God Rising: The Cult of Ainz
Written by: AtheistBasementDragon
Edited by: The Usual Gang of Drunken Perverted Idiots
Chapter 174: Off Guard
AN: Well, we're getting there, I'm having to slow down thanks to training for my new job, but... step by step. :) Enjoy a double release today, also, 'Scales of Trust' Chapter 1 has been made publicly available on patr30n dot com /telling stories. That, if you don't recall, is my original work. You think I world build a lot with Overlord? No, not by comparison to my ambitions for this one, which has a unique magic system, a growing fully functional language, and an already rich cast of characters just waiting to entertain you.
...Crossroads...
Lupusregina hadn't had that much fun in her entire life. 'I don't know which way is better... doing it in wolf form or as a human... it's all so... fun!' She giggled gleefully as she crouched over the rioter. She gave him a big toothy grin, the sort she gave to friends, and then it turned savage and her teeth became sharp and vicious. He had a moment of fear before the pain hit as her hand tore open his stomach; she yanked his intestines out and tied them to the tail of a horse, and his screams of pain did not keep back the understanding of what she was doing. She held her hand up behind the rump for just a moment, long enough for him to shake his head in a desperate plea, and then she slapped the rump and the horse ran towards the area still controlled by the insurgents.
As the horse dragged the screaming man by the intestines that threatened to be pulled and ripped apart, she shuddered in climax at the fading wail that brought cries of horror from down the street. The note she'd carved on his chest telling them to surrender would probably be sufficient to quell that group. But Crossroads was large. She bounded from where she was up to a nearby rooftop, then from there to a higher one, and looked around.
The city still smelled like death, and would for awhile. 'I wonder how many times these toys will get me off? I wish I could just let them keep going...' She thought to herself with regretful look as defeated faces came out from behind a barricade with eyes downcast, they flung their weapons down, and another block could be called secure. The human warriors Enri had left behind came out and took possession of both the weapons and the prisoners.
Lupusregina looked east, to where Enri no doubt was, and stuck her tongue out, "I'll tell you all about this when you get back, -su. In the meantime, I'll go find new playthings!"
Eire hid. Day after day she'd been doing that. It was moments like this that she missed the man she'd betrayed, his warmth, his burly frame, he'd made her feel 'safe'. The straw she was hiding under stank; a horse probably pissed nearby. She poked her head out and listened carefully.
The sound of stomping feet, shouts of pain, and thudding of bodies falling flat kept her cringing where she was. The stench of blood and other less pleasant substances made the stale air in the stable worse. She whimpered in terror and prayed to the gods she was rapidly losing faith in, that she could keep her noises confined to that much. Her body was tense, and every muscle wanted to get up and run.
But she didn't bolt. She thought back to her childhood, the way the dogs her father owned would frighten birds to take wing, and as they ascended to the sky, they exposed themselves to her father's bow, and down they went. 'I will not die as a little bird...' She thought on a loop, 'I will live... I will live...'
She was still murmuring the same thought when the death screams rose to a crescendo, pressed from dying lips to the laughter of a monster. How quickly the screams faded would stay with Eire forever, not because most of them ended quickly, but rather because most of them ended slowly; the death screams were followed by screams of pain, whatever was happening, was hurting.
She forced her eyes to open, and lifted up a few blades of straw to give herself a blurry view of the ground, she saw fine boots tread the boards, and then part of a leg as the woman went down to her knees, straddling what was left of a rebel. She could see fingers ripping flesh away and casting it aside, and the woman lowered her face over the dying, looking into his widened eyes before she covered them with her thumbs, and pushed the digits through, piercing his eyes at the pupils, and then stilling his kicking, flailing form forever when she pierced his brain.
Eire saw the face, she knew who it was, General Enri's aide and bodyguard, the flaming red hair and matchless beauty were unmistakable. She giggled and looked at the pile of straw. "I know you're there -su. Want to play hide and seek -su?"
Eire stopped breathing, she didn't move, the feet moved around after the woman stood up. 'Gods... please... please have her be lying, please protect me... please...' She prayed silently.
"Have it your way -su." Lupusregina said with a sadistic giggle. A few steps later, she thrust her hand into the straw, scooped her up by the throat and held her aloft in the air.
"Thought it might be you -su." Lupusregina giggled out, "I recognized your smell– and your fear. I never forget the scent of prey -su." Her golden eyes made Eire just whimper further as she flailed, kicked, and grabbed hopelessly at the fingers holding her tight at the neck. The pain was tremendous, and she felt herself gasping for air, her desperate heaving for breath was only growing more futile than hiding had been.
"So, you a rebel -su?" Lupusregina asked indifferently.
Eire's eyes bugged out of her head, she tried to gurgle a 'no' but she couldn't make the word come out, so she frantically tried to shake her head.
"No, huh? Well, you're not on our side... I should probably kill you, but... I am curious about something. You satisfy my curiosity, I might let you live, deal?" Lupusregina suggested, but she squeezed her fingers just a little more tightly.
Eire felt her hands fall away, there was no strength left, she tried to say 'yes' but it came out as a gurgle, and the tightness at her neck prevented even a nod.
"Blink once for yes -su." Lupusregina said sweetly, unwilling to grant a breath for an answer. Eire blinked, and Lupusregina dropped her unceremoniously to the floor.
Eire felt the splinters of the coarse wood penetrate her skin, and the hard landing hurt like hell, but she couldn't cry out because she fell to coughing and holding her throat tenderly, stained by the viscera and blood from Lupusregina's hand, an ugly bruise was sure to be there after that.
"Now, what was it you were all weepy about before? When General Enri and you met?" Lupusregina asked with a twisted smile on her face, her hands rubbed together eagerly, anticipating a story of desperation and fear.
With no other options, her mind racing too fast to even lie effectively, she told the truth. How she met Petyr when he came to the bar, their love making, the days they spent, his final words, her betrayal, it all came out. She didn't make eye contact with Lupusregina even for a moment.
When she was done, to her surprise, Lupusregina started laughing, not lightly, it was a full blown belly laughter where the blood soaked woman had to wipe the tears from her eyes to keep her vision intact.
Gobsmacked, Eire just lay there, propping her body up on her hands as she stared at the feet of the red headed beast of the general.
"Oh, I'm letting you live." Lupusregina replied with a grin, "I'm even going to let you go, this is too perfect -su!"
Eire snapped her head up to look at her in disbelief. "What...?"
Lupusregina put a fingernail beneath Eire's chin and forced her head to stay up as she raked over the woman with her golden eyes. She moved her face close to Eire's, and took a deep, long sniff, Eire blushed but didn't dare to move away.
"You heard me, this is too perfect, yes, you can go, you can live, I won't hurt you, you're going to be living with 'that' the rest of your life, in your condition? Marvelous! Fantastic! Wonderful! I could never torture you as well as you're going to torture yourself, why would I kill you? Nope, go, live, hide away little bird, until this is all over. Then go, spend your traitor's silvers in gilding your self-made prison, maybe your silent gods will come and give you comfort, if you pray enough." Lupusregina stepped away, and then flipped her hand dismissively in another direction, casting her fingers out to a street that was empty but for the many dead. "Go, run -su." She laughed in sadistic amusement, and fearful of displeasing the monstrous woman, Eire scurried away as fast as her legs would carry her, she heard screams not far away, and the laughter of the monster woman as she brought those screams into the world.
'Won't be long now, another couple of days at most and the entire surrounding area should be put down, ah well, at least I get to play till then.' Lupusregina thought to herself, and followed her nose to the next largest group of prey she could find, ignoring the sounds of fighting between ordinary soldiers as she went, licking her lips in anticipation.
...Draconic Kingdom Army's Camp...
General Musan looked up at the head on the spike that they kept at the head of the column. He was uncomfortable, it was probably the grimmest thing he'd seen the Queen do, impressive, in a barbaric sort of way. He didn't much care for it though. 'Royalty, always with the displays, but what can you do?' He thought, and shrugged the thought off as things settled down behind him.
"Something on your mind?" General Oma asked as she walked over to where he was standing. He looked over to her and shook his head. Some distant elven heritage kept her looking younger than her years, but even so it was rare for a woman, let alone one her age, to achieve the rank she had. It spoke to her talent and drive, it made him feel at ease to hand leadership of the military over to her after the war.
"Nothing significant, really just looking forward to the end of all this. I realize I look like a man in his twenties, but this campaign has left me feeling my age. I'll be glad to retire when it's done." He gave a humorous grin to her when he said that, and she couldn't restrain a laugh of her own.
"Yes, you're very much a spring chicken, if that spring was a hundred years ago." She winked, he shared the laugh at her exaggerated mockery of his age.
"Very funny, but no, really nothing significant on my mind, which is probably negligent on my part; I should be thinking more about what will happen after we link up with General Baraja and General Zetsumei. Or should I say 'Queen' now? Nothing like this has ever happened before as far as I know." General Musan said with his lips shut tight as the last word exited his mouth.
General Oma shifted on her feet, noticeably uncomfortable. "Oh yes, chain of command issues? Two Queens and a Pope, and the ranks of all those armies have followers of the Pope's religion? Oh, and to make things even better, the Pope has a reputation for extreme violence? Yes, that will be uncomfortable, but if it makes you feel better, they'll probably solve that at the gathering our Queen is attending."
"I hope so, we'll be linking up with those three armies soon so... I'd rather not have the last march beset by chaos." General Musan replied as he walked away from the 'reminder' of their purpose, that sat staring blankly toward Kami Miyako on a spike.
General Oma walked with him, "True, but I wouldn't worry about it, things will work out, they won't fail us. In a few months, we'll be back home celebrating your retirement, and within a few weeks you'll be sitting by a lake somewhere, casting a line into it and waiting for a fish to bite."
The ground crunched under their feet, a pale layer of white powder left a mark with every step, the steam of their breath in the cold seemed to give life to their comradely exchange, and as he reached his tent, General Musan gave her one last look, "You're right, of course. I shouldn't worry so much. Have a good night's rest, see you tomorrow." He said and went in as she bade him a good night herself.
He slept easily, the darkness of the tent was comfortable, but long experience had him sleep with one eye open, which is why both flashed open when an unexpected sound hit his ear, that of fabric being cut. 'I shouldn't be able to hear that... it should be farther away, which means they're cutting the fabric of 'my' tent. If they're cutting the fabric of 'my' tent, then they must have magic weapons, since the fabric of command tents are always enchanted. That can't mean friendlies, great, assassins, just what I need. For fuck's sake, 'time' will take care of me well enough.' He kept the gallows humor in his head along with the laughter it brought, and reached under his cot for his sword.
He let the cutting go on until he made out the shadowy figure sneaking part way in. That was when General Musan lunged forward with his blade, when the intruder was most vulnerable. He couldn't see the expression of surprise on the intruder's face, but he was sure it was there.
The sword pierced the intruder's face and came out the back of his skull, the body dropped, lifelessly, and General Musan gave the corpse a firm kick to send the body back and free up the sword. "Intruders!" He shouted, "Guards! Guards!" The shout was taken up from somewhere, and the cry went out and the camp began to stir to life.
As the body tumbled back and the cry went up, the friends of the intruder did not stay idle, they abandoned all pretense of subtlety and slashed the fabric of the tent to get at their target as fast as they could. "Stubborn bastards!" General Musan shouted and took up a shield, without armor, he was vulnerable, but all he needed was a little time. He killed another the same as the first, but the remaining few managed to get the gaps in the fabric large enough that they could burst into his quarters. There were five of them, wearing black cloaks and each bearing two long knives of high quality.
"You want my life?! Come on then!" General Musan snarled, and to their surprise, he took the attack to them, bashing with his shield and making wide slashes with his sword to keep the younger and more agile attackers at bay. They cursed and tried to get around him, they were on the clock and they knew it, already the sound of the alarm was bringing more to the scene. After three such successful slashes kept them moving away, a single uniform frustration seemed to overtake the last four, and they rushed him, heedless of the certainty that at least one of them would die.
Seeing their resolve, General Musan ignored his pounding heart and their pounding feet. With what he was sure was the last warcry of his life, he brought his sword back and with his shield up, brought the blade around to take one more head.
It was at that moment that help arrived, guards poured into the tent and went straight for the remainder, tackling them wildly as two more grabbed the General and pulled him back, staggering him to the cold, frozen ground with the force of their efforts. He landed with a thud, straight down to his ass, stopping some of the painful impact by letting his hands catch the fall behind himself. It gave him the perfect view of the hate filled faces of the black clad assassins that were tackled to the ground and still struggled to kill, before a series of stab wounds to their necks and heads took the hatred out of their eyes and replaced it with the glassy look of the dead.
"General Oma! Check her!" He shouted as he struggled to rise, and was assisted by his own men. "And check these bastards, I want to know whatever we can about them!" He said forcefully as he got the ground under him again and pointed to the scattered corpses.
His instant adoption of a command posture and order prompted his soldiers to act, he made a mental note to find out the names of those who responded first, and honor them properly. "Where are the guards who should have been outside my tent?" He asked with a sudden concern and a sense of dread.
One of his rescuers bowed his head and shook it unhappily. "Gone, sir."
"Dead?" General Musan asked with a regretful voice as he started to catch his breath from his earlier exertion.
"No, just 'gone'." The soldier replied, "No indication that they were there at all."
He paled. "Find them! Alive or dead, it doesn't matter! But find them!" He cleaned his sword off on the black cloak of a corpse and sheathed it, then started to pace with one hand on his forehead. "I can guess who these were, at least by organization if not by name." He kicked one of the dead faces with distaste.
As he tried to work out all of what had taken place, soldier came back in who had gone to call for General Oma. "Well?" General Musan asked expectantly.
"Sir, I checked her tent, she is missing, but there is a copious amount of blood left behind. Too much for her to... to have survived." He said with a raw expression of loss on his face. His lip quivered his voice was rougher than it had been before.
'One of her soldiers, at a guess.' General Musan thought to himself.
He went on, "She must have been murdered in her sleep. The guards outside her tent say they saw nothing and heard nothing." He rendered a brief salute to signal that he had finished his report, and then asked through a tight jaw, "What should be done, Sir?"
Fury formed on General Musan's face, his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed, a red vein on his forehead began to throb. "Arrest the ones responsible for securing her, either they're inexcusably incompetent or they were bribed, either way, we can't keep them with us and we can't let them leave to have possibly profited from this. Have them hanged before sunrise." He paused for a moment, taking a breath before continuing.
"Go, leave me for now, station a few outside in case of a second attempt, but take these bodies, and after you've searched the area, question the guards outside the camp, I want to know how these men got in without being detected! Go! I... I have to report this to the Queen. I want to find her body, we'll need it if we want to resurrect her... but there is more to it than that." His face showed for a moment, the aching sense of loss that death innately brings to survivors, with the softening of his cheeks and a single bite to his lip to keep his grief at bay.
Then his face twisted with greater wrath as the reality of it all hit him, his eyes turned to steel and looked unblinking at the soldiers who attended him. "Those bastards think they can stop us by striking down one of our own?! No! We'll do a forced march all the way to whatever still stands of Wheaton, we'll show them that their underhanded tactics will only drive us to fight harder!" He growled out every word at first, his voice growing louder and louder, until he shouted at the end and slammed his meaty, wrinkled fist down on a table and accidentally broke it.
"Yes, SIR!" They shouted in response, and went to carry out his orders as he went to sit at what remained of his table and write to Her Majesty Draudillon. As he focused himself on composing the missive, and the soldiers left him alone, the muscles of his face tensed, he would easily and quickly compose the report. But it would be some time and only with great difficulty that he composed himself. He reached behind him to gather a handkerchief, he would need it to catch the tears even now welling up and blurring his vision.