg noted that the woman sounded a touch more strained than normal. Nervous, likely.

That put him at ease, somewhat.

For no real reason, Hexe creeped the ancient warrior out. It might have been the way she stared off deeper into the valley, where Albert was likely hidden, watching a battle too distant for the two of them to see. Or it might have been her barbed tongue, which, while not necessarily malicious, was still far too skilled at prodding and directing men into doing her bidding.

"How am I s'posed to answer that?" Berg asked plainly, seemingly taking the woman aback, once his words registered with her, making the woman blink. "Ye said a lot o' words, but I'm no closer to understandin' what ye want."

Hexe studied him for a brief moment and giggled, much to the dwarf's deep-rooted annoyance.

"I apologize. I… fall back to certain habits in speech, when sufficiently nervous," she said, taking a deep breath, "Meaningless drivel is a shield in the circles where I used to have my 'fights', such as they were. An approaching battle like this one… makes me feel out of place," she mused, and Berg could tell she seemed to be genuine about that, too.

He understood that. The need to say what was in your heart when something big was coming, when you felt it in your bones.

"Well, ye're handlin' yerself better, preparin' for a proper fight, than I would've had knowin' I had to trade barbs with some stuck-up blue-blooded arsehole," Berg offered, making the woman blink in surprise, "Ye've seen how it went for me with that lordling, were the situation with them demons any different, I would've likely lost my head…" In the best-case scenario, at least.

As it was, Berg's clan likely would've tried to stand behind him, which could've rallied the other dwarven clans, and that, probably, would've made the whole city fight at their side, against a force that, it seemed, specialized in taking cities like Sturmkamm during the civil war.

Would've been a damn slaughter.

It was a good thing the lordling had a better temper than Berg himself. Better still, Albert was such a monster that he alone was enough to scare folk off acting dumb.

Yet it didn't change that Berg had messed up; he just wasn't equipped to negotiate with people so high up…

"Believe it or not, I myself was a step away from speaking up… even if it likely would've done more damage still," Hexe said, looking deeply annoyed, "These type of men are excruciatingly difficult to deal with, it's only thanks to Albert that I was forewarned to dress as conservatively as possible; otherwise that provincial lout might have dismissed me entirely as a mere courtesan."

Berg decided not to mention that this woman's usual state of dress was pretty damn scandalous as far as he reckoned too, and that's without mentioning how touchy she was towards Albert.

Honestly, if Berg knew his friend any less, he would've thought he was keeping this woman around specifically for her… assets. Too much of a coincidence when a lass this fine suddenly hangs on an important man's arm, barely dressed.

Seeing that they barely interacted, the only reason he knew that this woman was also an amazing mage was that Albert plainly shared this much during one of their talks. If not for that, Berg would only know of the woman's genuine skill because of Schaum, who swore by the perfumes and other wares she kept in stock, apparently of Hexe's own make. Berg's other girls did too, his darling spouse among them.

He supposed he was very much a 'provincial lout' himself, whatever that meant.

"My point," Berg started slowly, and paused, considering his thoughts, "is that this is somethin' I've been preparin' for," he said, his hand briefly touching a throwing axe at his belt. "For a long while…" he added that quietly, only now realizing how true that was, "The only reason I'm not shakin' is that my girls and the rest of the family are away, and I know that by stayin' here I'll save their lives, no matter how this goes," he offered, "I figure that wouldn't help ye much."

Hexe looked at him, her lips twitching downwards just a bit.

"I suppose it wouldn't." She tilted her head, "But what do you mean you've been preparing for this? For a demon army to invade?" she asked with some humour, joking, or so she thought.

Berg tried to respond but… paused, unsure how to even explain.

He wasn't very good with words, at least not with the kind that were about feelings and motives and things. He was better with it than he used to be; his darling and his daughters mellowed him out a lot, but… it was still difficult to talk about himself.

His instinct was to simply say 'never mind that', and let the silence linger.

A century ago, he might have done just that.

Now, however… it felt like something worth spelling out. At least so he himself could understand it better.

"There's been a reason why I've… why I've stopped meddlin' with the Guard," he explained quietly, "Ye aren't from 'round here, but before Ahnungslos became a Bürgermeister I… I've been doin' a lot." Berg scratched the back of his head, feeling a spike of annoyance at being unable to find the right words quickly, "I've been doin' a lot… but for a while I've been feelin' that I can't keep that up." He glanced at the mage and smiled through his beard, "How to fight monsters, I get. I know how to secure passes for the winter, what a village, or damn, even a small town, needs to survive. Lots o' stuff like that, I understood. But this place…?" Berg gestured around the grand watch tower on top of which they stood. "This place has grown too much for me," he admitted quietly. "Past a certain point, a point I couldn't recall even if ye were to ask… I just didn't understand it anymore. It didn't click, not in how it clicked for me all those years. I could still count the numbers before making decisions, but it's not the same; I felt like I was overlooking something every time. I was scared there wouldn't be anyone to pick up the work. I thought maybe if I held on a little more, learned more, I'd be able to be on top of it all again, but…" Berg chuckled quietly, as if to himself, "Ahnungslos, the hog's son, made me let go o' those ideas, and stand aside. Let all the younglings I always looked over actually take charge and make their own decisions. Some days, I'm right grateful to him for that. Some days, I want to choke the life out o' that particular hog with those two hands," Berg said, shaking his fists, and his eyes met the witch's. "Fact o' the matter is, for over three decades I've been expectin' an invadin' army to show up to pillage and burn all I've built, 'cause I messed up somewhere. Ever since I retired, it's been a relief knowin' that even if the army showed, 'twouldn't be my fault. S'pose… It's a relief even now," the dwarf admitted to his shame, glancing aside.

For a while, there was silence.

"It's difficult for me to grasp," the witch's voice was softer as she replied. It didn't sound soft on purpose, but like the voice of someone who couldn't muster the strength to put any force behind it. "Surrendering control so willingly. I…" She paused, looking surprisingly vulnerable, as she searched for words, "I've never had much control in my life, nor much choice. I've been sold to be apprenticed, and my master was…" Her eyes flashed, "A cruel and demanding mistress. The moment I've managed to get any semblance of control over what I do, how I do it, and why I do it… I've never let go." Hexe met Berg's gaze, "It sounds unbelievable that you would just… let go, and be happy that everything depends on someone else… that there could be any relief in any tragedy not being your fault, if something terrible did happen."

Berg couldn't help it; he laughed. It wasn't anything grand, just a few small chuckles, but even that seemed to offend the witch somewhat.

"Apologies," he muttered, waving away the bout of amusement, "It's just always amusin' to see a youngling so spirited, so sure that everythin' in the world is theirs to take and shape." He looked at the woman with a genuine smile, which seemed to surprise her somewhat, "Ye're young, Hexe, so ye don't understand how exhaustin' it is to try and control every little thing. Chances are, one day ye'll understand exactly what I mean." He smiled, tilting his head, "After all… Albert too prepares to surrender all control over the little school, does he not?"

The woman hesitated before shaking her head.

"He is… he is different, he values things of a different nature than you and I," she huffed, "Besides, brave of you to assume that mere age will somehow magically make me see your point."

Berg just shook his head.

"We'll see, won't we? At least provided we win…" the dwarf finished, glancing down.

The tower they stood on was part of the outpost that was built on the mountain slope, as part of the wall of the inner city.

It just so happened to be the highest place in Sturmkamm… and also the same place where he'd met Albert.

They weren't standing here on lookout; there were plenty of eyes on the city's outer walls. They'd been waiting for a message from Albert. Hexe was waiting for it, to be more precise, and Berg was here to guard her, in case a demon assassin was sent ahead to sneak into the city, this time to kill someone rather than only burn a warehouse the way the last one had.

This place was also chosen for a reason; if the fight were to break out, everyone in the city below would see it.

Albert insisted that any hunters, warriors, or mages… anyone at all, really, aside from himself, would get spotted were they to attempt tracking the demonic army up close. So he headed out alone, following the doomed lordling.

He did say to 'come help, if they see storms of fire big enough to block out the sky, as facing Aura's armies in the field by his side without a plan at all would still be their greatest chance of surviving than leaving him to die', which made Berg lose it and laugh himself silly right when Albert was saying his goodbyes… because unlike everyone else present, the dwarf knew that the elf was completely serious.

And now…

"Seems to be on time," Berg commented, and at Hexe's questioning stare, just pointed towards a barely visible transparent bird that was flying very high up, and started to descend.

"I can barely see that," the witch, who was staring into the sky intently, noted, "Impressive eyes."

Berg just nodded, feeling himself growing tenser.

Now, what did the infuriating elf have for them?

***

Neugieri,

There were a lot of misconceptions about what mental magic could do, at least among those who've only heard the basic description of the discipline. Some thought you could twist the person's wants and thoughts, change their loyalty with spellwork, and this… was beyond mental magic. It was possible to seal a memory, or slightly alter one or a few, but such changes required active spells placed on one's mind. Before you could influence enough memories to make a change to the person's sense of self, the spells would interfere with each other and unravel. One was incredibly limited in how many changes one could place on a person's mind.

For that reason, rather than to 'bewitch,' it was far more common to make spells that simply put one's mind to sleep. Or spells that lock away the mind's ability to move the body consciously. Or spells that hijack the mind's connection to the body and crudely puppet it around. Of course, spells to transfer, recall, or erase memories existed too, with the aforementioned limitations in mind.

Mental Magic, in other words, was a broad field, and it required a mage to understand how humans, or even animals, thought, how patterns formed in the minds, and how experiences shaped them. An understanding of the mind was essential, and a keen mind capable of visualizing something as abstract as the 'connections in the mind' was needed, too.

It was for that reason that Neugieri was quite learned in the sciences and general principles of the workings of the mind.

So she recognized what was happening to her. That sense of weightless surrealism and numbness took hold of her thinking despite genuine exhaustion and her screaming muscles.

Her mind was giving up on her, not in some grand display of hysterical shutdown, but in a quiet buzz and dissociation from what she was seeing and feeling, as if she was merely puppeting her own body. The things that had happened, that kept happening, were simply so overwhelming that she couldn't process or cope with them.

She had read about things like that.

She had never expected to experience it on herself.

"What a delicate work, you are practically layering those on top of one another, and they are just so thin…" the monster whose breath Neugieri felt on her neck said quietly, admiration in its voice. Heat rose in Neugieri's chest like scolding flames, like a hot wind off a forge, there and gone, with nowhere to go; her face did not move, the order saw to that. Neugieri felt sick. "So this one," The demon who was oozing enough power for Neugieri to feel as if she was pressed down by a mountain, gently directed its mana to prod at one of the weaves Neugieri just finished laying out over the mind of… of… "What does it do?"

Neugieri felt it then, a silent rattling of chains that entangled her innermost part. She'd felt it, how the demon's question made those damnable chains ignite, and tug on something in her that was deeper than her heart and brain, deeper than her mind still, deeper than anything she knew of and…

"...this weave signifies confusion within the template, helps induce it by interfering with the target's ability to form clear thoughts," she found herself explaining in a hoarse voice. She didn't wish to, she didn't even start thinking about how to respond, and yet her lips were uttering the answer.

In accordance with the order given to her days ago, 'Answer Aura's questions honestly, politely, and to the best of your abilities when addressed.'

However, there was another order that forced her to speak a moment later. That one was 'Speak up if you believe that Aura needs to know something immediately, and you can do so.'

"...but I don't understand what you are trying to have me achieve. You asked me to make him behave in a way that would make fighting him harder for other people, and not to worry about anything else… but the changes I will have to make will leave him in no state to fight," Neugieri said, unable to even hate herself, the agency over everything that she was - stripped away days ago, and any bright feelings sapped over the days of quiet horror.

"Hmmm…" A hand settled on Neugieri's head and dragged it back and forth, too rough. A gesture the demon had watched humans make before and never once understood, with no notion of how to do it gently, or how to keep it from hurting. More tagging on her hair with her open palm, with her inhuman strength, rather than patting. "Honestly, I was mostly just curious if you can do it," the demon admitted casually, without a care in the world. "It's always interesting to see a skilled mage in action, especially one whose magic is as similar to my own as it could be."

She had set the last weave exactly where she meant it; her control had not so much as wavered, even now, even as she stared at this face, the one she would have given anything to leave whole. Neugieri finally tore her eyes away from Hanseln's frozen, pale, and unconscious face, looking back towards the thing she hated the most in the entire world.

The demon merely sat down on a boulder, leaning a bit back and crossing its legs, before resting its head on its palms.

"It's not like I care too much about being efficient with those things, I am powerful enough that I will win anyway," it said simply, "But it's an undignified habit from my younger days, when I had to use every advantage there was, including specifically targeting human feelings." The demon gave Neugieri an easy-going smile, "I told you before that my magic is called Auserlese, right?" it asked, subtly puffing up with pride, "The name is pretty self-explanatory; it's a magic that imposes absolute obedience that can't be bypassed, as I am sure you already realized." The demon inclined its head a bit, "I mean, with all those mental spells you've cast upon yourself."

Something cold turned over deep in her chest, and settled. This… trying to break free with mental magic, it was one of the few 'holes' in the countless orders that were imposed on her, and she was sure the attempts made by her had gone unnoticed.

Yet, for two days Neugieri tried, for two days, no matter what orders she had given to her body… never once was she able to overpower the demon's spell. The chains that bound her felt absolutely indestructible.

"Ah," The demon blinked, as if realizing something, "Don't worry, I am not angry. I've let you try on purpose. While I am sure my magic is unmatched, you can never truly know unless you test this sort of thing, you know?" it explained simply, "I think it's respectable that you tried so much; some of those spell structures you've layered on yourself seem incredibly complex. Unfortunately, they are bypassed on a level they simply can't operate on. Human magic simply can't compare."

The worst part was that Neugieri could tell, the demon wasn't mocking her, not consciously at least. It genuinely seemed to have been conveying its thoughts.

"But my point here is that you must have realized that no matter what state your mind is in, Auserlese takes priority," the pink-haired thing explained simply, "The same is true for the body." The demon gestured towards the puppets standing to the side of the camp, "So speaking of the puppet you've been working on, it doesn't matter how much you mess with his head; in battle, he will still perform as well as he can," the demon explained, "Normally, I give them commands myself to cry out, beg for mercy, or just sound… Ah, what is the word?" The demon closed its eyes for a moment. "Ah, pitiful. Make them sound pitiful," it said, sounding genuinely happy with itself, before the demon's face showed profound disappointment, "But the performance is always unreliable and incredibly different from person to person, because when following the orders of Auserlese, the target tries to follow it as best as it can, and that comes down a lot to the original quality of the material and its own understanding of how to act. I could always command them to say specific words and phrases, and you saw me do that on the river, so you know it's incredibly shabby work; it barely works at all," it complained, leaning back and briefly looking up, towards the bright morning sky, "So I hope you can make a better job of it, seeing that this one is an important human," the demon said, sparing Hanseln a glance with an expression of utter boredom, "So don't worry about how it would normally impact his battle capabilities, it won't, and besides, he is there to be chopped up anyway. Just focus on bringing his mind to a condition where he will be saying the best possible things to cause disturbances and hesitation."

Neugieri wanted to cry, but one of the orders had been 'your body will no longer produce reactions detrimental to your health or ability to perform work'.

Neugieri spoke up again, this time without the cursed spell making her.

"If you are so confident in your magic and power… why bother with any of this at all?" Neugieri asked quietly.

The demon merely smiled at her.

"Why not? It's fun, no?" it offered, gesturing with its left hand freely, as if holding onto an invisible weight, "Besides, while I am confident, I am not foolish, the enemy, this Albert, is an elf, and those can't be underestimated. I've made an effort to bring an entire army full of mostly living humans here, specifically for that small advantage, even though a lot of them ended up dying because of the pace I had to set to descend from the mountains, all because of you," it said, and yet, didn't sound resentful at all; there wasn't an ounce of malice for Neugieri to find. Never had been. "I may as well make use of you this way to use up the remains as effectively as I can; it makes sense, no?"

Neugieri, once again compelled, spoke up. A breath went ragged on the way out and was smoothed before it reached the word.

"It does."

The demon just nodded happily at that.

"It's good that you understand. Originally, I was upset about your group in the mountains spotting us at such a critical time, so much effort went into controlling those monsters, surveying the area for the best invasion spot, sabotaging the camp to clear the path… almost a year of preparation gone due to bad timing." it shrugged helplessly, "But I really can't complain, seeing that I've gotten you out of that ordeal." The demon pointed towards Neugieri, and enchanted shapes etched into the steel collar that was fixed to the mental mage's neck ignited with sickly purple light, "It's rare, but sometimes for reasons I never managed to replicate or crack, Auserlese can briefly fail. That's why I have Versklaver serve me. His enchantments can freeze anyone on whom Auserlese fails, until my magic re-establishes its hold… so far, it has managed to contain the rare failures. Still, it doesn't take a genius to see possible problems; it's not a perfect solution, the enchantment of his needs one of us to notice Auserlese fail to be activated," the demon explained, with a tone of a mage discussing a simple issue with the working of their spell. "But now, with you, I see an even better way to mitigate it until I can isolate and solve the issue! I won't need Versklaver to waste the effort maintaining those enchantments anymore either! The humans can still be alive, still shout and scream and beg, and make other humans hesitate, but they won't even be conscious, so they can't exploit those odd gaps when Auserlese malfunctions. That only happened with conscious humans before, after all," the demon explained enthusiastically, nodding in agreement to its own words, "Having you around will solve so many issues. I will be able to field living puppets without the only real risk of having them!" The demon pointed at Hanseln, "So don't worry, you are nothing like him or the others. I won't kill you. Moreover, I will go as far as helping you with your magic, if you want me to. I am sure that with my help, you will be an even greater mage. The very first human and elf mages learned magic like this from us demons, you know? At least that's what the Demon King said." The demon tilted its head, "See, just because I am a demon and you a human doesn't mean we have to hate each other, at least, the Demon King thinks so, and even though I don't fully understand, I don't mind trying to see what he means for a… I want to say four decades? How long do you humans usually live?"

The demon sounded so proud of itself, so casual. What Neugieri felt back had gone cold days ago: hatred with the heat gone out of it, and beneath that the helplessness, quiet and bottomless.

Once she would have screamed, or tried to. The want was still in her somewhere, gone faint and far down, like everything else. The chains did not even need to tighten; invisible, intangible, more real than steel, they only had to be there.

"Humans can die from old age as young as sixty, and some can live a hundred years," Neugieri found herself explaining instead, before once again feeling a tug on her soul, "I myself am in my late twenties."

"Then I was right, more or less. You humans do grow your initial mana reserves so quickly once you are past the first steps of learning to shape mana, so it's a bit hard to judge," the demon said emphatically, "Were you a demon, I would estimate you to be in your late fifties, in terms of raw power." Neugieri really wanted to kill that creature. "But in terms of skill with magic, you are probably second only to me amongst my forces. It's very impressive, you should be proud," the demon advised, sounding heartfelt.

"I… I was," Neugieri said, stumbling briefly.

The Greater Demon stood up, smiling.

"Good! You will be again once you stop trying to compare yourself to me. Schrägstrich!" The tall demon who was standing not far away, covered in a cloak, turned to his mistress, bending the knee. "Bring her something to eat, do remember that humans eat their meat seared but not quite blackened. You know what I prefer," it ordered.

Neugieri knew what that monster preferred; it was thighs.

"Continue, but a bit slower, I want to try and catch what you are doing, maybe I'll have something productive to offer," the demon ordered, inching closer, "You'll have plenty more to work on."

Neugieri turned back to Hanseln. His face looked so peaceful, yet sickly.

She couldn't beg, was ordered 'not to distract Aura with meaningless begging and pleading', yet now that she knew that this demon was proposing some sort of favours…

"Lady Aura," she spoke quietly, her lips so incredibly dry, her tone growing respectful for the first time as she pleaded from the heart, "I wish only to request to not send this man forth; it would mean a lot to me."

Neugieri glanced towards the pink-haired demon, who heard her, and immediately waved her concern away.

"That's impossible, if half the things you've told me about him are true, he is probably the most effective puppet I have." The talking monster seemingly paused, tilting its head to the side as it studied Neugieri's face, "If you are asking because he is your mate, don't worry, after the battle, you can choose any human you like out of the survivors and just use them instead." Something must have shown on Neugieri's face, as the demon blinked, "...and if I am missing something here, I suppose you can just make children with him now. It's a bit of a bother, but not a real problem," it offered, smiling encouragingly and friendlily.

For just a brief moment, Neugieri's body began to shake all over, before she felt even that reaction robbed of her, as strength returned to her limbs and clarity to the fog of despair and black rage in her mind.

"I understand," Neugieri found herself saying, before turning to Hanseln.

There wasn't anything she could do. Not with this monster.

Unable to resist meaningfully in body or mind… she finally understood the priests.

As she started to do her work, she prayed in the privacy of her own mind.

***

Zaudern,

"That's far enough," the old enchanter said, patting the shoulder of the young man helping him along, "No piles of snow to slow me down from here on out, and I think I can brave those stairs just fine myself."

Münzen didn't look so sure at Zaudern's assurance, rightly suspecting his master and grandfather of not being entirely honest.

He would be right, too.

"Master I…"

Zaudern, however, didn't wish to listen.

"Come, run along, we've said our farewells already," the old enchanter rumbled, taking a moment to look into the younger man's eyes, "You've already stayed longer than I would have liked. Take the next convoy out, stop making me worry that you will do something stupid."

Münzen's brows furrowed.

"With all due respect, I don't think you are in a place to criticize," he noted, making Zaudern snort just a bit… he did have a point after all, "Master I…" He paused, "No, grandfather, please cease this foolishness," he asked quietly, "Master Mittelmäßig and master Istegal are staying too; they can bring the golems to combat just fine. You can't just…" His voice slipped into something high-pitched as the young man glanced aside, wiping his glasses, "...you can't just throw away your life like this, please. I need you."

It was that last quiet admission that made Zaudern's usual stern gaze soften, and his own eyes grow a bit mistier, not that the lad who was looking aside noticed.

The old man stepped closer and gently took Münzen's hand; it was a shockingly tender, weak gesture.

Only when holding onto his grandfather's hand did Münzen notice how those hands, which in his childhood he remembered being so steady, were shaking lightly, and barely had any strength at all.

"There isn't a way out for me," Zaudern simply said, meeting his grandchild's eyes, "I am old, Münzen. A few more years is probably all I have. I'm not sure I could make the journey even if I tried," he said quietly, softly, bringing no attention to Münzen's tears, "It is alright. I've been dreaming of something like this ever since I was a child, being able to do it now, in my advanced age…" He laughed, honestly and infectiously, and the sound was guttural and a bit weak. "The priests just may have a point with their boring preachings. The Goddess does listen."

Münzen looked at him, took a breath as he wiped his face, speaking up again.

"You don't have to fight here; you've already done so much. No one would ever demand more from you," he said quietly, his voice pleading, "Please, grandfather, even your friend Glühen left, and unlike you, he is a dwarf, in the prime of his youth. You…"

It was then that Zaudern interrupted him.

"Glühen is a smith. He has strong hands, but he understands nothing of combat," the old enchanter said, his voice serious, "Unlike me, he never even bothered hiring combat instructors. That man couldn't care less for adventure ever since Eigen left," The enchanter chuckled weakly, "Granted, I never put much of those skills to practice either, I…" Zaudern froze before shaking his head, "No, forgive me for rambling your ears off." He glanced warmly into his grandson's eyes, "You might not understand it, but I am needed here. I probably know and understand more about golems than anyone else."

Münzen opened his mouth to argue, but his old master merely brought his free hand up, and the man hesitated.

"I am sorry for putting you in this situation," he said quietly, "To have your old master stay and fight even as he forces you to run. I did a terrible thing to your pride as a man." Again, he squeezed his grandson's hand before he could respond, "But little Mün, I can only stay and fight because I know you will go. I am not deciding to die; this is me deciding how I want to live, this is me knowing I'm not throwing my life away, that I can make a difference here."

Zaudern glanced away, allowing his grandson some privacy, even as the man was wracked with sobs.

He understood, and also felt his eyes wet. He knew he could never replace Münzen's father, not when he himself was always so busy, so caught up in his own work, but maybe he hadn't done such a terrible job of it after all.

"I need to answer the summons now. Don't worry, I do not intend to die tonight, not if I can help it. So leave, and keep making me proud," he said softly, squeezing the boy's hand one last time, before turning around and continuing down the main road, the only one cleaned of snow as of now.

Not looking back was a deliberate choice, and a hard one on the old mage, but as always in his life, he merely did things the best way he knew. Not perfect, perhaps, but as well as his own mortal hands could manage.

And Zaudern felt the fear well. One might think that as you grow older, the fear of death recedes, but that wasn't the case in Zaudern's own experience. Life was the juiciest, most addictive fruit; everyone must despair when they can see that they almost ate it all up, but it seems men and women across the ages put on a brave face for the sake of those they loved. How else would the myth of a dignified old people, prepared to die, be conjured?

Everyone must have been afraid all the time; it was merely Zaudern's turn now. Perhaps that was why courage was so awe-inspiring.

Zaudern wanted to do that too, and fool at least his grandson into believing that he was fearless and dignified in his choice.

The adventurer's hall was a familiar spot, and a servant, one of the bürgermeister's helpers who had not yet evacuated, was polite enough to help him with the stairs.

Zaudern wasn't surprised when he arrived at an already active discussion. As the door opened, everyone present grew silent.

He glanced around, at a room much changed since the council had first crowded into it. The clerks' tables stood bare against the walls, their papers and the men who kept them gone with the convoys; the little side table that had held water and bread for the council had been carried off whole, put to better use on a cart. Only what the fighting needed had stayed: the long table and its maps, the wooden markers still clustered south along the passes, a straightedge and a pair of dividers left where a hand had set them down. The lanterns on their iron stands burned fewer than before, their cold light making the emptied room feel larger and colder than it was; past the shuttered window the evacuation went on without them, the rattle of carts and the complaint of draft animals carrying faintly through the wood. Where the place had been thick with clerks and helpers when he last stood in it, only the few who meant to stay remained.

The old enchanter chuckled at the attention, immediately waving it away.

"Don't mind me, continue as you were. I'll have one of mine relay whatever I have missed," he said, nodding towards both Mittelmäßig and Istegal, who were also older, distinguished enchanters in his guild whom he invited from the adventurers' guild decades ago.

"...as I've been saying," Stolz spoke up again, glancing around to make sure he was heard, "Without the Lord and his men, we will have a harder time forming a proper defensive line. Frankly, we don't have the people."

"And yet," Hexe, by whose side Zaudern decided to stand, spoke up, gesturing towards a familiar, a bird of some sort, that sat motionless on the table, "Albert's warning is clear; we can't afford to face the demons separately, even if our job is merely to stall for time. Demons naturally have a better-attuned mana sense than anyone here," she said, glancing around, and receiving a nod from the head priest when their eyes met, "That means the demons will be able to gang up on the strongest of us and eliminate them. The only way to counter that is to form a unified frontline."

It was Berg who chuckled, speaking up.

"While I like the enthusiasm, lass, I don't think ye understand what ye're proposin'. Here we have hunters, warriors, mages, priests," he said, gesturing around towards the assembled people, and there were many of those.

All told, those who could fight at the level needed came to just over four dozen men. The stronger adventurers, priests capable of using powerful divine magic, the elites of the guard, such as they were, and everyone who was useful were there.

"...we all know how to fight, but do we know how to fight as an army? Especially when we compete against the squads of undead and still livin' demon-controlled puppets with perfect synchronization, and demons who can afford to cut us straight through 'em?" Berg said meaningfully, "Clampin' all together is a terrible choice; we're at a disadvantage if we do that. Ye never fight a monster in a position where ye're at a disadvantage."

Zaudern could somewhat follow the discussion, despite apparently missing the report from Albert himself; he felt briefly annoyed, as he didn't know how many enemies they were talking about, for one.

"It's a conundrum," Zaudern's head snapped towards the familiar as it spoke in Albert's voice. What… what sort of spell was that? Why didn't Albert share this enchantment before? Zaudern would've killed to be able to speak through a damn bird! "In truth, all of you merely staying alive won't be enough for us to win. Our only chance is if I can face Aura more or less unobstructed by her servants, and for that, I need you to mount a capable defence that would require her to commit all of her forces," the elf explained, the voice sounding from the bird not much different from his usual monotone, "Most of the people present here are adventurers and elite combatants who are more used to working in small groups. In an urban environment, it would be best to avoid friendly fire." The Hermit paused, "But I'm coming up short on an actual solution. The demons that serve Aura aren't foolish, nor are they weak; instead of spreading out the moment they realize you are divided into small groups across the city, they will merely strike you as a unified fist. I don't know how to make them break the formation."

Now Zaudern was starting to understand what he had missed, and hearing that, he couldn't help but speak up for himself.

"Isn't that obvious? If you want the demons to engage specific targets, they need to have a reason beyond 'those are humans too'," Zaudern explained the obvious: "It's very much like any war game; no one is foolish enough to attack pieces that don't matter to whether you win or lose."

As he found himself at the center of attention, Zaudern coughed in his fist.

"We only really want the enemy elites away from mass combat, don't we?" he clarified rhetorically, addressing Albert through the familiar, "Don't know how many puppets that Aura still has, but tying most of them up is only possible with a strong avant-garde. Naturally, that means the majority of ours will have to be in it. So, we need a couple of smaller elite groups to be enough of an annoyance to the demons' main force that they send their own elites to deal with it, away from the main battle."

The bird tilted its head.

"What do you propose exactly?" Albert asked him.

"Have most of the golems leak their mana connection directly to me, have me positioned away from the main fighting force with whoever will be in a party of mine," Zaudern explained simply, "If the golems will serve enough of a nuisance, naturally…"

"Demons will come to assassinate ye. I like that," Berg said, sounding approving, before pausing, "Eh, that came out wrong."

A few chuckles rang out across the room as Berg awkwardly scratched his beard.

"It works for the big toys," Fährte, the hunter corps' captain of the guard spoke up, sounding, as many dwarves usually did, incredibly grouchy, "The issue is, who else can attract that sort of attention? The only actual battle-mage who can cast spells that matter across the city is the one who needs us to distract the enemies away from him," he stressed, "Who else can we use as bait? Our priests? That would be a slaughter."

The aforementioned priests broke into indignant exchanges before being silenced by Fromm, with a single gesture of his hand.

The old man in a church robe looked as dignified as ever, considering the words directed at him.

"If it's what is required of us, we can serve the Goddess this way," he spoke, much to the… considerable surprise of his followers, "But it would take time for the demons to notice where the wounded are brought, and it's the time we don't have, from what I've been led to believe."

The bird nodded its beak towards the priest.

"Correct. Lord Standhaft's last stand damaged Aura's puppet army to an incredible extent, but they are still superior to you in numbers and raw power, if not by a lot," he explained, glancing around. "You can't afford to have the priests be positioned that far away merely as bait. You need every bit of power engaged, or the line breaks and crumbles under the pressure like a failing dam."

It was at this point that the room exploded with suggestions, murmurs, and rare shouts.

For a while, there was pandemonium.

Zaudern dug a finger in his ear; he honestly hated this. Who even invited all those nobodies in the room to be a part of this discussion?

**Dang!**

The clang of a small buckler being struck rang out across the room, making the people glance towards the perpetrator, who happened to be…

"Gentlemen, there is a solution here you are not seeing." Ahnungslos, of course, sounded about as smug as he always was. Zaudern was surprised to even see the toad; he expected him to be gone with the caravans.

"And what's that, Bürgermeister?" Berg practically spat out, "Ye have a moment o' enlightenment in the matters o' warfare and tactics?"

A few chuckled, wrung out, but the Bürgermeister merely smiled, nodding simply.

"Yes, actually, I believe I do," he said, ignoring the dwarf whose face grew redder with anger as he addressed the public, "The solution is right here," he said, pointing at himself with his index finger.

For a while, there was complete and total silence.

Ahnungslos studied his audience, and seeing mostly confusion and incomprehension, he sighed before elaborating.

"We know that the demons have sneaked in before, and even sabotaged our armories of all things. That means they did a certain amount of reconnaissance, especially if, as the Headmaster said, they took hostages to question," he explained simply, walking forward, until he stopped near the colossal makeshift table in the middle of the room, on which Albert's familiar resided, "Naturally, it means they know me. Or at least of me. They know I am the leader of this city." He turned towards Albert's familiar, "Tell us, master elf, what are the chances that knowledge will push them to target me?"

For a moment, the hall drowned in silence, as Albert must have considered the question.

"Normally, the strongest demons lead. It's the most instinctual order of things for them," he explained, "But the demons you will be facing will be a century old or older, they will understand that the same isn't necessarily true for humans. However, because of that higher understanding of what humans are and how they function… they may target you to destroy the morale as they understand it." Albert paused, "I am genuinely unsure; it's incredibly difficult to predict such a thing."

Bürgermeister merely lifted an eyebrow.

"Now, that is a surprise. You've seemed so certain that this 'Aura' will stand back out of caution, yet your predictions start to fail regarding others in her group… well, it's an easily solvable issue," he said, shaking his head, as he pointed at the familiar, "Magic me an instrument that lets me issue orders from a place away from the battlefield and make it traceable." The pudgy man smiled, and it wasn't a pleasant expression. "I have a feeling they may just bite."

He glanced around.

"And if we know the targets that the elite will attempt to strike at… we can have them intercepted on the way much more consistently. That way, the demons themselves can be dragged away from their slave army… or the demons who matter, in any case."

"Excuse me for my bluntness, Bürgermeister," Zaudern spoke up, glancing at the man with honest incomprehension, "But you do realize that you are orchestrating a situation where it will be you, whoever is by your side… and the strongest demons the enemy forces have to offer?"

Ahnungslos turned towards the old enchanter and smiled, opening up his doublet and revealing… chainmail beneath.

Chainmail, the enchantment of which Zaudern instantly recognized.

"I believe I may just surprise you," he offered, "Besides, you are saying this as if you wouldn't be the one by my side, master Zaudern." The Bürgermeister chuckled, "Separately we might be ignored… but together in the same place? Not a chance. Making your golems carry my voice should also be much easier than making some trinket from scratch, wouldn't it be?"

Zaudern practically recoiled; his first instinct was to deny and disagree, but… the fat man had a point.

"Now-now, maybe instead o' doin' somethin' right crazy such as this, we should instead…" It was Berg who spoke up, prompting the discussion onward.

Zaudern felt his bones itch, and yet, he resolved himself to stay here and provide whatever advice he could.

After all, they still had hours before the demons would be here. As Albert shared later, they would almost certainly attack after nightfall.

***

Hexe,

It wasn't particularly difficult to note when the fight had begun. The signal spell that the adventurer mage had described to everyone during the planning sailed into the sky like a green comet, screeching and crackling and wailing.

It was disconcerting to the alchemist that she couldn't feel the battlefield from this distance, nor hear it in truth. There were occasional sounds, but mostly she only heard the wind. This was not how she had imagined a siege. But then again, few sieges were waged a hundred against a hundred.

A dwarf shifted by her side slightly, a plank creaking under his feet, that much neither of them acknowledged.

Nor did they speak.

Despite Hexe's lips feeling drier than they had ever been, they couldn't afford to speak, for that could make the ambush less effective, and a great deal was staked on the ambushers.

The plan was relatively simple. Albert had counted the number of enemy elites, demons who were at least older than a century, by his own reckoning. Apparently, Aura had no shortage of lesser demons serving under her - their young, so to speak, but the armoured boor's forces had cut down the greater part of the demons' 'talented youth', and yet couldn't lay a hand on the elite.

Any demon a century or so old would be a challenge for talented, well-drilled adventuring parties. Naturally, any single human warrior, unless they happened to be some hero out of legend, would lose when facing one such monster alone, and that is precisely what befell Standhaft.

And so, the idea of the ambushes was developed in full, and everyone contributed what knowledge they had.

First were the Valley Guard Commander and Ahnungslos, who happened to know the city's streets almost by heart.

It was decided for Zaudern and the Bürgermeister to set up in the Rathaus; not only was its garden and the surrounding square spacious enough for Zaudern to haul out and array his golems, but it was also far enough from the avant-garde to wholly isolate the demons who came for it.

It helped that the Rathaus was in the old Sturmkamm - the original town before its second and third waves of expansions, and as such, surrounded by a tall wall that would additionally stop Aura, should she be watching, from witnessing what passed within.

It was as much of a bait as it was an invitation, and a play on demonic pride, as Albert insisted that such a thing existed and was a lever they might turn to their advantage.

On the way towards the Rathaus, the true traps were set. Ambush spots, as perfect as they could make them to assassinate the demons before they could so much as begin to answer - a means of clawing out the advantage.

Hexe herself produced concoctions to cover the smell of the ambushers. Zaudern apparently had opened up the vault of his guild and had magical items of different potencies stacked all around the city, and especially around the ambush spots, to make it difficult for demons to spot anyone hiding, and Fährte helped pick up the spots that would be hidden best from the sky… countless others also did what they could.

Which led both Hexe and Berg here.

It still bewildered the alchemist that she had ended up amongst the Sturmkamm's elite, but Albert assured her - and everyone else - that her combat abilities were more than sufficient.

Hexe herself… wasn't so sure. Oh, she was proud of the acknowledgement, of course, and logically, she knew that the fighting style Albert had her develop would be an awkward thing for most to answer, and yet, it still did not sit quite right with her.

She was afraid, of course, and beneath that, eager. There weren't many times in her life when she had to fight in earnest rather than spar, so her blood ran hot in her veins.

"Golems are in the fight," Berg said quietly, the dwarf's eyes still closed, his expression focused to the extreme, "Nothing yet." She couldn't feel it, but knew that the man was augmenting his hearing with mana to the extreme.

Apparently, a rather basic trick for the hunters. And according to Albert, a trick demons could use instinctively.

Seeing that the silence was broken by the man's whisper, Hexe quietly responded in kind.

"Lower your mana more, your control is slipping," she ordered quietly, and in the dwarf's defence… he tried, adjusting wordlessly.

It was a rare and welcome surprise to learn that the dwarf had a background as a hunter and, as such, knew such simple yet essential tricks to hide his presence. It helped that the man was probably the most formidable frontline fighter the city had left.

"Lass, don't be nervous, ye can do it," the dwarf assured in a whisper, briefly opening his eyes to glance at her, his breath visible in the cold night air, even in the darkness of the belltower, and despite the nightvision potion they had drank from the Valley Guard's stock. "If ye don't believe in yer own skill, believe in Albert's judgement. He's never wrong 'bout these things."

Only then did Hexe notice that her glove-covered hands were shaking briefly as they rested on the small table that was between them. Berg felt this much?

It was the complete trust and assurance in the dwarf's voice that almost made Hexe chuckle. That man, the Headmaster of hers… was truly a terrifying demon, was he not? To deceive so many for so long…

And yet…

"You are right," she answered quietly, breathing out and focusing inwards.

This was fine, she will manage, everyone will. She won't die here, not in such a stupid way, not when she finally found a way forth.

It was, she had to admit, a good place to wait. The bell hung in the dark above them, a great cold weight of bronze and the room beneath it was hardly a room at all, a box of stone scarcely wider than the two of them and the little table between. The window was no larger than a loophole, set deep in walls as thick as her arm was long, so that even with the shutter gone there was almost nothing for anyone outside to make out; from the air, the opening would be no more than a darker notch in a dark tower. Nor was there any shortage of mana to hide behind. A cathedral that provided healing tended to have a mana signature of its own, slightly altered by constant use of Goddess' Magic, and Zaudern had handed them a box of minor items without restraint, which Berg and Hexe ended up setting everywhere until the whole tower and the grunder building beneath hummed against the alchemist's senses with so many smaller mana signatures that hers and Berg's were lost somewhere in the din. Her concoctions saw to the rest; it was less of her potion masking their smells under something else - that would be a touch too obvious - and more erasing smells altogether in an area. 

Through the window, the city fell away, roofs and chimneys and the dark line of the walls beyond, and over all of it the open sky. That was the reason for the height. A demon on the wing would pass up there, level with the cathedral or above it, and with nothing in its way, and from this cramped dark window, she and Berg would see it long before it thought to look for them.

She let her breath out, slow and even. 

Then she felt, more than she saw, the dwarf by her side tensing up, and a second later gently tugging on her sleeve.

She didn't say anything; she could sense it too, three mana signatures quickly approaching through the sky.

The bottle in her hands felt heavy.

Finally, she knew they were close enough, and could even swear she saw the three demons fly in the distance.

So, she acted.

Her mana was unleashed within an instant, and the spell was woven just as quickly, taking hold of the concoction inside the bottle.

In an instant, bright, azure flames ignited and then exploded in a direct cone from where she sat, in a line towards the flying demons, burning through the wall and the window of the belltower's brickwork.

"Berg!" she called out to the dwarf, who jumped away from the line of fire, and he understood her without words, grabbing her in a bridal carry, and jumping down towards the ground, where Hexe felt much safer than in the brittle tower from which she couldn't even escape due to height.

As Berg landed, the two demon bodies fell to the ground, burning and gurgling, purple flame clinging to their bodies and devouring them even as they still lived.

Yet, the third one…

The third one looked untouched. It was a human-looking demon, but with a nose just a bit too sharp, and teeth that looked like daggers and protruded from his mouth. A pair of curved, ram-like horns protruded from his grey hair.

Despite that, the monster was dressed in armour, and descended slowly with his arms behind his back, six longswords just… floating around him at an arm's length, all directed towards them.

Some of the flames were clinging to his enchanted armour and… just fell to the ground uselessly in clumps before extinguishing.

Hexe wanted to curse. Just her luck, finding the only demon actually wearing armour not made out of their own mana, and having the 'fortune' to sneak attack him.

"Impressive attack, can't say I've seen an attack magic of this sort," he said, his voice soft and feminine. "Lesser demons stood no chance and couldn't react at all."

He didn't even spare a glance towards his burning compatriots, nor did he expend any effort trying to extinguish the flame.

He was right to do so, even if he was wrong about the flame being an attack spell. The flame produced by this nameless recipe of hers was ravenous for the solid-mana bodies of monsters with cores, indeed, the only fuel it would take. Touching the flame for a demon was generally ill-advised.

Though Albert showed her a dozen ways to deal with it, revealing and stress testing its limits.

"I expected this to at least wound you, too," Hexe engaged. She knew that demons were prideful for their magic, and, fundamentally, the goal was to stall for time: "My name is Hexe, the Provost and Alchemist of DAMN." She saw no reason to hide this, knowing she likely was already recognized.

The demon smiled; with his monstrous teeth, it looked bloodthirsty.

"I know," he said, confirming Albert's intel that Neugieri was left alive for interrogation, not that Hexe had any doubts, "And by your side must be Berg, the legendary warrior of the mountain clans who is over two centuries old." He looked at the dwarf before chuckling, "I am Versklaver, the Slaver."

He gestured, and the six swords around him moved with sharp, blistering speeds, rearranging in some other formation, even as the mage landed on the ground, in an odd stance, half-turned towards them, and hiding his right hand from their sight by his own body.

"If ye know who I am," Berg spoke up slowly, lifting up his axe and resting it on his shoulder, "Are ye sure ye want to take this fight? Out o' everyone in this city… I'm likely the second strongest," the dwarf said easily, and Hexe couldn't help but be surprised that he had the same thought.

He also must have known that speaking with a demon was, as a rule, futile, and yet, he was supporting this conversation now, purely to buy time. This was a subtlety one did not look for in a dwarf so plainspoken.

Claiming second was a serviceable lie besides, as it implied Albert was here.

"That is true for me as well," Versklaver said simply. "The two of you can always just surrender; you will be treated humanely," the demon offered, his voice sounding sincere.

Berg just chuckled humorlessly at that.

The demon briefly closed his eyes.

"It is always the same with those who pursue raw violence," he said, sounding regretful, "I am an artist by trade, let me show you my work."

"Form two," the demon said, gesturing towards Hexe and Berg, and the pair of swords exploded from behind his back and flew towards the pair, with such speed that it produced a sound that rattled windows and made the air ripple.

Neither blade reached them.

Berg who stood a little in front of the alchemist just a moment prior moved, and for an instant Hexe lost him; there was only a bright shriek of metal, a gust that lifted grit off the cobbles, and then the dwarf stood a pace to her left with his axe already lowered and both swords that had been meant for the two of them tumbling away across the square's cobblestone. Yet, they did not clatter dead; they slowed as they slid across cobblestone, then lifted, turned in the air, and came drifting back to fold into the ring still wheeling about the demon.

Hexe registered the sound of impact only afterwards; it was deafening, and what must have been two strokes to beat both swords from the air had sounded as one. 

The demon paid the returning blades no mind. He held two fingers out, gesturing sharply, and three swords again shot out, slower, sweeping this time. Berg moved again, this time approaching the demon.

Hexe could barely follow that.

Taking a deep breath, she gestured, a ring briefly flaring on her hand as a foci, and three scythes of compressed mana shot forth. Not to intercept the swords - Hexe strongly suspected this attack spell she was forced to learn under Albert would fall short - but at the demon himself.

Versklaver spared her a glance and, with the same hand gestured again, three sharp moves, and two other swords came from behind his back, and crossed in front of him, protecting him from Hexe's attack.

At the same time, the dwarf had impacted the swords sent forth to cut him down.

One was deflected to the side with such strength that the dwarf rotated around his axis in the air and impacted the second from above, while ducking the third, before in a fit of agility, twisting himself and kicking it away, all to dash again towards the demon, barely slowing down.

Versklaver did not so much as glance after the blades. Instead, an instant before the dwarf was upon him, he raised a hand, almost idle, and the remaining sword dropped into his open palm, and then he was simply there, inside Berg's reach, and the night came apart into noise.

Hexe could not follow that. Two shapes, the dwarf and the demon, traded blows at the very edge of what her eyes could hold, axe and longsword meeting again and again in cracks she felt in her teeth, each one shoving out a hard ring of air that pulled at her coat.

The provost of the DAMN knew her limits; she knew that she had no idea how to fight in a party, nor was she used to combat, interfering with this could spell Berg's doom.

So instead, almost instantly, she prepared the attack spell again, ready to cover the dwarf's retreat the moment he chose to.

Berg, meanwhile, managed to push the demon out of his odd stance and back a few steps before taking a thunderous step that cracked the ground, clearly going for a finishing blow.

The demon grinned, and the two swords that hovered by his side shot out towards the dwarf without a gesture at all.

Berg, however, as if having eyes on his back, dashed backwards just in time, seemingly dodging the surprise attack and breaking distance once again.

Hexe immediately shot the mana slashes, distracting the demon just enough that he couldn't comfortably push his advantage.

"Huh." The dwarf slid across the ground, his back to Hexe, taking a defensive position to shield her, yet, using his other hand to check his side, "That sword clipped me through the armour," he said, voice clinical, "Cut well into the muscles."

That put Hexe on her guard at once, as indeed, all six swords were enchanted with unknown effects.

"Nothing serious," the dwarf rumbled, "A proper warrior can keep fightin' missin' half his body."

"Marvelous," The demon, meanwhile, clapped slowly, "I've faced demon generals before; they are those of us in the service to the king who are more inclined toward martial pursuits… You would be quite impressive even by those standards!" the demon said, tilting its head.

"Are you certain you wish to continue this? If you do, you will die," the creature said.

Again, all six swords started to slowly spin behind the demon; it no longer cared to pretend it needed gestures to use them. 

Instead, it took a step forward, then another, slowly approaching them across the square.

"I can tell both of you are holding back some things, but it doesn't matter. I've yet to use any of the enchantments on most of my artifacts and," The demon chuckled, sounding almost regretful, "I am afraid I am an enchanter by trade, not a warrior. Think what it means for your chances."

It happened in an instant. The demon was slowly approaching, its smile growing wider, when suddenly, at terrifying speeds, Berg suddenly turned his back towards the demon, a warning 'Hexe' on his lips, as he rushed towards the alchemist with his axe prepared.

Yet, even startled, somehow she knew the dwarf wasn't out for her blood. So when she saw the smirking demon releasing a sword with another sonic boom like an arrow at the dwarf's back…

That one had been fast, faster than anything she had seen, and she had still felt it leave the demon's back and thrown the boundary up before it crossed half the distance. Saphir Grenze bloomed blue. The spell that Albert, the annoying man that he was, drilled into her despite all of her protests, saying it would save her life one day, even as she tried explaining that she wasn't planning to see combat in her life.

It looked like a disk of transparent and translucent mana igniting in the dark, its two rings spinning against one another with a high-pitched buzz.

The blade bit into the outer ring, was caught between the layers, and flung wide into the night, and the shield gave itself up for it and broke into a scatter of fading motes, making the sword fly off, much to the demon's mild surprise.

It was only then that Hexe realised she was looking at… a sword, mere centimetres from her neck. Blocked by an axe.

"I know this move," the dwarf rambled, his voice strained, as he pushed, "Ye're a century too early to challenge me even at yer best, boy!"

Mana exploded from the tip of the dwarf's axe, forcing the armoured figure he was fighting back…

Meanwhile, the demon simply observed, folding his hands behind his back, Hexe's own eyes focused on him, as she knew Berg was focused on one of Aura's slaves.

And then, Hexe froze.

"What's… going on? Berg… is that you?" the voice of the armoured figure answered, sounding… lost, afraid, hurt, the words slightly slurred, "I don't… don't feel so good… Berg… please help me Berg…"

She could see it. How Berg himself froze, his eyes growing misty.

It was in that instant that both the demon and Hanseln attacked.

The alchemist grit her teeth, and once again conjured a shield, then another one, then another, all to try and intercept the blades sent at her and the dwarf.

She couldn't see what Berg did, but could tell the exchange of blows was vicious, and that the knight must have used some of his minor magic, judging by how his blade shone with blue light.

Hexe was snapped out of this as her third shield popped, and she barely had the time to dodge to the side and send a trio of slashes at the demon, who merely covered himself with his hands, letting her attack harmlessly splash against his armour.

"You are annoying," the demon said, eying her, "I know you can still use that fire spell, you have enough mana, it's pointless to try to fool me," he explained, tilting his head, "Without it you clearly don't stand a chance," he said, once again slashing with one of the swords, forcing Hexe to raise a shield… and barely able to sway backwards, still feeling the steel cut into the side of her face, "I suppose I can just take my time cutting you up, if you will continue to play this game."

"Hexe!" Berg shouted, before inhaling and winding his axe back, "Thunderclap," he rumbled, bringing the axe down.

Hanseln barely had time to bring up his own sword to defend himself before he was cannonballed away.

The dwarf instantly turned to Hexe, who stumbled back, bloodied and panting.

"Lass, just hang in there, I'll…" Berg said, sounding concerned.

Hexe merely brought her free hand up, palm first, towards the dwarf, her eyes never taken off the demon.

"This boy is dear to you, is he not? You can't afford distractions if you want to hold him occupied until it's time and not die," she said simply, glancing at the dwarf, "Go and take him somewhere else, you two will be in the way."

The dwarf hesitated for a brief moment before nodding quickly.

"Owe you. Good luck."

And then the dwarf rushed after the human whose body was struck through one of the buildings in the square. Soon after, the impacts of the strikes followed, telling Hexe that he must have found him.

"Very noble," the demon said, absent-mindedly scratching his goatee, "But very foolish. Once I kill you, I will naturally kill the dwarf. You should have fought as a group, even if your synergy is terrible."

In response, Hexe laughed; it was a quiet, dark sound, even as she shook her head.

"No… no he would very much be in the way, he and especially Hanseln," she said, undoing a string on her shoulder, and letting the bag she carried drop to the ground.

She gestured with a finger, throwing back the cover with mild application of telekinetic force, revealing rows of enchanted bottles to the demon, who lifted an eyebrow.

"Potions?" he asked, sounding unsure, "Are you trying to say you give up and offer this to me to spare you, Alchemist? You can't possibly think we've come for alchemical supplies again." He said, tilting his head to the side.

The woman just shook her head as she wiped the blood from her forehead, having no idea what he was talking about. She ignored it.

She also found relief in the knowledge that the cut wasn't deep.

"You were talking an awful lot about your enchantments and making fun of my combat magic… you aren't wrong, it's not my strongest suit," Hexe shot the demon a confident smile, tilting her head, "I am an alchemist after all," she said, her pride evident.

The demon merely stared at her for a few seconds, as if trying to solve a puzzle.

"I really don't understand humans," he commented, as if to himself, before pointing for the swords to fly away from him, and surround Hexe, tips towards her, "Perish."

The alchemist merely grinned wider, before pointing up with two fingers, emulating the demon.

It happened in an instant, as the swords that flew towards her to pierce suddenly impacted a barrier that wasn't there before.

It wasn't a blue shield; rather, it was a metallic-coloured barrier that formed almost circularly around the alchemist.

Then a whip of liquid shot towards the demon, who flew back, recalling his swords after him.

The shield around the alchemist dissolved a second later, turning into the droplets of the liquid… that floated in the air.

"What is this?" he questioned, flying, his eyes now completely focused on Hexe, the previous mocking - gone.

The provost stood there grinning, blood still partially smudged across her beautiful face, as a thin line of floating liquid was coiling around her like a serpent, flowing from one of the bigger bottles.

"You demons don't know much about alchemy, do you?" Hexe asked, almost rhetorically, stepping forward, and each of the bottles floated out of her bag and started to levitate around her, "Albert theorized as much. Your kind doesn't know sickness, can naturally see in the dark, and doesn't need to breathe. You have so many natural advantages over us humans that you would never turn to magical means of relief to some of those weaknessess, which is the root of alchemy. Your magic is so individualistic after all, reducing it to a recipe must be counterintuitive to your kind…" Hexe concluded.

The demon flew higher, swords behind him forming an odd pattern: three in front, two around him, one behind.

"What's your point?" it asked, sounding genuinely curious.

"My point," Hexe said slowly, as the bottles around her started to crack, before exploding.

A dozen liquids of different colours started to flow around her as she smiled.

"...is that you should heed your own warning. Six unknown enchantments for your swords, maybe more considering the oddness of demonic magic, and a few for your armour, is that right?" Hexe questioned, giggling, "That is the scary amount of unknowns. But how well can you imagine yourself winning against an entire branch of magic you know nothing about? Only in this bag I had twenty-three concoctions, and you can't even begin to guess what each one does, can you?" Hexe asked, her voice turning to frost.

Flüssigkeitskontrolle - this was the combat spell Albert insisted she must master.

A spell that allowed the caster to control any liquid that was imbued with their own mana. Naturally, all Hexe's potions and concoctions were to some extent; though, that would not have been enough.

One needed to understand the behavior of the liquid in question, be able to visualize it, predict exactly how it would act, and know just how dense and viscous it was, how it would move, and what it was made of.

According to Albert, Hexe's ability to control her own concoctions like that… was something unprecedented, a feat he himself couldn't reproduce.

Only a fool took an alchemist for a village herbalist. She could do a great deal more than potions that one needed to ingest for an effect. Liquids that dissolved flesh, liquid that turned into almost unbreakable material briefly when mana was channeled through them, liquid that ignited with mana, liquid that ate at mana flesh, liquid that flash-froze things on contact, liquid that exploded…

All of that, and more, was currently floating around Hexe, who charmingly smiled at the demon.

"Every woman needs to have a little mystery, don't you know? Let's see if you can compare, abomination."

The demon merely stared at her before closing its eyes.

"This is pointless, you are aware that this little… distraction is known to us, correct?" the demon asked, before snapping its eyes open and looking Hexe in the eyes, "By now, the elf should have confronted Lady Aura, who provided a convenient enough opening, and it's a matter of time until he, too, becomes hers. Once that happens, she will walk into the city herself and kill anyone who still resists." The creature tilted its head, "Naturally, all I need is to stall for time."

Hexe merely frowned, making the liquids change their flows around her.

Demons knowing of their plan with such precision was… disconcerting. Did Albert walk into a trap after all?

Hexe exhaled quietly.

She would just have to trust in Albert again, wouldn't she? After all, she could not imagine that man failing.

"You could do that," Hexe offered, shooting the demon an easy smile, "But your pride will never allow it, will it? A mighty demon over a century old, master of enchantment… waiting to hide under his mistress's skirt, afraid to face a woman in her twenties," Hexe might have lowered her age to make the taunt more biting, and for no other reason.

The demon grinned.

"It's refreshing meeting a mage who understands us so we-"

Both Hexe and Versklaver froze, as they heard the absolutely deafening howl of the wind… and felt it even here, protected as they were by buildings.

And then the faces of both a human mage and a demon were illuminated by a flash of blinding light.

***

Zaudern,

It was hard to miss when the battle started, mostly because Zaudern very much felt a good chunk of the golems keyed in to him activate.

It was annoying beyond belief how many cheap, outright barely functional toys he had to make with Albert to help supplement their fighting force.

It felt like an insult to his craft, having to take every shortcut imaginable, using the most expensive materials to compensate for the speed they had to work at, all to pump out as many generally durable golems as possible.

It was just luck that the trading convoy, which usually took away refined Silberherz and products made of it didn't depart, so they could… appropriate it for their needs, for the competitive price of zero coins.

Zaudern felt bad about handing the majority of the mass-produced scrap toys to his older enchanting masters, and leaving the majority of the unique golems from the tournaments for himself.

That feeling, however, disappeared when he considered what he would soon have to face and how.

Operating a golem made by talented students and amateurs always carried its own problems. There were always specific special tricks, faults that weren't obvious as the creators worked around them, design flaws, and not-obvious strengths.

In the last few days, Zaudern made sure to work on any such issues with an elf by his side and tried to bring the overall control nodes to as much of an equilibrium as possible.

Only made more difficult by the fact that many of the golems had been practically scrapped during the GolemWarrior tournament, and needed extensive repairs.

Of course, all golems currently by Zaudern's side were functional, else he wouldn't have bothered having some of the adventurers help drag them here… but functional didn't mean they worked well, or at least as well as a master enchanter would have wanted.

"While I understand the anxiety," The old mage said slowly, leaning back from a six-legged, almost flat golem he was working on, before shooting a glare towards the Bürgermeister, "Don't you find it too much to drink now?"

The city's master merely spared the enchanter a glance, as he gently swirled the whisky in an ancient bottle Zaudern recognized.

"I have offered you some, have I not?" He asked absent-mindedly, and seeing the annoyance of the old mage, chuckled, "Come now, I am not going to get myself drunk. Besides, no better moment to have a taste. Been saving this damned bottle for over a decade at this point."

The slightly overweight man groaned to himself as he carefully leaned down and placed the bottle by his feet.

Zaudern closed his eyes.

"I've told you this much already, Ahnungslos, but I won't be able to protect you properly. If you wish to hide, you should get to it now." The old enchanter offered without much enthusiasm.

Ahnungslos wasn't a man strongly loved in the city. Wasn't a secret that the Guard was a target of budget cuts, but the craftsmen guilds also disliked the man for his taxation and trade policies, and even a common citizen had its displeasure with harsher regulations on many goods and their own property.

That said, as much as the Bürgermeister was despised for his policies… he still stayed here, instead of running, insisting he had enough warrior training to stand his ground.

No one was sure if that was the truth, or if the man just wanted to die like this, but in any case, no one objected to him staying, especially considering that he was correct when he claimed that he would make a good bait.

"It's noble of you to worry about my health, but I will manage." The man smiled towards the enchanter.

It was then that Zaudern looked towards the sky.

"One is here." He said quietly, pointing in front of them. It was impossible to see from their angle in the gardens of the Rathaus, but the old enchanter felt the demon in the air… just beyond the three-storey building on the opposite side of the square.

The Bürgermeister tensed up by his side, reaching for a round buckler shield and a one-handed hammer that looked almost comical in his hands, looking where Zaudern had pointed.

A second passed, then five, then ten…

"It seems he is waiting for something." The Bürgermeister noted.

"Albert was right, the demons' mana sense is on another level," Zaudern said, frowning, "This means he must be able to distinguish the mana signatures of inactive golems from other magical items we scattered throughout, and grew cautious."

Ahnungslos just shook his head by the enchanter's side.

"We wait then." He stated.

Zaudern shook his head.

"I," He said, stepping on a flat six-legged golem and willing it to rise, lifting up Zaudern in the process, "Don't feel like it."

The old enchanter gestured with his right hand, more for the moment's sake than from any genuine need, and a golem rose from the black soil nearby.

It was a thing styled after a metallic dragon's head carved in impressive detail, and with comically simple hands and feet that the students added, quite literally, a day before the initial design viewing, as they were running out of time.

Luckily, the golem's legs and hands were tertiary in importance in any case.

The golem's 'mouth' opened up, and a crimson flare ignited within, as the 'dragon' looked towards the spot where Zaudern felt the mana signature.

A second, and then a flash, with a thunderous explosion of light and sound.

A fiery beam shot forth, piercing the building, and Zaudern and Ahnungslos just observed as the debris, including parts of the stone wall, heated until it glowed red, fell on the opposite side of the street.

For five tense seconds, they simply observed.

"This," A voice rang out from the small cloud of debris, it sounded wizened and deep, "Was quite pointless."

A demon floated out, absent-mindedly brushing the dust off its shoulders.

It looked human. Beautiful, even. Perfectly symmetrical features, wavy dark hair, pleasant face… only somewhat ruined by four savage horns, protruding from his head in all directions.

The demon was also dressed in a manner Zaudern recognized as an exact copy of the traditional camsoles of the northern aristocracy.

"Agree to disagree," Zaudern offered, his voice a bit hoarse, "This is a fitting greeting to your kind, is it not?"

In truth, the shot was a bit more than merely a show of force and an invitation. It was an explicit warning that Zaudern had the means of attacking the demon at a distance.

The dragon shot had buildup, but the head itself did a surprisingly good job at masking its mana fluctuations. Targeting this golem would be essential for a demon who took refuge in flight, especially because Zaudern just showed that he could hit him across the city if he had to.

"Quite," The demon said, his voice empty, as it landed on the cobblestone, before its eyes had fallen on Ahnungslos, "It was thoroughly unpleasant to know that you still live and rule, Bürgermeister. Why don't you introduce me to your companion?"

It took Zaudern some effort not to follow the demon's provocation and not turn to Ahnungslos.

"Why would I introduce you?" Ahnungslos asked simply, "He is a citizen of my city and a respected, accomplished elder… and you are a drooling fool of a talking monster who fell for i-"

The demon waved his left hand, and a crimson wave of light shot forth, almost too fast to react.

Yet, a golem rose from the ground, this one looking like a humanoid figure with hammer-like hands that it crossed in front of its chest, shielding the Bürgermeister for whom the strike was intended.

The light washed over the golem… and splattered on the ground as blood?

No, Zaudern realized, it was the golem… the golem was bleeding crimson after being struck. And Zaudern, to his shock, could feel the mana reserves in the machine disappearing with it.

Before his eyes, he saw chunks of metal and stone fall to the ground like crumbling, rusting dust, with the blood, golems aging and weakening in front of his eyes.

This… no doubt this magic was a curse.

"Infuriating little man," The demon merely said, visibly holding himself back, and lowering his hand, exhaling, "I apologize, mage, for my lack of manners. I am Mogel the Carnage," He said, executing a perfect bow, "Let us measure our magic against one another."

The demon stood back up, its eyes narrowing.

"The pest by your side will get what it deserves."

It was at those words that a small squad of around ten people walked into the square… and Zaudern instantly recognized their armour.

"Son of a fucking whore, that absolute addle-brained piece of shit of a lordling insists on being a pain in my ass even now!" The man by Zaudern's side raged, "What are our men on the walls doing, letting a force this large pass?!"

The demon merely smiled at that.

"I am afraid the defenders of your walls are preoccupied with the dead, a few living, and many of my younger compatriots," The demon explained pleasantly. "Of course, my compatriots will likely die before the night is over, but not before I behead the snake, so to speak. Besides, whoever survives will be a worthwhile investment for Lady Aura."

Zaudern abandoned caution by this point, gesturing for the golems to come to life.

The golems were of multitudes of shapes and forms, some were designed after monsters, some in more traditional humanoid shapes, some after giant insects, all made of different materials, with different techniques and designs in mind…

All rose from the ground across the park; he couldn't afford to keep them hidden under the soil anymore.

And then he heard it. The moaning, the whispered and confused 'help me', and 'where am I?' echoed from the figures clad in armour, they sounded in pain, confused, lost. This magic that held onto them… truly was an abomination.

The old enchanter already knew this… likely wasn't winnable. Not if Aura's slaves truly lost none of their combat abilities, as Albert insisted.

The best Zaudern could hope for was to stall for time, so that someone else would come to help. The lord and his men, as well as the demon, together… the only choice was to take them all at once.

"I do find it ironic," The demon said, absent-mindedly checking its nails, "Once again, instead of facing me, you, devoid of pride or any honor, hide behind the back of someone more competent. And yet, this time it is fruitless, I assure you, you will die." The demon said, smiling at Bürgermeister, "Do you finally regret testing your betters, I wonder?"

Zaudern couldn't help it, sparing one glance at the Bürgermeister. The demons were creatures of deceit, but… why did Ahnungslos speak like he knew that demon?

The man just chuckled, stepping forth and past Zaudern's beetle-golem, and started to walk towards the demon, looking relaxed.

"Regret? I regret many things, Mogel," The man said emphatically, "I regret that I can't visit my son in the capital." He said, before stopping, "I regret that a drooling moron incapable of grasping coin or trade was gifted my city on a platter because he was a good attack dog for the idiot on the throne." He said, nodding towards the armoured figure that even with the helmet on, Zaudern recognized as the lord, "I also regret not drilling every morning, could've saved me not having this gut," He said, chuckling to himself.

"But my only regret concerning you, Mogel, is that I didn't manage to sell you and your master spoiled shite twice," He said, grinning, "Some people are born to be swindled, and it seems this is true for the entire demon breed, how your kind can have the reputation of deceitful schemers when you have the caution and intelligence of a baby when making deals is beyond me! If you could hold a place in any society, you would be dedicated cattle!"

It was then that the ten armoured warriors rushed towards the Bürgermeister, who merely smiled, standing at ease with his shield and hammer at his side…

Zaudern commanded his own golems to rush forth, intercepting the majority, but one did reach the Bürgermeister, winding up the sword strike…

And the pudgy Bürgermeister stepped forward, closing the distance to something far too near.

The enchanted hammer briefly flared in his hand as it impacted the knight's leg, the impact sending out a shockwave and the crunch of bone, the second strike came down as a smith's hammer falls upon the anvil, square atop the man's helm, the steel holding for but an instant before it caved, the crown of the helmet folding inward as the skull within burst apart, a thick spray of red erupting from the seams of the buckled visor, arcing bright across the cobblestones, leaving nothing of the man's face but splintered bone and gore.

The casual display of skill and power took both Zaudern and the demon aback, making them simply stare.

"And this is your second mistake," The man said simply, stepping past a body as he spat on the corpse, "Thinking that letting me personally smash the heads of those inbred dogs is anything but a present." Ahnungslos placed his hammer on his shoulder.

"Back away, defensive formation." The demon ordered, and the puppets, still pleading, followed the command almost instantly, breaking distance with the golems and positioning around the demon.

The only reason Zaudern couldn't bring himself to question Ahnungslos right this instant was that he understood intimately that the man was trying - and succeeding - to provoke a demon, and they couldn't afford in-fighting right now.

"It seems you are under the mistaken assumption you two can survive this," The demon noted, inclining its head, "A mistake I will just have to correct. Now-"

Everyone present briefly paused, as the screeching sound reached them.

A second later, they saw it, a vortex that stretched from the ground to the sky, inside of which something dark and fiery was being born… before igniting into a blazing inferno of flame.

This was a tornado of fire, roaring some distance away from the city walls and visible from here.

…was this Albert? What could he be fighting in that case?!

----

Author Note: This chapter took a while, and took a lot of me.

Originally I thought it would take me one more chapter to wrap up the arc. I was wrong. The next chapter is bigger then this one and it still only halfway through I wanted from climax, so the chapter after the next one will wrap it all up. I will write continuously to get it out ASAP, i want htis to end without holding you guys hostage for too long.

Now, there is a lot to chew on in this chapter. Do tell me what you guys think, I genuinely am excited for feedback on this one.

The next chapter with some epic fights is currently on Patreon. So you know, check it out if you want to, it's 16.5k words!