Another chapter in only a few days, I hope it was worth the wait. Enjoy.
As we made our way to the east wing of the Royal Armory, I felt my stomach churn with nausea at the sight of the strangely empty hallways. Then I saw the shroud of shadows at the end of an intersection ahead of us. Something resided in it, made of living metal and eldritch fire. "Tell me I am not the only one who sees that."
Oscar and Kieran shook their heads and readied their weapons. The horrors of metal strode froth from the shadows. Their armor was polished to a gleam, though through several vents I could see green smoke emitted from the viridian fire that burned within them. They stood defiant and stoic, though the aura of their souls were permeated by the malice they carried.
The Tempest Dao flared to life in my hands and I raised it in the form of salute to my opponents. The sword was a weapon descended from the foundation of House Delbray, and I was the ruler of the noblest realm of all Crimea. I brought honor to my ancestors every time I strike down the foes of Kingdom. Flayed One armor is formidable, but they would not stop my assault. These were of the warrior caste, I judged by their lack of ornamentation. They were the mere foot soldiers for their dark empire.
I lunged forward with a mighty battle cry on my lips, striking down low against the unyielding defenses of the dead. "For Elincia!" The one I was to attack swung his bastard sword down to intercept my own blade. We met with a loud crash of metal against metal. My two sub-commanders responded to their own, Oscar brandishing the mighty Wyrmslayer pike while Keiran fought with a weapon he forged from his own hand, Libertas.
These bastards we fought may have been simple grunts compared to their overt leaders, but they were still very formidable opponents. They fought sluggishly, the dark magic gave them form but the speed was something they could not truly replicate. I felt the rare emotion of fear claw at my stomach as I wondered what exactly these creatures would have been like in their prime.
I slashed off the arm of my first opponent and bisected his head clean from his shoulders. Another instantly was upon me and I forced myself into a defensive stance against the murderous onslaught of the monsters. Oscar and Kieran were scarcely having much more luck. They may have been skilled opponents, but we learned our bitter lessons from Volus. The most important one was never to underestimate the opponent you fought.
Oscar impaled one on a lance before he twisted the point more and pulled it out to deliver another blow. The flayed one could handle one blow and easily repair itself, though two in such rapid succession proved to be its downfall. It disappeared into a shower of enchanted flashes before a bitter smoke wafted from the place the monster once stood.
"I am the hand of the General! I will broke no insults upon his honor or my own!" Kirean's fanaticism echoed in my ear as he cleaved through two of the lower caste in a single swoop of his axe. One reached out with dagger-like fingers and slashed down across his face. The scream of pain cut his boasts short but they were superficial. Painful, but not debilitating or lethal.
I drove my Dao through the gorget of one and brought the energized blade down until that one monster was half the individual he was before. As they evaporated into nothingness, I sheathed my sword in the scabbard. It seemed pointless because I knew there would be more coming, but I could strike opponents down when I drew it from my sheath.
Oscar pulled his spear out of the disintegrated remains of one opponent and he revealed a gouge in his armor. His armor was simple steel, no runes of warding or enchanted components, and the flayed ones tore through it as if it was made of tin. "How many of these things await us?"
I shrugged as we proceeded with caution, we were near the Armory and they surely would have heard the sounds of battle. "From the sheer amount of tables needed to hold all of the remains, no less than four dozen."
Kieran wiped the blood from his face, grimacing at the pain as he did so. "Do you think they could establish a foothold here? Use dark magics to open a gateway to let more in?"
I gave Kieran a reassuring glance. "I will see to it that never comes to fruition."
Ahead of us the east wing of the Royal Armory beckoned. The entryway was torn open like a cocoon, and the lights showed by the forges' dying embers showed the horror within, as if the smell of coppery iron did not alert us before.
The forge was a scene of carnage, and it took all of my willpower to hold back the contents of my stomach again. Blood streaked the walls and the various tools used by the servants of iron. Oils and ungues mixed with less savory liquids, and there was no care or reservation taken in the slaughter of these men. Beorc and laguz died together, their faces twisted in fear and pain. Out of the corner of my eye, as I sloshed through the lake of liquids, I saw a hawk laguz with his wings torn from his back and feathers hung from his mouth. They forced him to eat his own wings as he died.
I then saw Bastian, and I felt my grief redouble.
The Count was dead, split from groin to neck in a single swipe of an energized blade. With such strength, Bastian's protective wards did nothing to stop it. He laid face down, his unblinking eyes opened in shock as visceral organs mixed with the torn cloth of his robe. What remained of Bastian of Fayre was vented out and strewn like offal. This was no way for an honorable warrior to die. The flayed ones had robbed him of his last glory in life.
I brought down a gauntleted hand and closed his eyes. Even the dishonored dead deserve a peaceful eternal slumber. I noticed that clenched in his hand tightly by rigor mortis was his prized hand crossbow. It was a compact weapon, already loaded with an explosive bolt and a quarrel of more laid not far. I whispered a plea of forgiveness as I removed the weapon from his dead hands.
For a moment I screwed my eyes shut, marshalled my anger, and tried to turn it into something useful. The sensation of drowning came back, and the darkness in my mind's eye returned with it. I fought it down, and clenched a fist to stay focused. Whatever trauma I was to experience would have to wait. I was determined to master it. I addressed my two compatriots who themselves were granting eternal slumber to those whose eyes were still open.
"A fearsome foe is loose inside of the halls of this mighty bastion. It has already laid our queen low and now it seeks to draw us into their claws as well." I gritted my teeth. "But he will not succeed. We will rouse our brothers in arms and take the fight to them. We will find them, destroy them and hurl them into hell's toxic mouth."
I made the vow as my two subordinates nodded grimly and turned to leave the dead. There was nothing we could do for them now, and if we dilly dallied here any longer, the cost would be high. More bodies would be laid to rest in the mausoleums and upon the Phoenicis' winds as ash if we did not act.
"Commander!" Oscar pointed forward and he raised his lance as he did so. The veil of darkness was there, a reality before me and not an idea that danced at the edge of my subconscious. I drew the Tempest Dao and felt the energy run along the blade as I saw who my foe was. It was the assassin, the slender weapon of death held in his hands.
"By Ashera's mercy, I will have that bastard's head…" But this warrior was not alone. Three more strode into view with powerful weapons of their own, ones with designs inconceivable from my memory. They were archaic and crafted with grim malice. One of them also had a crystal vial of a nauseous looking chemical. A hideous vapor that faintly smelled like almonds wafted from the canister, and in that moment I knew what it was.
They loosed the poison in our direction and we were forced to duck back behind the walls of the armory. I pulled free the hand crossbow and let loose an explosive bolt that hit the assassin clean between what I assume the eyes would be. Unprepared for the onslaught, the assassin did not have the time to engage the chronometric device that slowed time for others and his head was evaporated in alchemistic fire. I felt some satisfaction as I watched Elincia's would-be killer crumple and fade from existence.
Resurrect from that.
The poison was stagnant and the smell overwhelmed us, but the noxious fumes did not. I cupped a hand to my face to filter it out as the sensation overloaded my mind. The clacking of their metal feet told me the true intention of the weapon. It was both a toxin to sow death through the lines but also to provide cover for their advance. They would set the terms to their liking, not our own. We could not engage them with what we had to bear.
"Here!" Kieran tossed me a glowing orb from the other side of the doorway. "You can never be too prepared."
I caught it and looked at him with some concern. "Even in the Castle of Melior?" He shrugged. My deputy commander handed me a creation our battle mages had been working on for a long while. Trapped inside this orb was a single charge of lightning suspended in a very volatile gas. A deadly weapon, but worth the risk.
"Get back!" I bellowed the command and we took off deeper in to the armory. Once the flayed ones were under the gate, I tossed the orb at the support that held the entrance up. We ducked behind some of the forges as the glass orb struck the stone.
Instantly the light and screaming noise filled all of our senses as the wall and ceiling gave way. Outside the Armourium, the dust was still settling. Chunks of debris fell from the ceiling and where internal support was exposed, like that of a gutted beast of earth.
Our enemies were trapped, but already the veil of darkness was beginning to coalesce again. Kieran raised his axe but I seized his arm and urged him away from the rubble. "Come on. We need to gather more soldiers to the fight."
I scarcely made it more than two footsteps in the other direction when the crystal raised me. It was Renning, and I knew it would not be good. "Geoffrey, we are in the hospital but we are under attack. The flayed ones have found their way here and Queen Elincia is in mortal danger. I have no idea as to how much-"
He was cut off with a sharp squeal. I tried to contact him again to finish his thought but my communication crystal failed to work. Something must be interfering with the river of magic.
Like smoke on the wind, the shroud of shadows abated and moved elsewhere. It was set on a singular purpose, and I knew that the royal family of Crimea was in its sight. Grim-faced, we made all haste to the place of healing. I prayed to all that was considered holy that we would not be too late.