Through the Gap
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/"Those certainly sounds like crystal cricket shenanigans,"/ Monika whispered.
I clapped my hands. "All right. Enough posturing. We're all friends here. As a duly deputized official of the Crown of Belfast, and an accredited Healer of the same," through royal patronage and much bribery of the Healer's Guild "why don't we take this inside where I can take a look at your friends?"
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Oh they did not look good. They did not look good at all.
The only parts of them spared were their face. Bruises were all over their bodies, not even their breasts were spared. There was no room for modesty when it was vital to heal in preparation for war. And in the exposed areas of flesh when wearing armor…
"Are these claw marks?" Skin had been gouged out, and on their arms and legs were broad puncture wounds that hinted of a careless grip pushing deep into flesh.
The worst was a puncture wound into Cynthia's side, going straight into her kidneys. Sarah Lanyard, and the other women didn't even bother to heal their superficial injuries, no matter how painful and swelling were their still torn muscles, just to save her magic power to keep Cynthia's wound from going septic. The debauched fencer was still unconscious and feverish.
Lying still on a cot on the floor like this, pale and delicate, only might even be fooled into thinking she was a proper young lady.
Mylah's body was in the morgue, under ice. At least they didn't have to spend magic power yet in maintaining refrigeration.
"If I could just cast [Great Heal] again…" Sarah mumbled. But doing so in her condition would kill her. Magic did not cast from willpower, but stamina. This was why Healers were so respected, because asking from them too much would also harm them. Magic Stones were amplifiers for [Light] magic, but magic has to come from somewhere.
From our research, it was perfectly valid to call [Magic] as a [Force]. Everything that lived possessed magic; it surrounds us, binds us, holds the universe together.
Elze was already running healing magic over Sarah, and slowly the signs of being beaten nearly to death faded. "Did you fight something that looked like a giant crystal cricket?" she asked.
"No… it was a demon. It was a demon that did this!"
What what. Is that a thing now?
"It had the face of a goat, the upper body of a man, and the hind legs of an ox." Lydia sighed softly. "It was no mere demon. It was a Demon Lord."
Demon Lo- what sort of dragon quest is this?!
Elze sucked in her breath. "Seriously? That's… that's not just a story, right?"
"There could be no mistaking that might. That terror… There was just nothing we could do." Lydia cradled her face in her palms, despondent. "That fearful aura… we were ready to give our lives, but it just didn't matter. That creature was just too strong. And its summoner, somehow… he too was immune to all magic. Neither blade nor wand had any efficacy… and then, all too quickly, we were brought down."
"That's bad! That's seriously bad!" Elze squeaked. "Is it a demon invasion like in the legends?!"
"No… it's unlikely. That Demon Lord was taking orders. Belfast is too far away from Demon country, regardless."
I looked up sharply. "Wait, hang on. I know there's undead. They just appear out of nowhere where there's strong lingering emotion. Now there are demons. But are there vampires also?"
"Um. Yes? Of course?" Linze answered. "There are monster beasts, and then there are monster beings."
THIS COMPLICATES THINGS MASSIVELY MONIKA.
Monika's bland expression through the augmented reality overlay to my vision was just /'Why?'/
/"Is it because you are Catholic?"/
She put her fingers together into a cross shape. /"Since when has that ever been a problem? The Roman Catholic Church has always been the go-to reference for anti-demon warfare. Legend has it that King Solomon could trap and control demons. Pope Honorius II was reputed to summon demons in the night and then beat them up as his stress relief.
/"And contrary to expectations, the Church's exorcism training tends to allay first mental and physical ailments before jumping to the conclusion it's demon possession, and their measures are much much gentler than the actions of civilians. Section XIII Iscariot is still the standard against which all vampire hunters are measured. What is the problem here?"/
Because I can't decide how to take this now. Id or Blizzard?
Monika sighed and palmed her face./"Truly, you are a Dark Soul."/
Look at this, Monika. Look at their faces. They are beaten, not in body, but in the soul. They would throw their lives away just for the slightest chance of saving their lady, the person who gave their lives meaning. Without her… what is the point in living?
A hollow existence like that… I know it well.
It was like their fires were beaten right out of them. What would it take to ignite their confidence again?
I don't need some game overlay popup to know my quest here. A demon is an out-of-context problem that breaks the long balance between powers. Sometimes I felt like the reason I was here was to be another out-of-context problem to balance out everyone else's cheatery and general moral shittery.
Demons run when a good man goes to war.
/"But we are not good people, Player."/
So let's pretend.
Monika in her virtual world posed like she was a Sailor Senshi or something. /"Into the eternal darkness, into fire and into ice!"/
You are not docking any Monika points from me, I recognized that reference.
/"Aren't you being overconfident though? We simply might not be that strong compared to demons."/
If demons were capable of eating magic, then that's why we get to test the anti-antimagic methods we worked up in case we meet up with another ancient magic-eating crystal creature.
"Summoning, huh." We should really have looked more into that magic. It really just didn't interest me because I was not a Disney Princess.
I didn't need magic beasts to do my bidding, and summoning sapient creatures felt a little too much like slavery. Yes, a summoner and a summonee need to agree first, but if it were me I would be *absolutely pissed* if some random Dark Mage summoned me while I was relaxing at home with my family.
"So, you do you have any idea who was the master of this demon?"
Lydia sat with her fingers laced together in a Gendo pose. "It was General Bazoar of Regulus."
"Wah, so fast! Are you sure?"
"He was here." Lydia swept her arm around the room. The receiving room of Castle Zeno, with its throne-like high chair broken in two. The thick stone walls were pitted with cracks and scorch marks, but few were recent. Many a scion of House Zeno died fighting to the last in this room. "He made sure we knew who dared trespass. These halls… have been disrespected. No one just playing a part would have enjoyed it that much."
The two broken long tables that reminded me of Hogwarts dining tables, that was a recent damage. As if someone had picked them up and thrown them at a boastful invader.
"Is… is he some sort of moron? A master of [Earth] magic is all the more dangerous the more enclosed the space."
"If you mean that we should have attacked the summoner, of course we did. He too was completely invulnerable. Blades couldn't even cut his clothes." Lydia's hollow expression only deepened. "A demon is fearsome, even a dragon would think twice. But a human bound to a demon… there can be nothing so vile."
Sarah crossed her arms protectively over her bountiful chest and began sniffling. "We… we couldn't do anything. We were so weak. We need to get the Lady back… we need to get her back right now!"
I stared at Lydia's face, drawn and gaunt, but with her high cheekbones and full red lips she looked much closer to a classy lady than Zorah as a cakeface. Cynthia was arrestingly beautiful in that androgynous way that she could tempt married women into her bed. Sarah had that bouncy body with a deceptively young face, enough that a noble would murder her family just to possess her.
The mere fact that they were in a hurry, and could only carry one person, thus the reason that a general of Regulus could only indulge himself with sowing pain instead of other lusts.
I sighed. Why is this world so full of scumbags, really?
Every little bit of power you could use to lord over someone else, everything that allows you to get away with hurting others. It's like I was in a world full of spoiled manchildren who never had anyone to knock some sense into them.
Or basically exactly like 16th Century Europe but without the religious motivation for war I guess. Nobility's delusions of superiority have yet to be broken in the trenches and the mud and the machine guns.
Did that magic-eating crystal cricket that wiped out the former capital of Belfast a thousand years ago and the magic immunity of Demon Lords have something to do with each other?
/"Magic immunity in a civilization based entirely upon magic is quite the strong hindrance, Player. Maybe we have become too secure and egotistical in our advantage with our unlimited well of power. You shouldn't let your mouth write checks that your body can't cash."/ She outlined the girls in my HUD. /"You... are not the only one in danger here."/
I pulled up a chair and sat facing Lydia. I imitated her pose, resting my elbows over my knees and lacing my finger together. I leaned forward, darkly looming. "Tell me everything you know, so that we can soonest start to figure out how to fight this thing."
Lydia clenched her jaw in a half-snarl. "The demon is not the more dangerous - it is the man! You must kill that beast!"
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Before raiding Regulus, it was important to note just how some total bugnut like Zorah could serve as a deterrent against a country almost four times as powerful as Belfast.
About three days ago, they caught some suspicious individuals trying to map out Castle's Zeno's defenses. The main road through the valley was very clearly marked, and the border between Regulus and Belfast was always patrolled. The people of the Zeno fief didn't have a reason to go into the forests behind the castle. Not even adventurers would go there, because unlike other domains the guard forces of Zeno kept their skills sharp by hunting monster beasts.
Most house troops did not do this because it was largely considered a waste of time. Other than some hunts now and then to build morale, any injuries against monster beasts meant troops made useless in case of an emergency.
The tactics used in combating monster beasts were also almost the exact opposite of what a soldier needed to train. An adventurer usually relied on mobility and special abilities to win, rarely in teams more than five. A soldier wore heavy armor and had to fight in organized formations. A sufficiently dangerous monster beast would just rip through any spear or halberd square. Artillery was utterly pointless. Monster beasts rarely obliged by going out into the open where soldiers could put combined arms into effect.
Most soldiers were soldiers because they lacked unique personal abilities. Adventurers and soldiers tended to despise each other. Adventurers think soldiers were individually weak and sellouts, soldiers were just itching for any reason to gang up and beat up adventurers that get uppity.
The Poison Snakes brought in were useful in that capacity. Why?
Because House Zeno DID NOT KEEP PRISONERS.
Zorah dragged the poor sods to the border gate on the Regulus side. Of course the captain on guard denied that the prisoners were Regulus saboteurs, and the prisoners claimed they were just innocent adventures under hire for a perfectly legitimate concern. If they were Regulus citizens, then Zorah ought to release them.
Which is what she did.
She grabbed each of those burly men by the ankles and threw them over the walls.
"Goddamit, Zorah." I groaned and slammed my face down into my palms. "Is this even reprisal?"
"No," Lydia replied evenly. "If Regulus went to war every time some unimportant fellows died, they would never have lasted so long as an empire. This is not so unusual, we have to do this a few times every year. If they really cared, then they should have mages to catch those men on the other side of the wall. If Lady Zorah wanted to murder them, she would throw them AT the wall – and they know this."
She said this was something of a centuries-old tradition now. It was one thing to be crazy, it was another to be *reliably* crazy. Everyone knew that the Zeno family didn't give a hoot about propriety, they long been warned in advance, anyone damn fool enough to pull shite in their territory deserved everything they got.
"Letting your ambushers live is no mercy. They fear Lady Zorah but you… you are worse. What you have done to them is worse than any slaver," Lydia told me.
I winced. Surgically implanted magic stones programmed with surveillance magic was of higher grade than mere shackles. Slavers had magic collars that could choke slaves to death if they escaped, or disobeyed orders, or if their masters were just feeling bored. My magic gems merely tapped into a separate magic tool, a holographic tactical map that I gave to Sacha of the Steel Fangs as part of my stick-and-carrot strategy.
Monitor gems were put into their bodies at just under the pancreas. Deep enough that no surgeon would dare to operate on them lightly from either side of the body at risk of the wound going septic, even if they had access to [Great Heal].
"I have the same gem in my body, I wouldn't ask of anyone anything I wouldn't dare to do myself," I replied.
I had the option to put in a self-destruct subroutine, but decided against it. Exploratory surgery/magic cybernetics was not something the girls would entertain just yet, but the same thing would also be helpful for us later if we ever needed a quick lock-on for emergency [Boom Tubing] teleport.
Like cloud storage, it also download audio logs of what happened in the day to the tool, which Monika could then retrieve whenever she's in range via Bluetooth connectivity. The 'holotank' basically looked like a wide metal clothes washing basin filled with cold blue mist. It displayed the local terrain with floating symbols marking the location of each.
I looked at the portrait of the recent Lord of Zenovivi, an old man with a long handlebar mustache and red cape. He strongly reminded me of some sort of cowboy Dracula.
It happened at night. At just after dinner time.
Castle Zeno was a compact, sturdy little fortress designed to bleed the enemy to death in its narrow corridors. Nevertheless it still required about a hundred of servants and resident soldiery.
If I were to do this, I would use some sort of colorless, odorless knockout gas. Or maybe starve the castle of oxygen. It doesn't explain how to knock out the guards outside or in their more open-air barracks as few levels down, but it was possible. Not something as flashy as magic.
Lydia was sure it wasn't [Dark] magic, those tended to leave distinctive dark fog. People just started falling over. There wasn't much more they could report tactically about their fight here.
General Bazoar just needed to wave his hand, and they felt drained and weak, almost falling unconscious. Zorah's punch could shatter castle walls, but she just bounced off an invisible wall that absorbed all the force of her punch.
"Wait. That sounds like my [Air Shield]. But… better." Some sort of anti-kinetic battlescreen?
He kicked Zorah in the chest and slammed her back across the room.
Magic hit his clothes and did nothing. Magic hit the demon and did nothing. Trying to melee fight the demon ran into the problem that its arms were longer than even a woman with long stabbing rapier, and Cynthia just barely avoided getting her head clawed off her neck.
Mynah attacked General Bazoar head-on, trying to get into grappling range and got closer until she just suddenly keeled over, unconscious. He showed he had physical strength enough to flip her over, and then stabbed her in the heart.
The great dining tables thrown at his face did nothing, slowing to a stop in the mid-air and then dropping. The other smashed against the stone wall behind him.
It probably is some sort of battlescreen, damn. A Bolo battlescreen deflects kinetic energy to the point it can defend against fusion plasma in the megaton range arriving at 70% of the speed of light. Now, it is unlikely that this sort of magic would be the same as that of fiction's most honorable supertank, but another property of the battlescreen was its ability to absorb the energy of weapons fire to feed its own capacitors. Many Bolos who would have otherwise been out of action because their reactors were shot were still able to fire back simply because the enemy still kept shooting at them.
"This implies it has a range," I murmured. "And that he would be otherwise squishy if someone could just get past that magic shield."
But then Bazoar did some sort of telekinetic pull thing to wrench Cythia from all the way across the room and then stabbed her in the gut, muttering how it was a shame to kill such a lovely woman. If only they had more time to enjoy themselves, he said. But greater glories await.
"Giving our lives to give Milady what she needed to win would have been our honor!" Lydia hissed bitterly.
In the end what convinced Zorah to come quietly was not just trading for the lives of her retainers, but for everyone now asleep and helpless in the castle. If there was going to be war with Regulus, they could still be useful.
"One unicorn in the garden, Monika?" I whispered through my palms.
/"I don't think this is a Player Two situation just yet. Just because your enemies might be assholes is still no reason to believe they can't be competent. His spells sound like better versions of your spells likely for the same reason you chose to develop those spells in the first place."/
I suppose. It wasn't just starships that had shields. Dungeons and Dragons has the [Shield] and [Otiluke's Resilient Sphere]. Harry Potter Wizards had [Protego]. Nanoha mages had [Barrier] clothing. Any magic system that allowed flight also tended to allow for spherical shields.
We stared at the holographic map. Finding Zorah was easy.
On the opposite side of the Gap was Fortress Alpas, a larger structure that was less designed for defense than as a supply point. It was a squat round building within a box of low thick walls designed to withstand spellfire rather than infantry assault, like the beginnings of Trace Italliene, or eerily similar to the Castel Sant'Angelo in the Vatican.
It was the nearest place to imprison Zorah within reasonable time. More accurately, the map had Zorah's locator beacon over it.
So, you know that collar I gave Zorah as a gag? Of course I put locator spells in it.
But that was not the point. The point is that later to balm her rage at the insult, Zanac also gifted her with a much more slim and delicate choker. Zorah would be much more willing to accept and wear it all the time.
Of course I put locator spells on that too. Less to find Zorah than to ping when she was around so we could avoid her. But that served this situation just fine.
"Wait. You are a healer, are you not? Heal me up and let me fight with you!"
Once again I had to deny Lydia. "It's not that I don't trust you to yeet our assault, but someone so emotionally compromised should not be on the line."
She looked to the side, where the girls were standing in a row, trying not to get in the way of our planning. "Surely you can't believe that bringing a bunch of children to fight a Demon Lord would end well. Do not be overconfident, boy!"
"In a smash and grab it's better to work with the people whom I know how fast they can move," I shot back. "Overconfidence is only a thing if you expect to fight and show off instead of just yoink and run."
Lydia blinked. "That… that's good. If that is the plan, then that sounds much more feasible. I will trust you on this."
"That's the plan."
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Boom.
Within the hour we had completely bypassed all of Regulus defensive cordons and were dropping in from right overhead the fortress. It was day, but we had [Wind] and [Light]-based [Invisibility] magic. High enough that the sound was muffled, and light just a flicker in the sky. We floated gently down to the flat round roof of the fortress, which we could see also seemed to served like some sort of public arena.
"Berge Palace used to have the same thing, until it was domed over and turned into more rooms for the Royal family," Leene remarked. Now that she said that, we could certainly now see just how similar this fortress looked to the somewhat defensively impractical Royal Palace of Mismede.
As much as Leene was annoying, we were not foolish enough to discard a trump card. She was an expert opinion on what Demon Lords might be capable of. She would stay behind and outside, well out of range whatever possible antimagic there might be, just in case we needed someone to blow off the roof and exfiltrate in an emergency.
Fortress Alpas was quiet. And empty. And yet Zorah's tracking signal was clear and distinct. The inlaid tracking spells even reported that she was alive and well.
The plan…
Didn't survive.
