Chapter Sixteen: Poisoned Skies

Chapter Sixteen: Poisoned Skies

With little time to waste, Colmar and I departed on foot towards the citys cathedral with a squad of guards. I would rather have taken horses or pegasi, but the latter struggled to stay within arms reach of my fellow hero.

I am sorry, Robin, Colmar apologized. My presence tends to spook animals.

Because they sensed his true nature, no doubt. Its fine, I reassured him. The cathedral is close enough that walking there on foot makes little difference.

That was why I had selected this area when we divided up the city between ourselves. Roland, as befitting his class as the Knight, immediately went towards the north watchtower. Soraseo traveled to the Witchcrafter Guildthe only spot on Snowdrifts other bankwhile our allies spread out on mounts across the city.

I hope we arent too late, I prayed in my heart. Only the north watchtower had been taken over so far, but I had no doubt the Knots were besieging other points as we moved. I hope our marks will protect our minds.

I had come equipped for battle, and the twelve or so soldiers with us had been briefed on what to expect. They were to fall back the moment they smelled any gas or inhaled strange smoke. We couldnt afford to fight our own forces.

Our troupe arrived within sight of the building when I heard flapping wings above the street. I looked up to see a familiar friend riding atop a pegasus.

Alaire? I asked. What are you doing here?

Defending my city, Alaire replied proudly. Much like I traded my ball costume for a metal breastplate, she had come equipped for battle. Mail always fits her better than a gown. Therese will take care of the guests.

Why did I even bother asking? I wondered as we approached the cathedral. Still, good to see her with us.

Though the Arcane Abbey operated multiple churches within Snowdrifts limits, none matched the cathedral south of the Black Keep in grandiosity. This architectural marvel rose majestically in the midst of a paved plaza, its soaring spires surrounded by statues representing the Four Artifacts the Goddess crafted the world withand who oversaw her work in her absence. The Arcane Abbeys lozenge-shaped gilded emblem glittered atop the tallest tower.

However, the area already bore the scars of the Knots arrival. Traces of fresh blood darkened the walls near the entrance, shards of stained glass windows lay scattered on the cobblestone ground, and the carved oaken doors had been smashed open.

And there was the Stonetusk in the room: the half a dozen impaled dead priests in the middle of the plaza. Our foes were in the middle of raising a new stake when we arrived. I counted at least four bloodthirsty cultists, men and women in armor wearing metal masks themed after Belgoroths lion-like face. They had come equipped for battle too: all of them carried bloodied daggers and swords. A murder of crows already flew in circles in the air above the cathedral, waiting for an opportunity to feed on the staked victims below. These dead priests would be nothing more than appetizers for the slaughter to come.

I briefly wondered how such a small group managed to massacre the Abbeys staff until I sensed eyes watching me from above.Embark on an odyssey to the core at Nøv€lß¡n#★

Archfrosts churches avoided using gargoylesit made it easy for the real monsters to hide in plain sightyet two creatures had taken up the job on their own. Eight-foot-tall beasts of bulging muscles and silver fur observed us from elevated spots, their crimson eyes glittering in the darkness. The carved skulls of great horned beasts reshaped into helms hid most of their facial features, except for their beastly snout and sharp fangs. Both of them carried two heavy spears infused with the same fiery essence as my own dagger.

Werewolves.

Of all the beastmen races, none were as dreaded as the werewolves, for they could hide among men easily enough. I heard most went undiscovered, since the transformationacademics could never agree whether it was permanent or notrequired a high degree of stress or exposure to specific phenomenon to trigger. In fact, some werewolves cunningly exchanged their young with newborn human children, causing families to unknowingly raise their brood in their midst.

This is going to be a hard fight, I thought grimly as I drew my rapier and dagger.

Robin, the roof, Colmar warned me.

He pointed at the tallest tower. The bronze bell was gone, replaced with a pile of firewood and wood barrels which I assumed were filled with chemicals. Two figures were putting the finishing touches on the infernal contraption: a strange, lanky gentleman nearly as tall as the werewolves and dressed in purple wool; and an alchemist wearing a similar outfit as Colmar, with the exception that their gas mask resembled a leather wolfs face rather than a bird.

I recognized the former as Chastel from his description, while his accomplice was probably Mother Wolf, the Knot of Wraths leader.

We arent too late, I thought with relief. Thanks to the curfew, most of the citys citizens were safely at home. No risk of melee so far.

I didnt need to say anything. Alaire immediately flew straight at the tower with her sword raised for the kill. The werewolves on the wall let out a screeching howl loud enough to wake the dead, alerting the cultists to our presence while the wolf-masked alchemist turned in Alaires direction.

Onward! I shouted at the soldiers while leading the charge myself. Dont let them light the pyre! For Snowdrift!

For Snowdrift! my men shouted back, their spears and swords raised for battle.

The wolf-masked alchemist turned in Alaires direction, their gloved hands surging with the sick yellow light of Belgoroths flame. A focused burst of hellfire surged from her cylindrical filter straight at Alaires mount. Meanwhile, Chastel nonchalantly tossed a torch onto the pyre and started setting it ablaze.

I charged straight into the melee, guided by my purchased and trained skills and empowered by my mark. A cultist raised a sword to engage me in melee, only for my rapier to gut him. Weapons clashed around me to the tune of beastly roars.

On one hand, we had the Knots members outnumbered. They might be well-trained and armed, but they were still humans from what my magical sight could tell. On the other hand, the two werewolves swiftly jumped from atop the cathedral and crashed on the plaza with murder on their minds. One of them managed to land on top of one of my soldiers, its twin spears ripping the mans armor and flesh alike. He then charged straight at me, backhanding a guard out of its way with enough strength to send him flying.

The werewolf was frighteningly quick for his size, but a beastman was no demon. My opponent was nowhere as fast as Fenrivos and Soraseos training helped refine my swordsmanship since then. I sidestepped out of his swings way and countered with a thrust of my rapier. I had only recently started practicing essence manipulation under Marikas tutelage, but she had taught me how to transfer steel essence into my weapon to strengthen it. My blade pierced through the beasts hand sinews and forced it to drop one of his weapons. The werewolf let out a furious roar as his thick red blood spilled onto the cobblestones.

The other one lunged at Colmar with equal ferocity. The Alchemist dodged a spear thrust to the head with amazing footwork and then slammed the cobblestone ground with his hand. The very ground beneath the werewolfs feet melted into a pit of mud. The beastman hopped away to avoid being trapped, allowing soldiers to flank it. A spear gored through its flank, though it did little more than anger it. One of the cultists was already down for the count, a sword stuck in his throat. The rest were falling back towards the cathedrals oaken door under my soldiers relentless assault.

It had taken time, but my skill-sharing efforts and Soraseos training had paid off. Snowdrift finally possessed a city watch worthy of defending it.

While the battle was going well, I knew our foes only meant to delay us. I managed to find a moment to glance at the sky. Alaires pegasus ran circles around the tower, avoiding fiery projectiles from the alchemist without managing to get close. Chastels pyre grew in intensity, consuming the gathered barrels and unleashing the terrible poison held within them. A noxious yellow smoke infused with Belgoroths murderous essence rose from the tower.

Curses, the night wind already started spreading the gas away from the cathedral. I quickly figured out a drastic solution before it reached our citizens homes.

Colmar! I shouted at my ally while dancing around my werewolf opponent and deftly deflecting a thrust of its spear with my dagger. Destroy the tower!

Most would have balked at such an order, but Colmar knew what was at stake. With the other werewolf too busy bashing our guards shieldwall to intercept him, he dashed towards the cathedrals left side, found the perfect angle for his purpose, and swiftly slammed his hand against the facade. Walls of stone turned to salt and promptly weakened the buildings foundations.

The cathedrals highest tower immediately began to collapse with a terrible crack. I could not tell whether it crumbled on itself or simply lost its balanceI hadnt acquired enough architectural skillsbut the effect was the same: the spire trembled and dangerously leaned to the left.

Colmar hurriedly fled to safety, while Alaire and her mount retreated. Chastel and his accomplice were briefly taken aback, with the masked alchemist nearly stumbling off the belfrys edge. Chastel swiftly abandoned the pyre and then grabbed his compatriot in his arms.

Its coming down! one of my soldiers shouted a warning, though he didnt need to. Everyone, from the guards to the cultists and their werewolf allies, were already running away.

Colmars actions hadnt simply destabilized the central tower; they had weakened the cathedrals entire structure. The walls collapsed onto the plaza in a landslide of stone and dust. I barely had time to catch a glimpse of Chastel leaping off the tower while carrying his accomplice in his arms.

I managed to rejoin Colmar and our soldiers as a cloud of dust swallowed us all. The cathedral collapsed behind us in a thunderous crash that shook the very earth. The central spire collapsed onto the plaza, narrowly missing the closest houses. I narrowly avoided debris, while Colmar nearly tripped.

By the time we regrouped with our surviving allies at the plazas entrance, we could hardly see anything but a pile of rubble surrounded by heavy smoke. I searched for Alaire, and sighed in relief upon noticing her pegasus frame above us.

Casualties? I questioned the soldiers.

One dead and two wounded, one of my guards replied. One of his comrades bled from the flank after taking a werewolf spear to the chest, and another still had a dagger stabbing his shoulder. Colmar immediately grabbed a potion from his bandolier and applied the contents to the wounds. The substance quickly solidified, stopping the bleeding.

My relief was short-lived, however, when I noticed streaks of yellow in the smoke rising from the plaza.

The gas, I whispered. The pyre still remained active. While the towers collapse meant the gas wouldnt progress far, it would still cover the plaza and perhaps the nearby streets. Colmar

If we get close enough, I can turn stone and wood to ice, my friend replied. I would appreciate your assistance in it, Robin.

He needed back-up to protect him. An ally who wouldnt risk turning against him under the gas influence. At this point, our soldiers risked becoming liabilities at best or madmen at worst.

I immediately turned to face the guards. Soldiers, evacuate the area! Go house to house and lead our citizens to safety! Dont let them breathe the gas!

What about you, mlord? the eldest guard asked in return. A howl echoed from within the dust, signaling that at least one of the werewolves made it out of the collapse.

I almost replied the situation would only worsen if the berserk gas infected her until I realized it was already too late. Alaires pegasus was frothing at the mouth, her eyes red-rimmed and bloodshot. Her rider looked better: she was only glaring at Florence with murderous anger.

I remembered Colmars warning well: first heightened aggression, then progression towards berserk rage. Alaire had hit the first stage. Mayhaps she mistook her chemically-induced bloodlust for righteous anger at seeing monsters despoil her city. She retained enough self-control to believe herself in control of her actions.

And it cost her. Florence summoned a wall of flame between herself and Colmar, then swiftly turned around to shoot a burst of flame at Alaire. My friend tried to rein in her pegasus, but the maddened beast did not listen. The burst of fire hit her right wing and caused her to crash among the rubbles while Alaire rolled off her mount into the dust.

Alaire! I cursed and tried to rush to her rescue, only to hear roars coming from the smoke. I barely had time to dodge a sword aiming straight for my chest.

Two of the surviving cultists emerged from the gas to ambush me, snarling and roaring. They swung their weapons with wild abandon. One almost beheaded his own compatriot while trying to cut me down.

Florence hadnt bothered to protect her own troops from her gas.

Colmar, treat Alaires wounds! I shouted at my fellow hero as he rushed around Florences wall of fire. Unfortunately, Florence herself was making a dash at Alaire. Colmar!

I deflected the cultists blows with my dagger, the sheer power behind the strikes sending me reeling. The gas empowered my foes with inhuman strength and an absolute lack of restraint. Still, my heroic mark and skills allowed me to keep up. I dodged a wild swing, stepped closer, and sliced the cultists throat. The blow was lethal, his blood erupting from his neck in a red burst, but the body still kept swinging at me.

I stepped to the right and watched it collapse in a puddle of its own blood, still trashing around like a beheaded chicken. The other cultist was at my throat before his compatriot even hit the ground. I could have gutted him enoughhis madness caused him to abandon all forms of self-preservationif my attention wasnt split in multiple directions.

Wheres Chastel? I thought, my eyes darting left and right while I tried to avoid the cultists strikes. My head hurt too from trying to shake off the gas essence. Alaire was back on her feet while her pegasus agonized, using her spear as a crutch. I cant see him anywhere. He could strike anytime

To my horror, Florence reached Alaire before Colmar and to my utter astonishment, she did not attack.

Lady Alaire. Incredibly, Florence extended a hand to the wounded countess. Are you alright?

Alaire swung her spear at the masked apothecary, missing and nearly collapsing under her own weight.

You have some nerve to show your face here, Florence! Alaire spat with bloodshot eyes. She had recognized the apothecarys voice. How dare you return after murdering my grandfather!

Florence did not retaliate. She simply took a step away from Alaire. You should thank me for it, she said calmly. Your father certainly did.

It said something about her words weight that it caused Alaire to freeze in place, the fury in her mind temporarily overwhelmed by surprise.

Who do you think requested the count to be slain, Alaire? Florence asked while looking over her shoulder. She was now trapped between Alaire and Colmar. I would have killed him quicker, but your sire wanted his demise to be drawn-out and painful. For your mothers sake.

The rage in Alaires eyes returned. Dont you dare mention her

Do you think madness is innate, Lady Alaire? Florence didnt let her answer. Many things can cause insanity. A defect of the brain. Possession. Disease The berserk gas yellow hue reflected on Florences glass goggles. Poison.

You lie. Alaire charged onward with mad rage. Liar!

Her arms froze in mid-motion like her legs and everything else. An invisible force lifted her above ground, twisting her arm until she dropped her spear.

Alaire! Colmar and I shouted at the same time. We both rushed to her rescue and faced obstacles in our way: Florence for him, and the last cultist for me.

Focusing entirely on my foe now that I didnt have to fear Chastels backstabbing, I deftly dodged a wild swing and stabbed my foe through the skull. To my astonishment, my fiery dagger ignited whatever ball of ignorance and falsehood nested within the cultists head. I had poured so much corrupted essence within the blade that it burst out on its own in a hand-sized blaze of yellow fire.

On one hand, it killed the man on the spot so thoroughly his body went limp in an instant. On the other hand, my daggers edge was cracking at the seams. It was only a matter of time before the corrupted essence within caused it to explode.

By the time I pushed the cultists corpse away, Colmar had reached Alaire and suffered the same fate.

An invisible nose tightened around Colmars throat, the grip so strong as to bend leather and metal alike. My friend hastily tried to grab at the force choking him with both his hands. He briefly succeeded, then went limp.

Colmars head swiftly rolled off his shoulder.

There was no shower of blood, no warning, no sound. Only a gas mask falling into the dust, followed by a headless corpse.

Look at that, Milady. Chastels terrible visage gained enough colors to become halfway visible through the smoke. His claws still had some of Colmars leather suit hanging from them. A beheaded chicken.

I had my own suspicions about Colmars true nature. If I was correct, he would survive the blow. It might temporarily incapacitate him, enough that he would require assistance for a while, but he would recover.

But if I was wrong if I was wrong

I couldnt afford to be wrong!

II leaped over the cultists remains, and though my heartbeat quickened tenfold, I managed to keep enough off a cool head not to lower my guard. Years of street fights taught me that much.

It let me sense the spear thrown at me.

I lowered my head, the steel brushing against my hair. The other werewolfthe one my guards had wounded in the chestquickly moved to bar my way. He had lost his weapons and blood poured out of his gashing wound, but his eyes remained alert and frightfully focused.

You are not going anywhere near Mother, the werewolf said. His voice was all the more startling in that it sounded utterly normal, neither cavernously deep nor awe-inspiring. Fraud hero.

He dashed forward, claws and fangs out.

I tried to dodge and get past him to rush at Chastel. I only managed the first part. The beast anticipated my movements and kept me on the back foot. His mind remained sharp and devoid of the madness that infected his allies.

Either the gas did not affect beastmenunlikely since it turned a pegasus rabidor Florence only saw fit to give these two an antidote and leave her human cultists to suffer. It didnt take me long to realize the implications: she cared more about her beastmen followers than the human ones. The codename Mother Wolf suddenly started making a twisted kind of sense.

Shes a werewolf herself, I realized. The kind that can hide among humans.

All the pieces fell into place. I couldnt fathom what she would have to gain from destabilizing Archfrost, but now it made a great deal of sense: she wanted to see it collapse so her kindred could move in.

Do not harm her, Jean, Florence said, calmly but firmly. If she felt anything when staring at Colmars beheaded remains, I couldnt see it behind her mask. Her father wants her alive.

Saddening, Chastel replied before suddenly twisting both of his captives arms.

A terrible noise echoed across the burning plaza, followed by Alaires scream of pain. I clenched my teeth while dodging a lethal backhand. Keep your focus, I told myself. Dont let yourself be distracted.

I did not keep my own advice. I blinked upon noticing another shadow sneaking up on us. She kept a hood over her head, but I recognized her body language.

It is unwise, the werewolf taunted me, unaware of the danger coming at him from behind. My savior had come with a cloak caked in dust, to hide her smell. To lower your defenses

A hand brushed against his back and he collapsed dead.

That was no hyperbole. All life left the werewolfs body in an instant. His breath stopped abruptly, his knees collapsed, and his mighty pulse came to an abrupt end. His hollow eyes still glared at me even in the afterlife.

His killer stepped over the corpse without a hint of pity.

Mersie never showed mercy.