Chapter 10 - A Day of Execution
With the little chit-chat over and breakfast finished, he reached back into his camp and began to pack up. Ensuring additional wards and protections were deployed and the fire still burning, he hoisted his sack onto his back and set off into the forests ahead.
As he ventured further along the off-beaten path, towering trees cast their shadows over him. The air was thick with the earthy scent of damp soil as sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, emitting dappled patterns of light and shadow on the forest floor. The floor was carpeted with a lush undergrowth of ferns, mosses, and flowering plants. He scanned the ground for sea shells and other trinkets of interest, but all seemed tranquil as of now, with only colorful butterflies flitting around him. Just when he thought this moment would persist, he was proven wrong again. Suddenly, he felt a disturbance at a distance; Honing his senses further, he felt a hostile presence ahead. Crouching low, Varus readied his staff for some action, his reserves boiling within him as he cautiously advanced.
As he made his approach, the devastating repercussions of yesterday's storm came into view. Another shattered remnant of a small ship lay strewn across the shoreline. The debris littered the sandy expanse - Broken hull pieces, tattered sails, and assorted debris along with the corpses. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood, staining the earth beneath with a crimson hue. His gaze swept over the scene and it locked on to two sinister figures lurking - their grotesque forms twisting and contorting as they feasted upon those unfortunate claimed by the storm.
"More void-woken, in their morbid feast," Varus whispered with a mixture of resignation and contempt. "Awefully seems like becoming a common sight these days."
Peering from behind a sizable rock, he observed their features cross-referencing with the ones he saw yesterday. It seemed they too had been washed ashore. "Another ship lost to these creatures. Looks like our path with these things isn't ending anytime soon. Damn my fate," he added with a rueful shake of his head.
"My other form could make a short work of them, but let's try a different approach this time," he planned up, his gaze locked on the voidling. With a deft motion of his maga staff, he unleashed a sudden blast of air, catching the creatures off guard as if a hurricane had struck out of nowhere.
Seizing the opportunity, Varus darted forward, though in hindsight, it might not have been the wisest decision ever made.
"You...I know...I know you.", one of the monsters uttered, its words carrying a weight that seemed to reverberate through the very air, infused with otherworldly power. At that moment, the atmosphere crackled with arcane energy, causing time itself to dilate. As if reinvigorated by the surge of magic, they surged forward with renewed vigor, spewing forth their toxic attacks. With reflexes honed by years of training, Varus deftly evaded one assault, countering the other with a swift, precise strike from his staff.
"Acrobatics is overrated," Varus remarked with a smirk, as two additional tentacles erupted from his back. As they emerged, the four appendages seamlessly merged into one, forming a more formidable limb.
"...Last of...Satheran... Lucian's spawn... Woken... Kneel to the King," the voice persisted, seemingly emanating from nowhere. But he had enough of such voices for the last few days. With a colossal swing, the tentacle swept aside everything in its vicinity, clearing a path. Another surge of wind energy rippled through the air, causing chaos among the voidlings. The force of the gust sent them tumbling away, their forms tossed like leaves in a storm.
The appendage seized them from the air with a vice-like grip and flung them forcefully to the ground. Unrelenting, he commanded the tentacle to repeat the action, the constriction from the force turning their bodies into a macabre mush. The limb persisted in its unflinching assault, mercilessly hurling them down with unyielding force again. Two more repetitions anew and then it was all over, leaving nothing behind but a pool of liquid remnants which once had been their bodies.
"Tell your king," He declared, his voice laced with defiance, amplified by magic. "Varus Satheran listens to offers, not threats. And this one already has an owner. Least she looks good." With a casual crack of his neck, he observed the aftermath as he retracted his tentacles back within himself.
More blood, its hue now a sickly violet, intermingled with the mangled remains of the void beings, pouring a putrid odor that nearly compelled him to retreat. "I thought these bloody collars were meant to keep those creatures at bay," he grumbled, tugging at his collar in frustration, disappointment palpable.
Scrutinizing his staff too, he shook his head with a sigh. It lacks the firepower he requires. Using it once or twice might suffice, but ultimately, a novice staff serves only a novice, fit more for selling than for practical use. With the hostiles neutralized, he turned his attention to assessing the site.
Beyond the parts he can scavenge from the voidlings, suitable for selling as alchemical assortments, lay the remnants of the wreckage. Treasure chests and supply barrels adorned the dilapidated hull. As he sifted through them, he also examined the condition of the magister corpses, unable to resist a wry remark, — "Hmm, drowned and eaten by the Voidwoken. And I wonder in which order." Within one of the chests, he discovered a torn-apart book. Upon careful inspection, it revealed itself to be another one of those crafting manuals, used to improve basic weaponry.
Having gathered all he could salvage, he selected a voidling carcass and impaled it onto a tall stick. Placing it atop a prominent rock would serve as a warning signal to others: "Void-tainted area, tread forward at your own peril." He does take his minimum responsibilities seriously after all.
Occasionally gathering more shells and sharp rocks along the way, the remainder of the journey went smoothly. In the distance, an imperial banner fluttered in the wind. As Varus approached, he encountered the remnants of cargo boxes, human waste, and a broken carriage.
"I'm on the right path, it seems. If an order banner is here, I must be close.", he wondered as he walked forth. A bit further along, he arrived at a crossroads of sorts, where the road split in two directions. One path descended towards the shoreline on a different side, while the other ascended, growing steeper. In the distance, he discerned the remnants of a round tower interlinked with the dilapidated walls of the fort, with yet another banner fluttering above.
Growing curious, Varus chose the path going up. However, as he progressed, he was amazed to realize that the structure in the distance wasn't a round tower at all, but instead, the remnants of an ancient great wall that had once seemed to stretch across the entirety of the island. Pillar structures and large boulders adorned with elaborate paintings dotted the landscape. The very ground beneath his feet transitioned to a smooth paved floor in certain areas. He could only pity the fact that the citadel once had likely seen better days and now stood as a mere shadow of what it once was. The diverse vegetation—forests, ferns, mosses—continued to envelop the area, with undergrowth emerging from the man-made structures, gradually reclaiming them and burying them beneath the earth.
With his keen eyes, he spotted a thick undergrowth spreading across the crumbling wall from the adjacent hillside. Swiftly, he climbed a tree and leaped to another, inching closer to the area. With a long jump, he landed on the cliff edge from the tree branch. However, upon reaching there, he discovered that the undergrowth was not entirely sturdy; it had been torn apart by friction in the middle. Scaling the rampart from this point seemed impossible. Descending, however, was still feasible—a crucial observation, he believed.
Having come this far and utilized the trees for scaling, he found his efforts not entirely wasted, as the elevated position gave him a better view of the entire area from the cliff. From his vantage point, he discerned that the path leading northward further opened up, eventually converging into another crossroad. His previous path, on the other hand, continued straight, flanked by dense forests and the shoreline. To the north, another section of the ruined wall lay, once connected to the rampart he had attempted to scale moments before. However, this section was built through a hill and appeared more accessible. Varus nodded in satisfaction; things were progressing smoothly.
As he descended from his little scaling adventure and returned to solid ground, he continued his journey with an eye on the surrounding foliage. Spotting some mushrooms with large white caps and brown stalks nestled in a dark corner of the wall, he plucked them up. Upon tasting a sample, he felt an immediate invigoration coursing through his body. Nodding, he carefully wrapped the mushrooms to carry with him. "Penny Bun Mushrooms. Standard forest fare, rumored by elder Wayfarers to possess healing powers. Otherwise, excellent ingredients for healing potions. They also sell really well," Varus laughed, he could almost hear the satisfying clink of coins in his ears already.
As the day progressed and the sun kept ascending, he ventured along his new path to the north. When quite abruptly, he encountered a black cat darting toward him. Alert, Varus prepared his spells for potential danger, but the feline showed no aggression. Instead, it halted beside him and began grooming its paws. Then, unexpectedly, it fixed its gaze on him and uttered, "Hm? What? How did I get... Hey, stop following me!"
"Another day, another bout of insanity," Varus sighed, casting a wry glance around him. He concentrated, activating his senses for language translation. "Cat, you approached me. I didn't follow you."
"What? No, that can't be—I can't—...hey, stop following me!" the cat persisted, its screeches filling the air.
"I didn't even budge an inch now... Listen, are your screws alright? If not, I can summon someone to take a look at you. I'm not a Satheran if you're not feeling the urge to flee then," he remarked, eyeing the cat in return.
"Huh! Yes? Fine. I'm fine... I just... I'm not sure... It's all a little foggy..." The cat began to speak, but then its eyes glazed over, and with a sudden jerk, it darted away from him.
Shaking his head in mild bemusement, he pressed on along his intended path towards the hill, ascending its slopes. He dodged the dust and stones that occasionally tumbled towards him, clutching onto inclining plants and sturdy rocks to aid his trek. Upon reaching the top and leaping down onto the ruined wall, he was greeted with a panoramic view of the surrounding landscape: more roundabouts, crossroads, undulating hills to traverse, the mesmerizing blue waters stretching out below, and the distant cries of seagulls. It was a sight to behold, a moment to savor.
However, it seemed that he wasn't the first individual to have such thoughts about this spot. Atop the way lay the remnants of a proper camp: tents pitched, a well-used fireplace with a makeshift cooking station, and numerous bedrolls stocked with provisions. Despite the apparent abandonment of the site, the quantity of supplies suggested that a sizable group had once occupied it—likely a magister patrol more than a tourist, he speculated. Regardless, it was a sign of the times, indicating his proximity to another settlement...likely large.
He could have easily set up his camp here for another day and enjoyed the scenery properly, but it seemed that wasn't meant to be. From the rampart, he could see even further, wherein the distance lay the vestige of an Overpass. On one end, it was completely destroyed, crumbling under the vicissitudes of time, its elaborate marble columns succumbing to decay. Yet, on the other end, the pass gave way to a paved road leading through a mighty gatehouse flanked by two colossal statues of sentinel wielding giant swords.
Their watchful gaze as if still alive bore the weight of an eternal oath — to protect the citadel at all costs. Near the gatehouse, the fire lamps still burned brightly, their smoke wafting lazily around the Divine Order banners that hung proudly from the towering walls.
Varus nodded as he observed closely; he could discern the silhouettes of red-clad patrols moving back and forth on the overpass, traversing in and out of the gate, while crowds of people streamed in through its entrance. It appeared that he had properly pinpointed the location of the large settlement. Now, the only thing remaining was to make his way there.
"Looks like I won't be sleeping out in the open tonight. Missed the good food too. ", From this place, there wasn't much he could take. Nonetheless, by the fireplace, he spotted a portable military-grade shovel and decided to take it along. He considered its utility in digging up things—a task better suited for creatures with large claws like the Lizards of the Ancient Empire. Besides, his beast form was temporary. Having a tool for excavating suspicious-looking mounds seems useful.
Scaling down once more, Varus continued his journey as the noon sun beat down. The path smoothed out gradually, transitioning from dense forest to open grassland. As he descended the hill, he caught sight of a striking flower, its large size and vibrant purple petals attracting a flurry of butterflies. Examining it closely, he murmured, "Seems like Yarrow to me. Grows like a weed in areas you least expect. Quite contradictory to compare it to a weed when it's actually quite rare to find. Doesn't fetch a high price, but it still possesses healing properties, albeit not as potent as Penny Bun. They say it can be used for enlightenment." He plucked the flower, contemplating what he would do with it. Perhaps those alchemical assortments would indeed be needed after all.
He was now close enough to the new fort that he could see the stairs leading towards the gatehouse and the overpass. The noise of people grew louder as he pressed onward, expecting a typical scene of bustling activity. However, his anticipation turned to intrigue as he observed a crowd larger than expected, huddling together and swelling in numbers over time. Their collective gaze was fixed in another direction, where a group of magisters, templars, and sentries stood guard, accompanied by additional armored figures levitating in the air as if they were angels.
Their unwavering gazes of steel deterred anyone, even the most seasoned sorcerer, from approaching as they formed a circle around three individuals at the center. Among them stood a tall woman with equally long blonde hair, clad in divine golden plate armor with a giant hammer resting on her back. Her attention was focused on a fallen lizard lying on the ground, one eye torn apart, a limb broken, and bleeding from her various orifices.
The woman exuded an aura of regal authority, even from a distance, Varus could sense that she was not someone to be trifled with. Among all the individuals he had encountered thus far, she now certainly ranked among the top five in terms of power and presence. Her companion was equally, if not more, formidable. Wearing a royal crown and a proud expression, even a collar similar to Varus tugged at his neck. He was adorned in royal red divine armor, towering over the scene. He wielded a menacing magical staff, its tip pointed toward the wounded lizard.
Varus's pace slowed as he turned cautious. Encountering two big shots right at the entrance of the gate wasn't something he was expecting.
Yes, he had recognized them both immediately — Bishop Alexander, Grandmaster of the Divine Order and son of Lucian the Divine, stood alongside Dallis, his formidable right-hand, also known as 'The Hammer' and 'The Executioner.'
Keeping a low profile and suppressing his magical presence to the barest minimum, Varus blended into the growing crowd, appearing no different from an ordinary man. He sought to meld seamlessly with the throng while quietly eavesdropping on the conversations in an attempt to grasp what was going on.
"—Atusa, desist and answer," Alexander roared, his staff aimed at the lizard as a blast of sparks struck her body. A tinge of fury flashed in his eyes as he turned his gaze towards Dallis.
"Your Godwoken has posed a question, Magister. Speak now," Dallis declared, her approach deliberate and devoid of emotion. Two golden concentric circles narrowed her pupils as a halo materialized above her head.
"But I know nothing of any Verdas," Atusa pleaded, to which Dallis only responded with a chilling smile, while Alexander's fury intensified. "We already know the truth, Magister. You still have a chance," she warned, her halo intensifying and gradually expanding.
"I am proud and loyal to the Order, always have been," Atusa coughed, thick blood lacing her spit. "I would not dream of subverting our... cause."
Dallis and Alexander fixed their gaze on her, their expressions void of further emotion. Tension hung heavy in the air. Suddenly, Dallis's eyes swept across the crowd, scrutinizing each individual. In a fleeting moment, her golden pupils with concentric circles locked onto Varus's own golden gaze before swiftly moving on. With a resounding clang, she detached her giant hammer on the ground, announcing loudly, — "People of Fort Joy, remain back and remain silent. Our Godwoken speaks."
Alexander's gaze turned ruthless as he fixed his eyes on Atusa, his voice dripping with venom. "We know you've been aiding sourcerers in their escape, Atusa. We have definitive proof and ample intelligence to support our claims."
Atusa's eyes widened for a brief moment, but she still held her ground. "I'd sooner cut out my tongue than lie to you, Alexander. I know nothing of any escapes."
On the sidelines, Dallis finally nodded. "Then so be it. If you can tell the Godwoken no more, your tongue is of no use but to speak lies. Cut it out. Now."
"This... this can't be serious," Atusa's eyes widened as she struggled to stand, "Alexander! This is madness!"
Alexander slowly shook his head, his gaze shifting from Atusa to the crowd. "You should know by now to obey your superior, Magister—whatever she may ask of you."
Damn, things were getting serious here. Despite his desire to remain unnoticed, the crowd fell silent, allowing Varus to inch forward. It appeared that if the Divine Order wanted to keep the populace in check, as well as their own rank and file loyal, this spectacle was one of the ways they intended to do it.
As Dallis prepared to raise her hand, Atusa suddenly pinched the tip of her tongue with her two long fingers. With determination, she brought her dagger to its root, her eyes squeezing shut as tears streamed down her cheeks. Drops of blood formed against the dagger's edge and quickly fell to the ground as she groaned in pain.
"Stop!" Alexander burst into a further fit of rage as he approached, kicking Atusa's body away. "You would rather endure pain than confess your sins to me. My father, may his soul rest in peace, would be deeply disappointed in you, Atusa. To think you would deceive his only son—your bishop and friend for so many years."
With unwavering determination, he continued, "The fate of our realm hangs in the balance. If you will not aid us in saving it, then you will unwittingly assist the Void in destroying it." Alexander turned to Dallis, his expression filled with anguish. "Dallis..."
"Yes, your holiness.", Dallis reaches Atusa and looks at Alexander who only turns his back.
"I... believe we are done here," Alexander's voice was heavy with emotion as he walked away.
"As you command," Dallis's body throbbed with magic as the very ground trembled beneath her. Her halo expanded and enveloped Atusa, binding her to the ground. A whirlpool of source and mana gathered around Dallis, swirling and coalescing in her palm compressing hard. With a forceful hurl, she unleashed it towards Atusa. However, unlike Windego's source bomb, this one transformed into a brilliant blue ray, crashing into Atusa's body with devastating force. The lizard's form was instantly torn apart into smithereens, reduced to mere atoms as the fabric of space itself seemed to shudder at the impact.
"What a waste," Dallis sighed, clasping her hands together before turning away from where Atusa once stood. Her gaze shifted to the crowd. "Let this be a warning to anyone who dares to cross the Divine Order, whether they be sourcerers or..." She glanced back at the remnants of Atusa's body, "traitors of the Order itself."
"You may all disperse. No one is to remain here in 15 minutes," she commanded. Giant draconic wings jutted out from her back, and with a whirl, Dallis turned and flew away, her angels disappearing along with her. The Templars and Magisters broke their formations, moving to disperse the crowd.
As the crowd slowly dispersed, the people moved away in silence, still shocked by what they had witnessed. Yet, many among them gazed upon their heroes—Dallis and Alexander—with eyes of fanaticism. To them, these figures were more than mere individuals; they were idols, keepers of fate, and the guardians of human civilization. They would undoubtedly have much to discuss once safely indoors.
However, amidst the departing crowd, one man remained standing, silent, unmoving, undisturbed by the commotion around him. And when everyone else was distracted, he began to discreetly survey his surroundings.