Chapter 127: Charge
Wade rode swiftly through the blizzard on his skeletal mount, spotting flames in the distance. The snow-capped mountains were alight with fire, black smoke billowing upward. It seemed the entire ratfolk cave system had been set ablaze – this barren mountain range grew not a single sapling, leaving only the cavern’s contents to burn.
Through the flames, distant figures became visible. The dragonkin stood with her forces illuminated by firelight, everyone carefully positioned within the light’s radius to avoid shadows.
A dozen black creatures surrounded them, lurking at the edges of darkness. Where firelight touched, the monsters’ forms became clearly visible.
“Stay in the light!” the dragonkin shouted, torch in hand. “They’re shadow demons! They can move through shadow boundaries but can’t hide in bright areas!”
Ratfolk and catfolk alike raised their torches, forming a defensive circle. The flames drew an invisible barrier between the creatures and demi-humans.
Jessia asked anxiously, “My lady, why won’t you act? These shadow demons are beyond us! Couldn’t your master freeze them with magic?”
The dragonkin remained silent, her breathing uneven. The hand gripping her torch trembled slightly.
The shadow demons stopped advancing, gathering together to emit strange, power-laden sounds. The dragonkin and catfolk clutched their heads in agony as the demonic shrieks mixed with firelight to induce hallucinations. The screams tapped into primal fears, dragging victims into nightmarish visions.
The more fragile one’s psyche, the more vulnerable to the shadow demons’ terror.
Only the simple-minded ratfolk remained relatively unaffected, merely covering their ears against the noise. Ratfolk crossbowmen fired bolts that harmlessly bounced off the demons’ chitinous armor.
While some demons maintained their psychic assault, others surged forward. One clamped its razor-sharp mandibles around a crossbowman’s neck – the sickening crack of vertebrae echoed like a guillotine’s fall as the head separated from body.
Blood fountained from the decapitated corpse. Seeing their kin slaughtered, the remaining ratfolk panicked. Fear spread like wildfire through the simple-minded creatures. Torches dropped as they scattered in chaotic disarray, completely abandoning formation.
This was why ratfolk made poor soldiers – their morale shattered too easily, making command impossible.
The chaos had one benefit – the jostling crowd snapped the dragonkin and catfolk from their terror-induced stupor.
Igna knew she had to act. Her hand moved to the Viking sword at her waist, but her grip shook violently, unable to muster strength. Old wounds still plagued her body – she couldn’t fight, couldn’t even draw steel.
Watching the panicking ratfolk, she sank her fangs into her own forearm until blood flowed. Pain brought clarity.
Her golden slit pupils contracted sharply as draconic majesty radiated from her being. Everyone – even the shadow demons – felt the terrifying pressure of her aura.
The attacking demons retreated into shadows. The fleeing ratfolk froze in place. Jessia looked at Igna’s back, believing the lich’s envoy would finally take action.
But Igna knew this was just a bluff.
That aura was her only remaining trick – an empty threat. Against timid beasts, draconic majesty might scare them off. But these were shadow demons – predatory insects from the Shadow Realm where only the strong survived. They fed on fear, incapable of feeling it themselves.
They retreated not from fear, but to assess their prey.
Even against a true dragon, they’d simply seek weak points before swarming to strip flesh from bone with their pincer-like mouthparts.
Igna felt countless eyes upon her – she’d become the primary target. All shadow demons converged on her position, moving through darkness, probing for weaknesses, waiting for her to falter.
These weren’t mindless killers but highly intelligent creatures – each at least Silver-rank mid-tier demons. An entire cavalry regiment would be annihilated against such foes.
Demons of this caliber shouldn’t manifest so easily in the material plane.
Igna didn’t understand what was happening, only that things had gone terribly wrong. She might die tonight.
She could only maintain her draconic presence, though it drained her mental reserves. Normally she’d release such pressure instantly – never sustaining it this long.
Needle-like pain stabbed her temples as if someone stirred her brains with a rod. But showing weakness meant being torn apart by swarming demons.
How naive she’d been…
Always thinking she controlled the situation, yet again she’d miscalculated.
Hiding away, hoping things would resolve themselves. The old her would’ve noticed the anomalies sooner. The old her wouldn’t have hidden – had she contacted the Icelanders earlier, spotted the signs of demonic incubation, this could’ve been prevented.
Before the magical tides arrived, demons needed costly rituals to manifest. Stopping those rituals would’ve been simpler than fighting the summoned horrors.
But regrets came too late. If not for her foolishness, her people might still live peacefully in their forests.
Her skull felt ready to split. Igna could sustain the aura no longer.
Jessia remained oblivious, still believing in the dragonkin’s power, thankful for the lich’s protection.
Igna wanted to scream that her protection was false, but lacked even the breath to speak.
Just as her draconic presence faltered, the flames behind her suddenly shifted.
Fire streamed upward from the caves, illuminating the sky like midday. Shadow demons lost their hiding places as light banished all darkness.
Only then, while straining to maintain her aura, did Igna notice Wade’s return.
Silent as death itself, he’d approached unseen – even by the demons.
He raised his sword, light gathering along its edge.
The stance was unmistakable – the basic warrior technique “Charge” that any professional would recognize.
But the power unleashed defied all expectations.
In an instant, a storm of snow erupted as skeletal energy carved a line through the blizzard.
The demonic shrieks cut off abruptly. Chitinous limbs scattered like shrapnel in the blast.