Chapter 336: Return of the King
“But it could be all we have,” Anneliese reminded him. “Orion’s presence is the only reason this thing has not spilled out onto the streets, if I understand you right.”
Argrave nodded at her, eyes lingering on the walls. “Then we don’t have any time to lose. Sumner, that breach in the walls you mentioned orchestrating—you’re sure you can get your army in position at the right time?”
“Definitely,” Sumner nodded. “If your people have to scale all the way up that mountain, we’ll be there long before it happens. I have questions about… whatever in the world that creature was,” the veteran mage shuddered, for he, too, had scouted out the Dragon Palace with druidic magic alongside Anneliese. “But if Your Majesty is confident enough to lead at the front into battle to vanquish it, I will follow.”
Argrave patted his shoulder as he walked past him. “Good,” he left the duke that praise. The others fell in line beside him, moving to begin their advance. “Elenore, don’t take any risks. You’ll be well-protected, but things can still happen. We experienced what happens there once before, trapped… and now someone’s behind this. Maybe someone familiar to you.”
“I know,” his sister answered back. “But you won’t be well-protected. Perhaps you ought to worry about yourself.”
“I know,” Argrave repeated the same thing she’d said. “I’m used to this sort of thing, in case you forgot.”
“Go, then,” she nodded patiently, gray eyes ill at ease.
Elenore remained behind, Argrave’s royal guards and two loyal A-rank mages staying by her side to protect her as they advanced.
“Is there something else troubling you?” Anneliese asked as they walked onwards.
Argrave clicked his tongue once, then said, “Hegazar and Vera are going to think I knew this would happen.”
“Did you?” Vasilisa asked pointedly.
“Wouldn’t have sent them away if I had,” Argrave shook his head. “I’ll be relying on you, Vasilisa. On all of you.” He adjusted the silver bracer on his arm, then pulled up his enchanted gray leather sleeve over it. “Fortunately, I’ve surrounded myself with reliable people. Some small relief in this hell.”
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Georgina looked up at the Dragon Palace as she and Rovostar climbed up the side of the mountain. As she watched, a detached tower shook mightily. With another rumble, one brick fell free, shimmering with broken enchantments. Then, they all started to fall one after another, cascading down the mountain and dislodging yet more rock until they fell down into the city of Dirracha. Even from far away, she could see something foul and black leaking out. She saw what she thought were royal knights, and briefly thought she spotted the king’s figure. No, she reasoned. That must be Orion.
“What is Traugott doing?!” Georgina called up to the duke.
“What do I know?” the crass man responded back. “But look at us. We’re climbing without being peppered by insane princes or arrows. Take advantage of this. Talk less, and climb more,” he ordered her.
Growing silent, the two of them led near a dozen soldiers up the mountain, using mountain-climbing gear to speed their ascent. Though they might’ve taken the Royal Road, the sole normal entrance to the palace, the two of them needed to reach the place where King Felipe was kept hostage. This mountain path was both covert and direct.
Their whole ascent was marked by tremendous rumblings from the devastating battle in the palace. Georgina felt something was very wrong, but she did not voice her thoughts in wake of her commander’s words. Eventually, a stone overhang blocked them from proceeding further. Georgina used a rope with a hook at the end, aiming for a railing she knew was on the other side. Once it hooked, their party climbed up one at a time.
“The queen’s old garden,” Rovostar said, the last to climb up the rope. They all stood on a balcony overlooking the city, beyond which there was a brown and dying garden that had thrived, once. “Looks like Orion hasn’t been maintaining it. Alright,” the duke looked back. “The king and Levin are held in one of the detached towers, near the queen’s tower. That isn’t far from here.”
Georgina looked to the tower in question—it was just barely visible. There, the wicked warping darkness that ate light thrived. She could not help but grow nervous.
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Orion stood before the titanic shadowy creature, his breath heavy. He bled from half a dozen slowly-healing wounds, and his armor had been torn in so many places. Opposite him, the humanoid from the realm of darkness bore not a single scratch. Its gray lean body was whole and solid after having absorbed much light, and its tentacle mouth swung through the air like a pendulum.
It held one hand out as it walked forward with heavy steps. The clarity of its body warped as a flexible weapon of shadow took form in its hand. It sent it forth like a whip, and Orion darted to the side. Once its weapon settled it flicked its wrist at the prince in a fluent motion. The flexible strand of darkness jumped again and Orion barely ducked low enough to dodge. The whip-like weapon tore through the walls and the ceiling as though the bricks were only wheat before a scythe, sending stone crumbling on the both of them.
It advanced further still in an unceasing assault. The weapon became rigid or malleable at its will. It thrust, cut, and slammed it as a staff, or sent it whipping inhumanly fast as it tore apart this ancient palace with ease. The creature was intelligent, brutally powerful, and impossibly fast despite its size; Orion found no openings. Instead, he was forced on a desperate defense that called upon all of his blessings. He tried to shock the earth, create shields of ice, set the air aflame, fill the ground with acid… none of it sufficed to do anything beyond protecting his life.
It tore up the castle without a care. It was as though the being found itself surrounded by unlimited power, and now reveled in its ability. And perhaps it did. Orion saw that whenever it conjured its weapon again, its body lost clarity and needed to absorb more light to become solid again. But now, with light in such abundance…
Orion did not have time to lose himself in fanciful thoughts. The abomination struck out with its foot, hitting the prince squarely in the chest. He staggered back, winded. Before he could get his bearing, the thing raised its weapon up, stabbed it into the ground, and used it as a lever to open a great gash in the floor. It fell away, revealing bare mountainside. Orion, without purchase, floundered impotently as this palace wing fell out from under his feet.
The prince’s stomach lurched as he fell further, but in an act of desperation he jutted out his foot and managed to find a foothold in the cliff face. He didn’t manage to stabilize himself but flipped upside down dangerously. He slid down, barely clinging onto the last bit of stone before a titanic drop. With all the strength he had left, he crawled his way back up.
The great beast stood there, staring out across Dirracha. It turned its head about, looking at the wide plains and the city before it. Its corklike face began to unwind, revealing a soulless purple eye. Orion climbed up onto the ledge, staring up at it as he spit out blood to the wind. With a bestial lunge, he leapt forward and grabbed its hanging tentacle mouth. He pulled it down and slammed his fist into its eye. It reeled back, clutching its eye with both hands.
“I will die before I allow you to walk beyond this place,” Orion declared, ignorant of if it could even understand him.
The creature was soundless as ever. Its face rippled, hiding its now-bloodshot purple eye. Orion put his back to the cityscape as the wind howled behind them. And in the city streets, out of the prince’s sight… black banners bearing a sunburst with snakes as its rays moved up the streets as the citizens watched with unease.
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“I see it,” Galamon declared, just beside Argrave as he led the soldiers up the Royal Road. Duke Sumner’s men would be joining him, he was sure. “And Orion. He… struggles.”
Argrave didn’t look up. “You’ll remedy that. Sumner and his troops have their job, Elenore has hers, and we have ours.” He briefly spared a glance, watching as parts of the palace crumbled away even still. People in the city panicked, watching their troops with bad memories of the past. “So long as it’s day… so long as this Shadowlander has flesh and blood to eat… it’ll be near impossible to kill. Remember that. Try nothing stupid. Stick to the plan.”
Galamon clenched his Ebonice axe grimly, looking ill at ease.
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Elenore stepped down the stone stairs beneath Dirracha in a place familiar yet wholly unfamiliar to her simultaneously. Though she still wore the bronze jewelry… now she could see. One sight in particular awaited her, and she moved towards it eagerly even despite the situation.
“Watch your step, princess,” one of the royal guards said as he hastened down the stairs.
The princess barely heeded the man, keeping her hand to the wall as she moved quickly down. Blue light entered into her vision, and in time the stairway’s ceiling became low enough to see beyond. All was as she remembered, yet more—she saw every magic lamp in the gargantuan room.
And she saw Vasquer. The golden serpent, the largest living thing she’d ever seen. With her limited perception, she had seen bits and pieces. Now, she saw the whole of her—her ancestor, stretching for miles and miles. And unlike before… she was unbound, uncaptured, unfettered. Elenore managed a smile.
“I made it back,” she whispered.