-Slayers: Knightfall
Chapter Thirty-four
Sometimes, I wonder why I even bother, I thought, as yet another fellow Zephillian got hung up by his camouflage on an enemy razor-wire fence and subsequently was blown to a fine, bloody mist by a brass demon's spell.
But then again, I've been saying that over and over again, ever since our cover was blown.
It started off perfectly. After Val had teleported us and went off to a mission of his own, I and about 8,500 Zephillians, some seven miles outside the enemy perimeter, had slowly crept along, moving and stopping based on the information I gleaned from using my Knightmare Sight. In fact, in more than one instance, I had to void the existence of a guard tower manned by ne'er-do-well mercenaries and the occasional lesser demon.
But to my consternation, one of my mages let loose a premature Fire Ball, and the ensuing racket let the enemy know that something was most definitely up.
And now. . . Now it was an absolute nightmare.
Thousands upon thousands of Flare Arrows screeched continuously overhead, and small but potent explosions pocked the scorched and blood-soaked battlefield with never-ending whumphs, casting an eternal sunset on the early morning sky. Low-level demons, mercenary scum and a whole smorgasbord of monsters swarmed about everywhere, with no regard to formation or tactics: only wholesale slaughter was on their minds. Deep trenches, sometimes filled with serrated spikes, proved a constant impediment, and rusty caltrops, littered about by the thousands, proved a painful way to slow our already painfully slow progress. Already vultures circled high above in anticipation of an unusually large meal.
We were surrounded by valley walls on three sides. Our goal, the Zanaffar Factory, a domed, turf-covered construct the size of a village, was at the far end of the valley. The only escape route was behind us, but we knew that we could only go forward or else this could very well be the last dawn all of us would ever see again.
Still, we were doing better than I would've hoped even on my most optimistic of days.
I hope you're enjoying the ride, kid. I also hope we can make it out in one piece and win this thing, or there isn't gonna be much of a world for you to be born into.
While the defending enemy was ferocious, we had the tactics and the sheer will to survive. Facing the brunt of the battle was the 6,000-Zephillian frontline force led by Reg and spearheaded by me. Not far behind was my pride and joy: the group of 500 or so Battle Mages that I recently had trained, serving death and mayhem by elemental spells, and the occasional Black Magic spells cast by some of my more talented and intrepid learners.
To the rear of the mages were the 2,000 archers, backing the entire force up from a reasonably safe distance, blanketing the sky with silver arrows, picking off a fair number of the Flare Arrows and piercing the flesh of more than a few demons and monsters.
In the distant sky, far overhead, I could make out the glittering scales of hundreds of golden and black dragons. These were strafing the enemy with Fire and Laser Breath, further culling their ranks.
But even so it is hardly putting a dent in the main force. How many are there? Tens of thousands? A hundred thousand? Why didn't Mil and the gang tell me about this kind of force!?
It was easily the most terrifying experience of my life, fighting in a full-blown war. And as my luck would have it, not just any war either. But I forced the fear down into the furnace of my heart and turned it into anger to be used as fuel for the fighting.
I cast levitation on myself and floated just below the brim of a trench about one impossibly long mile away from the factory. I peeked my head out to get a better view and promptly sank right back in as a hand ax went sailing right overhead. A mercenary grunt strolled right up to the rim, checking to see if I was dead -- which I most certainly was not. I grabbed him by the ankles and promptly made them disappear, causing the surprised fool to tumble into the spike-filled chasm to a gruesome death.
Almost as if he thought this was some kind of "holey" war! Oh! I slay myself!
I wished I could pull off bigger stuff than that, but the Shard within my chest was acting as a kind of limiter. I could go for a lot longer using my Knightmare abilities than I used to, but Giga slave or anything similar in its destructive capacity was out of the question. It was like trading a huge catapult with two or three big rocks for a crossbow with an unlimited supply of bolts. Each was useful in its own way, but right about then I really could've used the firepower. I supposed I could try to pull off a Ragna Blade if things got too hairy, but I had the feeling that somehow it wouldn't be a good idea as it still might drain me too much to be of any use after I cast it.
And usually, my gut is pretty good at warning me when things could go down the shit-hole.
Momentarily scanning the ensuing carnage, I saw Reg batting away berserker after berserker with his recently repaired silver war hammer, crushing skulls and collapsing chests with heedless abandon. It looked as if nothing could touch the aged warrior, as though he were some kind of war-demon sent to slaughter the enemy. Suddenly the berserker entourage backed off, but not because of Reg's battle prowess. The largest Brass Demon that I have ever seen loomed before Reg, lowering its horned, skull-like visage to have a go at playing "bull." The berserkers simply had not wanted to get in the way.
The beast charged and Reg stood strong, his weapon at the ready, sure to deliver a skull- shattering blow just before the demon plowed into him. I was almost right in my guess; Reg did deliver a fatal strike, but it came just as the Brass Demon hit him full on, sending him flying a good fifty feet back.
I stood in shock that Reg would let that thing even come close to touching him, and was even more shocked when I saw him get back up and run headlong back into the fray as if nothing had happened!
Heh, too cheeky to die after a hit like that.
His armor gleamed with the first rays of the morning sun, and I remembered that it was the very same armor that had stood up against a lava flow not long ago. He would be fine, I told myself. I had to have more trust in my friends. I had enough on my own plate to worry about without obsessing about Reg, or where Zel, Amelia, and Gourry were. Lantz I'd lost track of at the beginning of the fight, and I didn't have time to look for him amid the chaos. I had to trust that they would keep themselves alive and that everything would work out in the end.
Reg was momentarily in the clear. The berserkers wanted nothing to do with him now, so I yelled a quick, congratulatory remark and offered thumbs up. The warrior grinned a bit and acknowledged my kudos with a salute. He then went off to rejoin the frontline, leaving me wondering what to do next.
A pair of Flare Arrows landed a bit too close for comfort, but other than that, my personal bit of Hell seemed a little too safe.
I then sensed two blood-curdling presences that I'd really hoped would not crash this party. I looked to my right, back towards the factory, and saw a pair of young-looking human warriors, seeming oddly isolated from the rest of the bloodbath, as if they had a much more important task and the war was a trivial undertaking in comparison.
Oh, to feel important!
"Aiden! Stridus! Long time no see!" I jibed. "How's being the Earth Knight working out for you? Oh, wait; you aren't the Earth Knight anymore, are you?"
Stridus' face was absolute, soul-devouring rage, and Aiden didn't look too happy either. While Stridus was not going to be using any of his former abilities during this fight, he was still a formidable swordsman, much more so than I, and Aiden was still the Knight of Shabranigdo.
Sigh . . . this is not going to be pretty. Or fun. And it'll probably be the end of this outfit that cost me 300 gold pieces.
The angry pair drew their weapons, each way bigger than they needed. I would've said that they were overcompensating for a little something, but it was just too obvious a jab. I mean, of course they were overcompensating.
I levitated out of the trench and landed on the opposite side facing the two; no sense in making it too easy for them. My only consolation was that Stridus didn't wield his cleaver quite as steadily as he'd used to … but still, even a glancing blow would be enough to split me in two.
"To regain the Earth Lord's favor I need kill only you," the fallen knight said with such total focus that anyone within earshot would've known that something had snapped inside his head.
"Yeah, because you did such a good job of it last time," I sneered. Actually he had done well, but as I was still alive, to his eyes it must've seemed as if he had failed.
"Shut up, heaven!" cried Stridus as he ran, preparing his first attack.
"Idiot! She's just goading you!" berated the Dark Lord's knight, also moving to attack.
Stridus leapt over the trench, sword held overhead. It was a ridiculously moronic starting attack, though he did manage to look pointlessly dramatic as hundreds of Flare Arrows soared overhead, illuminating the scene in flaming crimson, so I had to at least give him props for that.
"Bom di Win!" My wind spell slammed into him full force, its gale-force winds stopping his jump short and gravity doing the rest. I hoped that Stridus was at the end of his rope, to be impaled like the mercenary a moment before, but he somehow still had the momentum to just make it.
Not one to leave things to chance, I quickly cast a Shadow-Snap into the trench with a small dagger I kept handy just for that spell. Stridus stopped in mid-air and plummeted to the artificially spiky ground.
Somehow though, the jerk managed to imbed his sword at the opposite (my) side of the trench and pulled himself up by the hilt faster than I could believe what I was seeing. He still couldn't move in any direction but up, but I didn't believe that he was a magic user so Levitation or Raywing would not be a problem.
He was trapped as trapped could be, tee-hee.
I'd planned to finish him off before Aiden made the jump he was running for, but Stridus had somehow beaten us both.
A fleshy tentacle flew from the former Earth Knight's chest, nearly impaling me with the black, hook-like claw tipping its end.
That . . . looks vaguely familiar, I thought to myself. But with all the crazy things that have been happening lately, identifying one crazy thing as opposed to another was beyond me.
One thing for sure though, that thing was no longer Stridus.
"Oh, man. What did you do to yourself?" I asked, not really expecting an answer but I had to put it out there.
The tentacle retracted back into the body of the boy-monster, who smirked evilly (as is evil's wont).
"What better way to defeat evil than to use evil? I only did what was necessary, something Lord Milgasia could not find the heart to do himself."
"Enough talk!" shouted Aiden, eyes blazing crimson. "Let's finish her and be on our way!" Shabranigdo's knight used a lighting spell to free Stridus from my Shadow Snap and kept me from interfering by slashing his sword, sending a red arc of energy my way. I dodged it, but not before I'd launched some Freeze Arrows just to give them something to think about.
Freeze Arrows or no, Stridus wasted no time, making a beeline straight towards his favorite target. Luckily I had already drawn my sword or else I would've been easily bisected. Our swords clashed, sparks and flakes of metal flew, and a crack appeared on my short sword.
Great.
My weapon was compromised, and magical barriers did little to stop physical weapons. I had to finish this fast. What's more, Aiden decided to take advantage of my momentary distraction to try and slash at me with his claymore. I barely dropped underneath the blade in time and I found myself rolling to the left as Stridus tried to impale me once again with his newfound appendage.
"VAN RAIL!" I cried, and icy tentacles rapidly tried to snare the attacking pair, but they all too easily evaded the spell.
But I had bought myself enough time to get back onto my feet and begin chanting another spell.
Aiden suddenly sent another energy arc and I almost lost my chanting rhythm as I sidestepped the attack.
Looks like tricky is going to be the order of the day.
I focused on Aiden and charged, praying all the while that it would work and I wouldn't kill myself doing it.
I was within striking distance and so was he, and we both knew it, but the Knight seemed more interested in what I was going to do than in attacking me, despite his earlier berating of his partner.
"Ruby Eye Blade!" A shimmering, blood-red blade appeared in my empty hands and I swung ferociously at the smug-looking Aiden, who merely cocked his eyebrow and allowed the conjured blade to pass right through him, harming him not in the least. Of course I knew it wouldn't hurt him. Why would the demon whose power I was using for the spell allow that same spell to hurt his Knight?
But try saying that about my true target, who happened to be standing just a little too close to his buddy while I took the swing.
"WHAT!?" cried Aiden, realizing he had been fooled. He moved to stop me, but it was too late. My spell was finished and I had quickly moved back out of range of his sword.
Unfortunately, all I got of Stridus was his cleaver, which I managed to cut clean in two, rendering the weapon nearly useless. But hey, I figured the odds in my favor had just gone up a few points, so I took it.
"Not a bad trick," complimented Aiden.
"Luckily I have a weapon that you can't break so easily!" Stridus again stretched his nauseating new toy, but I was ready for it and the attack was easily dodged.
"Dug Haut!" A stone spike impaled Stridus right where he stood! I had only intended the spell as a distraction, but the fool just let it take him full! I stared even more incredulously as the creature that once was human looked me straight in the eye while he was being gruesomely supported in midair by the stone spikes, and smiled a crazy little smile.
An inhuman shout shattered the magical spike and Stridus was free. I watched in horror and recognition as the hole in his chest filled with fleshy tendrils, closing the hole and healing him as if my assault had never happened.
"Y-you . . . Raugnut Rushavna! You purposefully let a demon curse you! Turn you into that . . . thing!" I had run into that curse only few times before. All of those encounters were very nasty, especially this particular modification of the curse. Luckily though, I knew the transformation's weak point. Problem was, it was a hell of a weak point.
"Demon?" Aiden asked, incredulously. "No, but close enough. I was the one who gave my friend this power."
Which meant that Aiden had at least some of the same abilities as a middle or higher ranking demon! This was getting better all the time!
"Power I willingly took in order to destroy your heresy once and for all!"
Enough with the exclamations!
Stridus' arms became a mass of tentacles all headed towards, yup, you guessed it! Me! There were far too many to dodge, so I projected a shield of darkness, obliterating the tentacles as they came into contact with it. Stridus groaned with pain, but he kept on pushing forward, his disgusting limbs growing back as fast as they were destroyed. He probably thought that he could break through somehow, but it was impossible.
He could outlast me, though. I had no idea of the full extent of Raugnut Rushavna's regenerative powers, but I knew they were absoludicrous. On my end, it all came down to the Shard; while it was great at making my powers more efficient, using my powers for such a long duration as this was still not a good idea. Already I could feel tingling fingers of fatigue taking hold of my strength.
It didn't take much to remind me that someone besides me needed me to be at as full strength as possible.
I closed my eyes, willing myself to hold strong, and when I opened them, Aiden was nowhere to be seen.
I heard soft breathing behind me, and I knew that I was dead.
. . . Well, thought that I was dead. My hyper-tense body relaxed a little when I heard the clanging of steel behind me. Saved for now, I could fully focus on dealing with the Knight of the Dirt Clod. I pushed out on void-shield, elongating it, eating away at even more tentacles and making him back off a bit. I knew that my tactic wasn't going to hurt him unless I hit his weak spot, but I wasn't so sure that he knew that.
Sure enough, the tentacle assault ceased and Stridus stood at guard, assessing the situation.
"What's the matter?" I sneered. "Don't know what to do without your life-partner over there?" I still didn't know who was keeping Ruby-Eye's Boy Wonder busy, but for the moment I couldn't afford to find out. One way or the other, I had to finish this fight. I might as well try goading him into making a fatal mistake.
You who are part of the Lord of Dreams that terrify . . .
"I do not know how your sister suffered you so," Stridus said, eyeing me darkly, his muscles tensing, preparing for what was probably a final, desperate attack. "You defile the gods with your very existence."
You, who are finally released into this world . . .
"Don't you dare sully her name with your inhuman tongue," I said with such cold finality that even Stridus widened his eyes. There were few things that could set me off to the point of willingly committing cold-blooded murder; mentioning Luna's name the wrong way was one of them. And any way that Stridus could mention it is the wrong way by default.
A Freezing Black Blade of Darkness . . .
"Or Milgasia for that matter," he dared to continue. "He should not have held me back."
"He could've chosen the 'safer road' and killed me, but instead he did something it'd take ten thousand years for you to grow the balls to do. He took a chance on me and chose understanding and forgiveness, something your Earth Lord was very keen on preaching back in the day." I just had to throw in, "Or so I hear."
Be my power, become my arm . . .
"Taking a proactive approach to dealing with his detractors was always a part of the early church. I am just bringing that part back." He started to charge, the black-hook-tipped tentacle making its stomach-churning return.
I started to run too, mentally timing when our attack ranges would meet.
Together we shall walk the path of destruction . . .
"This is the end for you, Inverse!" The hook quickly grew larger and larger and it was aimed for my heart; it was soon going to be moving faster than I could dodge.
"After you killed me, I met and spoke with the Earth Lord!" I shouted and Stridus hesitated, eyes wide with disbelieving shock. Gotcha.
To rend even the souls of the gods!
"RAGNA BLADE!" I was about to put everything I had into the spell, but as I felt the power of the blade, I realized I didn't have to; the blade was easily twice as powerful as even a Boosted version of it when I had the Demon's Blood Talisman. It cut easily through the black hook, the weak point of a monster cursed by Ragnut Rushavna.
A pained and pathetic yelp escaped the weakening Stridus. He looked at me with hate-filled eyes as he collapsed onto the scorched earth.
"He said you were a disappointment. But I guess you can discuss it with Him, assuming He deems that you to have any right to be in the same realm as He." He'll probably offer the stooge one last drag from his "special cigarettes" before sending him straight to Hell.
Stridus' expression did not change as he drew his last breath, but I did see a single tear slowly trickle down his graying cheek.
Finally . . . One down, a million more to go.
I took a deep breath and sank to my knees. I was getting a little tired, but I still had plenty of fight left. More than enough to last the entire battle, as long as I didn't have to cast anything big like the Ragna Blade more than once or twice more.
The fighting was in my immediate area, so I took the moment to think. A couple of things had been bothering me since the battle had begun. One was the fact that while this place was supposed to be a Zanaffar factory, I had yet to see any of the enemies wear the living armor. While I was grateful for that inconsistency, it did come off as more than a little strange.
Second, lesser and Brass demons were present. Xellos had told me that Bob had run into an anti-Astral Plane field surrounding the factory that had severely messed him up. Now unless the enemy could selectively target which Astral beings and objects tied to the Astral Plane to repel, then the field was either off or it had never existed to begin with and Xellos had just flat-out lied to me.
Xellos never lies, though, so I guessed I had to bet on the field just being off. But if that was the case, why was it off? Was whatever had caused the field malfunctioning? Or was it that the machine was waiting for something with a strong connection to the Astral Plane to come close and then it would set off? That would explain why Xellos took my torc.
CLANG!
The sound of steel on steel reminded me that Aiden was still alive, and so was the person assaulting him. I whipped myself around, leaving my musings on the back burner, to find the least likely person this side of Shabranigdo and Prince Randy helping me.
"Nehel?!" I blurted. I quickly clasped my hands over my mouth for fear of distracting him anymore than I'd probably just done.
The fight was like nothing I had ever seen before: it was obvious to me that they were both going all out. Nehel darted in and out of the Astral Plane (another point in my "Field is off" theory), trying to find a way around Aiden's perfect defense. A silver glow followed and surrounded the Angel wherever he was seen, and the majestic sword he wielded was something not of this world.
Like the Weapons of Light, the sword looked grown, an organic entity, rather than forged. But unlike the Sword of Light or Val's Ragud Mezzigedus, it was a thing of beauty rather than simply strange and foreboding. The blade was platinum so pure that it looked white. Another strange feature that I noticed was that while the blade was emitting flares of light like an impossibly polished sword would, I did not see any reflection of the battlefield, or even Nehel and Aiden of any kind. It was as if the sword indeed had come from another world and that this world could not be a part of it, even its reflection.
All of these observations and more led to this one, inadvertently spoken thought.
"Me want now." Again I found my hands over my mouth and my cheeks reddening at my uncharacteristic stupidity. What do you mean, I act that way every time I see a shiny new weapon? Don't you realize that every time I get a new sword it is somehow snapped in half in short order? Allow me my small desires in life.
Ahem.
A flash of red light suddenly caused the world to slow, or at least it seemed. I saw Nehel, brilliant wings unfurled, sword upraised, nullify Aiden's attack with a shout. Red lances of light scattered and fell to the ground, shattering like glass, leaving glowing, bubbling bits of super-heated earth where they had landed.
"It'll take more than that, Luna's Arch-foe," Nehel smirked. He flourished his sword and produced a pattern of light exactly the same as that display, tangled and confusing. With a slight gesture, the light shot towards the evil Knight, its pattern altering with every foot gained.
Aiden did not move. Instead he simply cocked his head as the light lassoed him and contracted tightly. After an uncomfortable second, the Knight ferociously flexed all of his muscles and the light rope broke as if it were made of frayed twine.
"H-how-?" Nehel sputtered.
"I do not acknowledge your power," Aiden simply and coldly replied.
Hmm, made sense. Remember that crazy epiphany I had in Lucidia's Temple? About how Angels, Gods, Demons and Devils don't really exist and are only made real by our subconscious desires?
I somehow doubt that Aiden has come to that same realization, but it was common knowledge that demons are best fought by exerting your will beyond their own. I imagine it would be exactly the same for angels as well.
Nehel's features were torn between anger and disbelief, his knuckles white with rage. Aiden pointed his crimson claymore at the arc-angel and spoke: "I do not acknowledge you, agent of a false god."
A wave of blood-red flame engulfed Nehel and would've gotten me as well had I not ducked back into the trench. For what seemed like forever, heat and noise were the only things I knew in that crevasse, hovering via levitation only a few inches above deadly spikes. The moisture was nearly sucked from me, I had never felt such heat before! Even the inside of an erupting volcano was more comfortable! I quickly cast a high-intensity cold spell and found that it just barely kept me from collapsing from heat stroke. It was as if the fires of Hell itself had been unleashed. And knowing who Nehel was up against, they probably had been.
Finally it was over and I dared to peek over the ledge. The ground was blistering hot, and much of it was turned to glass; the heat was that intense. I saw Nehel, his wings nearly burned off, limping towards Aiden, radiating righteous fury. Aiden watched him with a humorous and curious expression not unlike that of a bull mastiff with a chihuahua challenging him.
"Acknowledge this!" rasped the angel, and he suddenly plunged his still-spotless blade into the smirking gullet of Aiden. Blood-red light spewed from Aiden's partially blocked mouth, but that was soon drowned by a much more powerful silver fountain of light. Soon the light grew so intense I could see the dying Knight's bones through his armor and flesh.
Aiden's flesh sizzled and popped, and eventually, what was left withered and fell from his blackened skeleton, which also collapsed to the ground in a disorganized heap.
"Whoa." I couldn't help but admire the power of that sword.
Nehel weakly moved to the fallen Knight and withdrew his sword from Aiden's burnt remains. He fell to his knees, and for some reason I rushed to his side to keep him from falling over completely.
"I think I regained Luna's favor," rasped the Angel. He looked pale, and not in the overly pretty, glowing angelic kind of way.
"She would've forgiven you in time," I said, realizing that Nehel was in his final moments. "But, I thank you all the same."
"No, you were the most important thing in the world to her, though the reason why eludes me." Nehel let a weak smile crease his pained lips. He grabbed my hand and placed his sword in it. I looked at him with questioning eyes.
"An apology," he explained. "And a gift. This blade is known in your world as the Flare Dragon Sword. Sylpheed himself wielded it five thousand years ago in his fight against the Dark Lord. It is made of Sylpheed's blood, the purest orihalcon, as it hasn't been tainted by this world. I'm giving it to you. Use it to make sure the War of the Demon's Resurrection never comes to be again."
"Nehel . . . this . . . " I really didn't know what to say, but it didn't matter anyway as the Angel died in my arms while I floundered about in my mind. I wasn't too sad about Nehel's passing, but he did save my life, adding yet another to the list of those who'd died because of me.
I pushed that self-pitying nonsense out of my mind. I would not go down that path again. Instead I focused on the Sword, in awe of its utter flawlessness. It was the same size as a bastard sword, something I could use but not with any real skill. Regardless of that, the blade was something that put all other legendary weapons to shame.
Nehel's body slowly turned to silver dust, disappearing on the wind. An unsettling thought came to me: I wondered where angels went after they died.
I stared across the mounting chaos and let the war become real once more to me. I had a job to finish and philosophical musings could wait.
But still . . . I hoped that whatever that place was, it wasn't the Sea of Chaos. Nehel deserved better that that.
I took my new Sword and held it high, its silver light blazing, calling my army to me.
We had a war to win.
Tom the Mighty's Mighty Notes
All right, a massive fight scene after many chapters of no fighting! And it only gets crazier in the next and maybe final chapter! So stay tuned!