[TLQ] 50. Last Leg (Patreon)

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Last Leg

After the Warden joined the battle, the flight through the tunnels turned into a slaughter.

Malakai was unsure what had happened to Wraith and the mystic, but they had grown stronger by miles. It must be what upgraded Radi’s ghouls. The patches of frost on the ghoul’s hide had hardened, grey skin darkened. Icy claws retracted, leaving the creatures without a natural weapon. Until a massive dagger burst out of the skin on their knuckles, an elongated blade of ice that would carve deep into the soft skin of any orc. Black mana whirled through the blades like clouds—just looking at it sent shivers down Malakai’s spine. He was glad the transformation finished with something less threatening: layers of frost that grew around the chest, neck and head of the ghoul, embracing it with maternal love.

The orcs had stopped pouring through the other end of the tunnel, and the number of demons charging their position slowed down to a trickle.

‘They’re trying to escape,’ Malakai said.

‘Let them,’ the Warden said while cutting open the neck of a demon. ‘They are fleeing towards the brood mother for shelter. We’ll take her out while we’re at it.’

‘Anything that will kill the fuckers,’ Ian heaved. He was leaning against a side-wall, cradling his knee. Ellen was strapping his legs with cloth ripped from the corpse of an orc.

‘I thought she had the ability to heal?’

‘Only the dead,’ the Warden said. She glanced at Ian.

‘Please do not ask,’ he said before she could get anything out.

Wraith shrugged. ‘Then you’ll need to toughen out the pain. Ending the brood takes priority.’

‘We can have him return with the squire?’ Malakai said.

The squire had found some surprising use during the battle, but it wasn’t as if he could reach his full potential in the underground. Besides, Malakai thought the undead was growing…uneasy.

‘Possible,’ the Warden said.

The Warden gave Malakai his orders: feed Radi and Tina. The apprentice and sorcerer were to reach the next stage by the end of the day. In reality, that boiled down to watching the two female undead go around and suck up the death from the many corpses. The automatic process was boring enough to have Malakai yawning and almost rubbing his eyes with gauntlets covered in blood—

‘How are you experiencing your meals?’

His tiredness was why he yelped, he convinced himself.

‘My what, Warden?’

Wraith hovered beside him. Malakai thought the undead was suppressing a smile.

‘Your meals,’ she said. ‘You’re absorbing a small amount of death miasma each time you kill, aren’t you?’

‘Ah…yes. I feel it crawling up my blade and settle in my stomach. I think.’

It was quite disturbing, though one grew used to it.

‘The stomach is where the seat of any mage’s power is located.’ She pressed a digit to his belly. The miasma he didn’t normally feel, unless he was battling, grew cold, allowing him to visualise it. Though it was in a general area in his stomach, the energy wasn’t contained and swirled around aimlessly.

‘When you’re ready,’ the Warden said, ‘I will teach you a way to condense your power.’

‘Condense?’

‘I said when you’re ready,’ she scolded him. ‘For now, you need to work on being able to visualise your miasma at all times and creating a steady flow of mana throughout your body.’

‘How—’

She pointed at his pouch. ‘Take out your mouse.’

Malakai felt a little bit silly doing so but sure. He held the dead critter in his palm, showing it to his liege as if it was a great prize. As he did, the sense of cold in his stomach returned as if the Warden was still holding her finger against his stomach.

‘You’ll be holding onto it whenever possible,’ the Warden said,. ‘Try to imagine grabbing hold of your miasma, rotating, and pushing it into the critter. I’ll feed your energy back.’

‘So it’s a loop?’ Malakai said, turning the mouse in his hand and viewing it in a new light.

‘We call it cycling, but yes. As you get better, I’ll make the exercise more difficult.’

And how he was looking forward to that. He did not specify sarcasm, for he was unsure if the Warden was listening to his thoughts (judging from the slight curve to her lips, she was).

Being ordered to hold a dead mouse was strange enough, but then the Warden gave him an even more unusual command.

‘Say “status screen”.’

The guard captain’s brow raised. But the Warden didn’t retract her order, leaving him with no choice. 

‘Status screen,’ he said.

A pause.

‘See anything?’ she said.

‘No…’

Had she been hit in the head during her battle…should that even matter? She was controlling a minion.

‘I see,’ she said. Strange, she muttered.

Malakai waited but any further comments occurred in her head.

Moments passed before the Warden regarded him again. ‘You may forget what I said. Perhaps it will be relevant later.’

‘I’ll be ready,’ he said.

‘I’m sure you will.’ She turned to Ian, who was too occupied being in pain to follow their talk. ‘He needs to reach the surface.’

Sooner rather than later, Malakai thought, rubbing his chest at the sight of his friend. He hated seeing him like this.

The Warden motioned to his pouch again. ‘Give Ellen the core. She will escort Ian and the squire to ensure its safety.’

The priest was standing stock still at the rear of their party, her guardians milling about beside her. Why were they still out? They were no longer fighting.

‘Training,’ the Warden answered.

Malakai handed Ellen the core. If she was making Ellen train around the clock, it was no surprise she was instructing him to do the same.

He had some catching up to do.

‘I’ll notify you when my scouts find the den,’ the Warden said.

‘Are you leaving?’ he questioned.

‘Nerya…I suppose you don’t know who that is,’ the Warden said. ‘Levi discovered a disturbing site in Winterforge.’

‘Levi? Is he alright?’ He realised the futility of his question as it left his mouth. The Warden was here speaking casually with him.

‘He’s alright. I’ll catch you up on everything later.’

‘Thank you, Warden.’ He saluted and Wraith turned lifeless once more.

Malakai glanced around.

There was work to do.

‘This is without a doubt a summoning circle,’ Father said.

Nerya and Varrick had gone to retrieve him the moment they discovered the cellar. Right now, the dark cellar was like a furnace, the walls strapped with torches and lanterns to illuminate the entirety of the space. Not one of the villagers busy collecting evidence had it in them to speak. And Nerya understood them all too well. No one had said anything out in the open but many suspected “the outsiders” had something to do with the arrival of the demons. How could it be a coincidence that Winterforge, their village which they had protected for over a century, fell once “they” arrived. Well, here was the reason...

‘I cannot believe it,’ Nerya whispered. All the death and destruction of yesterday…

Father rubbed her shoulder. ‘Only those you trust can back stab you.’

She was quiet.

Varrick wasn’t. ‘But why? There’s nothing they could gain from betraying us like this!’

‘Demons are a cunning race.’

The Ebonfrosts turned at the sound of the Warden’s voice. The staircase creaked underneath the big undead’s weight. ‘They are born in a realm beyond our own, yet they long to enter our world. And so since ancient times, they have learned what makes the lesser but more fortunate races tick.’ She stopped beside them. ‘The magus requires knowledge and power. Gold clouds the dreams of the beggar. In that way we all have our weakness. That one thread which may be spun and tightened to string us along.’

The room had stopped what it was doing to listen to her speak.

Father spoke up. ‘Our family has ruled Winterforge for generations. Over that time, there have been some that disagreed with our way of doing things.’

No names were spoken, for there was still an outsider in their mix, but everyone knew the families he spoke of.

‘Greed is the bane of humanity,’ the Warden said. ‘I suspect there will be more of such like in the village. This one circle alone cannot have been solely responsible for the number of demons that were present.’

‘It is so.’ Father turned to one of the servants. ‘Send out the word—the cellar of every family is to be scoured.’

You could’ve heard a pin drop.

‘Father,’ Nerya said, ‘that might be—’

‘Demons,’ he said so sharp it almost made Nerya jump, ‘have trampled our village. And now a summoning circle has been found underneath our Prayer Hall…our Prayer Hall.’

The weight of this words slammed onto the shoulders of their people and made shoulders slump.

‘Send the word,’ Father repeated, and the servant fled to do his bidding.

The Warden spied on the exiting servant from the corner of her vision. ‘The presence of these circles still doesn’t explain the disappearance of my mage.’

‘It is possible the same fate befell her as that of my people,’ Father said.

Just then, the ruined corpses of their clansmen were dragged to the surface on stretchers.

‘I have seen her skill firsthand,’ Varrick said. ‘She would have been more attentive to the changes in mana. Perhaps she decided to investigate by herself and stumbled upon one of the ritual sites?’

‘Then going alone was her mistake,’ Father added.

‘Perhaps,’ the Warden said. ‘However, Chief Arnok, I do hope you’re aware that if that is the case, the responsibility of Leah’s death falls in your hands?’

A silence of a moment.

‘You cannot be serious!’ Varrick said.

The Warden’s brow raised.

‘…that is not a fair assessment, Warden,’ Varrick corrected himself.

‘No?’ she said. ‘Winterforge has been offered its full independence over the years precisely because its leadership was so adamant about it. Now that very same leadership has allowed demonic summoners into their midst. If I had not been here with my forces, Winterforge may very well have fallen.’

‘But…’ started Varrick, and the Warden froze the words in his throat with a harsh glance.

‘It is not only your fate that rests in your hands,’ she continued. ‘Winterforge is an important link in the chain of our economy. Should Winterforge fall, the Duchy may very well follow it.’

The Warden, looming more than ever in this cramped cellar, turned towards Father. ‘If you cannot keep your village safe, then I will. I am certain you understand that, Chief Arnok.’

‘Entirely, Warden.’

She held his gaze. ‘Good.’ The Warden turned and left the cellar.

Leah coughed. A clot of blood exited her mouth and splashed on the ground. Her sight was blurry. She couldn’t quite remember what had happened, but that she was in this state told her enough.

Air rasped through her throat. This should’ve been the easy part.

So how had she ended up in this scenario?