Emerald, p.35
Emerald, page 35
A higher title of nobility would mean more wealth, more power, and more opportunity. That meant that he would need to come in first in this challenge. Even if Victoria didn’t make it into the top seven, which he very much doubted, she would still be ahead. But, Sindra had mentioned bonus points, though he wasn’t sure what that would entail.
“The castle is twenty miles due north of here. It was abandoned many years ago, and the soldiers who will be defending it are mere constructs. They are figments built by a powerful artifact lent to us by His Majesty for this stage in the competition. As such, there is no need to hold back. As of right now, the challenge has started. Good luck to you all!”
This time, nobody waited around. Everyone began rushing for their various coaches to gather their forces. Arbor, on the other hand, had another idea.
“Who do we have here, aside from the two of you?” Arbor asked as he headed to his waiting coach.
“No one,” Grak said.
“I thought as much,” he muttered, making his way around to the front of the coach instead of the rear.
“I don’t like the look in your eye, lad,” Hord said as Arbor ordered the coachman to begin unhitching the horses. “Please don’t tell me that you’re doing what I think you’re doing.”
“I am,” Arbor replied, cinching the straps on his armor a bit tighter. “If we leave now, we’ll have a major head start on everyone else. We all have our weapons here, and I’m confident the three of us can handle it.”
“Are you forgetting that we can literally be facing an army in there?!” Grak exclaimed as the first of the horses was unhitched.
“No, but no one said we had to charge our way in yelling and screaming, now did they?” Arbor asked, grabbing the reins.
There would be no time to saddle them up as that would require an extra trip and time they didn’t have, so they’d essentially be riding bareback, aside from the reins.
“This is madness, pure madness!” Hord exclaimed, but the wide grin plastered across his face told Arbor that he was looking forward to it.
“Men!” huffed Grak, “The two of you will be the death of me.”
“And what a glorious death it will be!” Hord exclaimed, taking the reins of the second horse.
Arbor helped him onto the beast’s back while the third was unhitched, then he mounted his own. The whole process took maybe three minutes – the coachman was good at his job – but by the time they were all mounted up, the square was empty.
“Tell Frunk where we’ve gone,” Arbor told the man. “And tell him not to send reinforcements. If he insists, tell him it’s an order, understood?”
The man nodded before moving to reposition the last horse. Arbor spun in a circle, guiding his mount with his knees and the reins. It would be difficult riding without a saddle, not to mention uncomfortable, but they would manage.
“You ready?” Arbor asked, throwing one last look over his shoulder.
Grak shrugged noncommittally, though she looked far from happy at the arrangement. Hord, by contrast, was grinning from ear to ear, his short legs clutched tightly to his horse’s flanks.
“Let’s go kick some ass!” he roared, pumping a fist in the air, then nearly fell as he horse reared.
Arbor resisted the urge to laugh, though it was close. To cover himself, he turned back and urged his horse into a trot, resolved to take first place this time, no matter what.
44
The ride was not an easy one. More than once, Arbor was tempted to simply get off and run, but the need to keep his strength in reserve kept him where he was. The air outside was brisk and cold; the sun slowly rising into the sky and warming them somewhat. It was no longer as bitterly cold as it had been the previous few weeks, and signs of spring were beginning to show.
Flocks of wild birds, those who migrated to warmer climates in the winter, could be seen flying overhead as they rode, though they were still few and far between. They were all bundled up, as riding would chill them to the bone, especially with the whipping wind making it feel colder than it actually was.
The castle came into view at around half-past seven, a massive structure towering out of the surrounding forest. It was covered in moss and lichen, its towers crawling with ivy and covered in cracks. It didn’t look at all as safe as it had in the illusion cast by Earl Wulrick, though Arbor couldn’t fault either of them. Sindra had said it had been abandoned for quite some time, so it would stand to reason that it would be in disrepair.
“Alright,” Arbor called out. “We’re going to circle to the north and leave our horses there. Most will be coming from the south, so we can avoid being spotted if we’re careful.”
The two called out an affirmative, and Arbor adjusted his course. It took them another thirty minutes before they were picketing their horses in a thicket of trees that would hide them from prying eyes. They would still need to walk a good ten minutes to reach the castle, but this way, they could hopefully avoid detection.
They were a small group and would be at a major disadvantage against anything larger, especially since some of them would be teaming up. But Arbor had confidence in their abilities.
“Alright, now where is the throne room most likely to be?” he asked, as they made their way into the shadow of the palace walls.
They were near the center-back, and Arbor could see an open window some twenty feet above them. Seeing as the walls were covered in ivy, this would be their way in.
“Knowing human architecture, the idiots would likely have put it right at the center,” Hord said with a snort.
“And dwarves are much smarter, sticking it in the deepest part of the city with no escape route,” Arbor said sarcastically.
“Exactly!” Hord said, “This way, the last one reached will always be the king, and if it comes to that, it means everyone who could defend him has already died.”
“I get that,” Grak said, nodding along with the dwarf’s logic.
“No, that makes no sense,” Arbor argued. “A good king should lead by example and fight out in front.”
“That’s too risky for a leader,” Hord disagreed.
“Sure, it’s risky, but that’s why you have a second in command. The leader doesn’t need to be out in front the entire time, but still, he should be out there fighting for his people.”
“Is this really the time?!” Grak hissed. “We have a massive lead over the others. Are we really going to waste it by bickering?”
“No, you’re right,” Arbor said. “We should get going. I’ll…”
“No, you won’t!” Grak said, snagging a vine and beginning to haul herself up. “I’ll lead, and Hord will bring up the rear.”
“Looks like I’ll get a great view of your pretty ass as we climb,” Hord teased him.
Arbor grinned, feeling the tension in his chest ease somewhat. Now that they were there, he realized how tense he’d become. There was a lot riding on this, and he had no idea what they’d be facing inside. He’d never fought a construct before. In fact, he hadn’t even known they’d existed.
Then again, this was magic, so he shouldn’t be surprised that someone could make an entire army. This only highlighted the king’s strength. If he had an artifact that could make an army, and he was willing to go so far as to lend it out, then what other powerful treasures could he be keeping for himself?
Arbor found himself once again fingering the medallion behead his shirt and wondering at its significance. It had to be extremely valuable if someone was willing to kill an entire village simply to obtain it. However, he still had no idea what it did. That was something he’d have to figure out later, though, as Grak was far enough off the ground for him to begin climbing.
He immediately felt the strain on his arms as he hauled himself up. It wasn’t bad, as he was more than strong enough to climb a twenty-foot wall. It was child’s play, really. Hord started up behind him soon after, and it wasn’t long before Grak vanished into the open window.
Arbor pulled himself through a moment later, though it was a bit of a squeeze for him in his full armor. He landed softly on the dust-covered ground, looking around the surrounding gloom for any signs of attack. If he’d had a hard time getting through, for Hord, it was nearly impossible.
They finally had to admit defeat after nearly ten minutes of yanking and grunting. Arbor had to slice away a section of the window, using a bit of his magic to make a precise cut. He’d been forced to hide the Origin magic other than his Mage sight and Perception Field since the competition started, and it was nice to be able to use it with his newly learned control.
“Well, damn me if that wasn’t something!” Hord exclaimed, rubbing at his ribs.
The dwarf was just doing it for show, as he was dressed in a full set of light chainmail. That window couldn’t have hurt him, even if it had been lined with bird-repelling spikes.
“Shhh!” both Arbor and Grak hissed at the same time.
“Oops, forgot where I was for a minute,” Hord said with a sheepish grin. “So, where to now, fearless leader?”
“The center of the castle,” Arbor said, drawing his glaive and giving it an experimental twirl.
It always felt good to have the green and brown Mythicallium weapon in his hands. It was light as air, yet he knew that belied its true strength. The blade could cut through almost anything with ease, and it hit with all the power of a real weapon with a tenth of the effort. That was not to mention that he could put his considerable, magic-enhanced strength behind it without fear of chipping the blade or breaking the weapon.
“Sounds good to me,” Hord said, drawing his massive hammer. “I’ll take the lead then.”
Grak nodded, drawing her rapier and moving behind him.
“Keep your eyes sharp and your wits about you,” Arbor said. “My Perception Field only gives me ten feet.”
“So, why not use your Mage sight?” Hord asked as they moved off at a swift jog.
“It doesn’t give me nearly as much information,” Arbor replied, keeping his voice low. “And in most situations, feeling out enemies that don’t want to be seen is better than seeing farther away.”
“Good point, I’m with you on…” Hord trailed off as they rounded a corner and came face to face with a group of bright, silver-gray figures.
They were humanoid and featureless but carried a wide variety of weapons. There were fifteen in all, and as one, they all turned blank faces to stare at them. Maybe stare wasn’t right, since they lacked eyes, but it was disconcerting all the same. Instead of charging as he’d expected, the group quickly filed into an organized line, then moved forward as a unit.
“Well, it looks like it’s time to smash some shit!” Hord yelled, before charging forward, hammer whirling overhead.
“You heard the man,” Arbor said, pumping his body full of magic.
He didn’t add enough to place any sort of strain on himself, merely enhancing his physical prowess to roughly twice that of an average man. He would be able to ratchet up the intensity in the blink of an eye if needed, but for now, he wanted to conserve his strength. He also didn’t dare use any Origin magic, for fear that the artifact used to create these things could record such information.
Arbor’s glaive flickered out, taking one of the gray men in the abdomen. Instead of bleeding, the construct began leaking a reddish light from where the blade had struck. And when Arbor twirled his weapon, decapitating the thing, it shattered, showering them in motes of red and silver light.
“Now this is what I’m talking about!” yelled Hord, swinging his hammer in wide circles, both defending and attacking at the same time.
Odd tinkling sounds came from the constructs as his hammer impacted, shattering them into fragments of light. Grak was likewise engaged, easily blocking attacks and skewering the constructs in vital areas to bring them down.
Arbor moved through a basic form as he danced among the seemingly sluggish constructs, his glaive flickering out in short stabs rather than sweeping slashes, and delivering blunt strikes from the spiked end. It was far faster and more efficient this way, and within a minute, they’d destroyed the entire group.
“Is it just me, or was that too easy?” Grak asked, as the last motes of light faded from view.
“Definitely not you, lass,” Hord replied, suspiciously eyeing the spot where the constructs had been. “If I were a betting dwarf, and I am, I’d say that they’ll get harder the farther in we make it. Even though it’s obvious where the throne room is, it can take us hours just to reach the center, with how big this place is.”
“Agreed,” Arbor said, “We’d best get a move on if we want to maintain our lead.”
“Yeah, yeah, keep your pants on, I’m going,” Hord said, setting off at a jog once more.
At this point in the competition, Arbor had grown used to slowing his pace for others, so their current speed wasn’t at all frustrating. Sure, he wished he could move faster, but there was little he could do about that now, so he just had to go with the flow.
“Looks like we’ve got another group of uglies up ahead,” Hord called, snapping Arbor from his thoughts.
Sure enough, another group, this one comprised of twenty, was slowly making their way toward them. The corridor was quite wide, more than enough for them to be able to fight. This fight was just as short as the last, with them destroying the constructs in less than a minute before setting out once more.
They heard no signs of anyone else entering the castle, and since they were traveling in relative silence, any loud noises would be quite audible. They came to the end of the corridor and were faced with a decision, as the hallway stretched to either side. Unfortunately, they had no idea which would take them farther in.
“Standing around won’t help us at all,” Arbor said. “Let’s just go right and hope for the best.”
There was nothing else they could really do. The constructs weren’t alive, and so they made no noise for him to follow. They also did not seem to exist to his Mage sight – he’d tried and failed to locate its source as well – so now they were flying blind, just as everyone else there would be.
Neither Grak nor Hord had any objections, and so, with the dwarf in the lead, they headed right, and they hoped, deeper into the castle.
45
Karria and Kya crouched behind the cover of some low bushes as they watched the approaching patrol. As it turned out, there were twelve of them, which further stacked the odds against them. However, they had an advantage that the soldiers did not; magic.
“Do you think you can mind-control any of them to attack the others?” Karria asked in a low voice.
“I…I don’t know if I want to do that,” Kya answered, sounding very afraid. “It’s just that I’ve never really been much of a fighter, you know. I don’t like the idea of hurting people, especially when I can feel what they can.”
“Kya, if we’re going to survive, you’re going to have to get over this hesitation to kill,” Karria said, trying to find the best solution to their current dilemma.
Kya’s magic would have been the best option. Take control of a few of the soldiers and have them kill each other off. However, if she was unwilling, there would be no convincing her now, and they simply didn’t have the time.
“You don’t understand,” Kya hissed back, sounding defensive. “You don’t have my magic, so you can’t. These people all have hopes, dreams, loved ones that they want to go back to. I know that they need to be stopped, but I just don’t have the strength to do it on my own!”
Karria gritted her teeth, finally seeing a resemblance between her and Sylvester. He’d also been leery of killing, and it had nearly cost her her life on more than one occasion. Now, there was zero hesitation. She would kill, and she would feel no remorse. It was either her or them, and she valued her own life far more than those of some random thugs out to conscript, enslave, or kill innocent people.
Still, though she’d run through the exercise of following multiple tracks of power, she hadn’t done any actual training. She did have a basic understanding of what Silver was going for, but nothing more than that. She had no choice but to try, so concentrating on her magic, Karria began to forge a weapon.
She was no longer in Nexus, and the ambient magic was almost non-existent, so she would have to be careful not to overdo it. As soon as the soldiers saw the glow of her magic, they whirled on her, letting out a shout of surprise.
“Looks like we found a couple!” one of them shouted as Karria fought to bring her creation into the world. “The boss will be happy with these!”
“You bet he will!” another man yelled.
“A nice pair of lookers too,” a third put in.
They were approaching carelessly, sure that two girls couldn’t do much against them, though the leader of the group couldn’t quite place where the glow was coming from. Then, before their eyes, a massive bow, shimmering with brown and gold light, appeared before their eyes.
“Mage!” someone shouted, right before an arrow the size of a small tree trunk impaled him through the chest.
“Scatter and surround them!” the commander shouted, “She can’t hit us all!”
That was where he was wrong. Eleven arrows appeared on the bowstring at once. Then, as though drawn by an invisible hand, the oversized string bent back before releasing its payload.
Despite the fact that all of the men had begun to scatter, every single arrow found its mark. Screams of pain echoed through the forest as limbs were torn free, bones were crushed, and internal organs turned to mush. Sweat beaded on Karria’s brow as she dismissed the bow and conjured a dagger, before sending it spinning through the air, slashing the throats of the few soldiers still alive after her initial attack.
It seemed that she’d had nothing to worry about after all. Controlling the massive bow with just the power of her will over her magic had been enough. It seemed that the exercises Silver had had her doing, not only strengthened her mind and body, but gave her the control she’d lacked up until now.
