49. The Chimera

A ripple of gasps and prayers went through the ragged line of defenders atop the wall. There was a moment of hesitation as seasoned Heroes and fresh apprentices alike balked at the sight of this monstrosity.

“Target Evangel!” Bloodhound barked, stood atop the wall just above the gates. He pointed at Evangel with his whole hand. “Show him everything the Heroes’ Guild has to offer!”

That broke the spell, at least partially. Heroes fired their abilities. Apprentices loosed their arrows. Evangel was riddled with over a dozen arrows, and one of Gantho’s bombs went off just a meter or two next to him, showering the Beast with shrapnel.

He didn’t slow down.

He hardly seemed to notice.

Evangel continued towards the gates. He shambled at the same pace, slow and jerky, drawing ever closer.

It took a few volleys for everyone to realize that their attacks were ineffective. Bloodhound ordered them to spread out their attacks and sent Conversia away down the wall.

What’s he planning? Kiren wondered, feverishly searching for some sign that Bloodhound knew what he was doing. We can’t let Evangel just wander right up and batter down the gates.

Conversia returned with Songbird—the bard clad in a tattered cloak of many colors—a lute resting against his shoulder. Bloodhound nodded with satisfaction.

“Ranged fighters, prepare to give it everything you have on my mark!” the Guild Leader called. “Focus fire on the spawnlings! Keep them away from the gates! Our close-range fighters will handle Evangel.”

Songbird strummed up a tune on his instrument, quick and easy. The notes rose over the din, carried through the sounds of fighting and death.

Somehow, the song filled Kiren with a sense of calm, and an unexplainable, bubbling excitement at the bottom of his stomach, a desire to act that couldn’t be ignored. It brought strength to his muscles, and he found himself tapping his foot impatiently, wishing he could leap down the wall and take on every damn spawnling by himself.

The archers seemed similarly affected. Their rate of fire increased significantly, and more creatures fell screaming as they attempted to reach the bottom of the wall.

Evangel continued unimpeded.

Kiren saw something out of the very corner of his eye. He looked up and saw Steelfeather rising high into the air, becoming small as he rapidly put several dozen meters between himself and the ground.

Goldcoin came up on the wall atop the gates, clutching a cloth bundle. He grinned like a child. His gold teeth glinted in the sparse light

“Ooh, I’ve been looking to try this for a while, now,” he said. “May I, Guild Master?”

Bloodhound nodded. “Clear the ground.”

Goldcoin grinned even wider and unwrapped the bundle he was holding. Inside was a stone about the size of a fist, rubbed smooth and spherical with runes drawn on its surface. Handfuls of coins were stuck to its surface haphazardly.

He threw the object over the wall, down at the writhing spawnlings clawing at the gates.

“Coin Flip!” Goldcoin shouted, tapering off into a shrill cackle.

The stone sphere burst midair in a bright explosion. Coins flew out in all directions.

A bright flash of light blew out Kiren’s vision. He blinked rapidly, and when he could next see, nearly a hundred Beasts lay dead at the foot of the wall, each pierced by a single hole. Only Evangel remained standing amid a great swath of death.

Not one defender had been hit by the shrapnel.

“Can I get some love for my finishing move, pretty people?” Goldcoin said, spinning around with his arms thrown up.

There was a roar of approving cries from the defenders on the wall, apprentices in particular, and Songbird strummed his lute to match their enthusiasm.

“Focus!” Bloodhound barked, spit flying from his muzzle. “Keep that spot clear at all costs!” He held up a hand, palm outstretched.

He pointed it at Evangel.

There was a sound of sudden, thundering footsteps. Kiren looked back just in time to see Titaness leap onto the wall next to Bloodhound, then bound with a single step over the top, landing on the other side with a shockwave that went through Kiren’s entire body.

She wore a ludicrously sized breastplate with pauldrons and wielded her great, iron ball-and-chain.

Using the momentum of her landing, she brought the ball down on Evangel’s head. Bone crunched, muscles squelched, and the wooden mask cracked. The ball bounced back up, and she kicked him away from her with a leg thicker than a tree trunk.

Evangel stumbled, sliding several meters, and caught himself by digging a nine-fingered hand into the ground.

“You perfect fools,” he grunted, voice distorted as if he had a stone lodged in his throat. He stood back up and raised his hands. “You will taste the flames of—”

A grey streak collided with him at a velocity Kiren’s eyes could hardly comprehend, and the monster was knocked off his feet, crushed into a shallow impact crater.

Steelfeather was on top of Evangel, packing him with blows that carried enough force to cave in his putrid chest.

Evangel cried out in a language that defied understanding. Harsh syllables that cut through Kiren’s hearing.

Spawnlings surged to protect their master, but the archers atop the wall were ready for them. They focused fire on the Beasts rushing in, keeping the semi-circular arena before the gates clear of enemies.

Focusing on the gates meant that the spawnlings attempting to scale the walls received a wider margin of opportunity. Kiren drew his sword and got to the edge of the wall, slashing down at the climbers. Many-limbed horrors fell away screaming from his spot as well as further down the wall, where other apprentices had had the same idea.

Kiren was heartened to see Titaness and Steelfeather thoroughly trounce Evangel in their arena of Beast corpses. Haden and Lace fought next to him, the former with sword and shield, the latter firing arrows into the attacking force.

Despite their apparent advantage, a strange sense of unease overcame him. There was an electric tension in the air.

Kiren looked around for the source of this disturbance.

It seemed that Lace had noticed it as well, because she dropped her bow to clutch her head, teeth gritted and eyes screwed shut.

Kiren spun, facing the courtyard.

It was mostly empty apart from a small force that stayed in reserve in case one section of the wall needed reinforcing. The civilians had been taken inside the Guild Hall, where they would be safer in case of a breach.

One man walked confidently across the courtyard, headed for the gates. An apprentice, it looked like. He held something in his right hand—a staff of some kind.

The apprentice raised the staff, and an eye opened atop its crest.

A bolt of dark lightning shot from that eye, hitting the gate below.

A rumble went through the entire wall. Men cried out.

The gates shattered completely, thrown to rotten smithereens and scattered so that the portal into the Lodge stood open as a toothless, gaping mouth.

Kiren could only gape along with it.

The staff coiled around the apprentice’s arm like a snake. It tightened and easily broke his arm, causing him to lose his grip on the staff and fall on one knee.

From there, the staff settled around his neck. With one quick movement, it snapped the youth’s neck, and he fell over to one side while the staff slithered clear of the body.

A great, hissing rumble of a laugh sounded over the battlefield.

Kiren looked back as Evangel retaliated against one of Steelfeather’s punches with a blow to the stomach that sent him reeling. He grabbed the Hero by the back of the head and slammed him into the stone.

Free once more, Evangel stood. He tanked a hit from Titaness’s ball-and-chain to his mangled chest.

“It is time!” Evangel called, his voice filled with dark glee. “Beware, Heroes! Your age is at an end!”

*****

Maxim moved with determination.

His body was overcome with injury, but the pain was muted, disconnected from himself.

He had only one goal.

To bring them back.

He wouldn’t stop for anything until he achieved that end.

Maxim needed to get through that gate. Nasaizh spurred him on. It was imperative. He could sense the keen presence of the thing that had torn down the doors. Whatever it was, Nasaizh wanted to have it.

The Hero Titaness was in his way, spinning that nasty iron ball.

He dove for her, hundreds of kilos of putrid flesh hurtling with him.

They crashed together, and Maxim tore the ball-and-chain from her hand, which thumped heavily to the ground. He swung, and she ducked with surprising speed. While he was trying to wind back his arm, she came up with an uppercut that snapped his head back and knocked the remains of his mask off his head.

A dark sky polluted with smoke and the ember glow of firelight greeted him.

He tried to catch himself, but his body was numb. Every misshapen part worked at a different rhythm. His body was stolen and borrowed and bargained, then lashed together by his will alone. That lashing was coming undone.

He managed to get one leg underneath himself, sent out tendrils to steady it. Just as quickly, however, something knocked it away, and Maxim fell.

He hit the ground hard. A wave of sharp, immediate pain went through him, forcing a gasp.

A grey wraith descended on him.

Cursed Steelfeather.

Maxim raised one of his unwieldy arms to protect his hearts.

Steelfeather pummeled him with fists that weighed like anvils, crushing muscles and bones and any hope he would have had of resisting.

His body was growing slack as the pain faded more and more. His mind became foggy. Even Nasaizh had nothing to say.

Lessie.

Mara.

I hoped the last thing I’d see would be you two.

Blows rained over him, but he didn’t feel them. They didn’t matter anymore.

Papa’s sorry.

So, so sorry.

I would have done anything for you.

A jolt of something foreign in his mind brought him back to consciousness.

Anything? a new voice asked.

Maxim didn’t know who it was. Another beast? It didn’t matter.

Yes, Maxim responded.

Good. Then treat with me. Gain the power you require. The power to defeat your enemies and stand supreme.

I will do it. Whatever you want, I’ll do it.

True and good. Then simply say my name. Khruj. Say ‘Khruj, I call upon you’.

Steelfeather heaped Maxim’s limp arm aside and punched through his chest to pull out his heart.

“Khruj…” Maxim whispered, struggling to make words. His mouth was dry and tasted of congealed blood. “I… call upon you.”

A bolt of lightning struck from a black sky.

It hit Maxim square, brought his senses back to full acuity, knocked Steelfeather clean off of him.

A long staff slithered into his right hand and stiffened there. It was a perfect fit.

Khruj.

Maxim had heard of this creature.

Power filled his body, a resounding strength the likes of which he had never experienced.

Slowly, he stood back up, using the staff for support.

Titaness was dragging her compatriot back through the shattered gates of the Heroes’ coward’s den.

Maxim raised his hand. Black energy shot from his fingers, mixed into a beam that tore through the woman’s flesh. She screamed and fell down, leaving Steelfeather laying limp.

Maxim saw the frightened, stunned looks of the so-called Heroes on the wall.

He smiled.

If they were truly Heroes, they would have saved them.

His spawnlings rushed forward around him, going for the open gates.

Maxim raised his hand towards the wall.

They deserve this.

Time for their punishment.