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Chapter 32 Rising arc
🕑 Added 2025-08-06 09:49:15 +0000 UTCPdf and epub versions below. What the fuck did just happen? Marcus kept trying to slowly regain his breath as Elly took command over the nea
Pdf and epub versions below.
What the fuck did just happen?
Marcus kept trying to slowly regain his breath as Elly took command over the nearby troops, ordering a full search of the surrounding hills and a lockdown of the camp. He could hear hundreds of feet march off to obey, more Life Enhanced soldiers arriving. He heard Elly order them to join the Royal Guards, some of whom he saw glancing at their fellows warily.
Great, now everyone is going to be paranoid. That’s not going to help discipline at all.
Then Barry arrived with his Demon Knight, and Marcus forced his limbs to obey as he climbed back to his feet. Vess put a hand on his uninjured shoulder, eyes flickering to the bolt still sticking out of the other one, and Elly glanced at him before a pair of her men dragged a corpse closer.
The human assassin, right. The one with a crossbow bolt capable of dispelling shields. High quality work, too, and he hadn’t seen much of that since leaving the School of Life.
“Ɨ ʍ𝘪tnǫss ʎou, ẞpāçḗ 𝓜āğe.”
Marcus turned to the Demon Knight as it spoke, its dialect not one he was familiar with. Summoning wasn’t an area he generally considered himself an expert in, which meant he looked at Barry instead. The summoning prodigy looked at the demon, his frown growing as it bowed its head.
Shallowly, but bowed.
“I see you, spatial mage,” Barry translated, confusion in his tone. “I’m not sure what that means. Clarify? Cǟrāfǐ ǵhȯsǣnɃ?”
The demon said nothing, turning away to gaze upwards at the sun. Barry shrugged helplessly, Marcus starting to frown himself. Demon Knights were not the strongest beings in the Hells, no, but they were far from weak. Very far from weak. For one to bow its head, no matter how lightly, wa-
Elly filled his field of view, one hand on her sword. “What the fuck, Marcus? Just. What the fuck? I’m used to assassins, to knives in the dark, but my captain said you were choking to death? That a demon replaced one of your Royal Guards, and one of our own soldiers shot a bolt that bypassed your shields?”
“Y-” Another coughing fit overtook him, Barry walking closer and holding a glowing hand up for inspection. Marcus nodded, not quite feeling up to wielding healing magic himself yet, and the kid gently pressed it to Marcus’ neck. The coughing subsided, making him take a few deep breaths before attempting to speak again. “Yeah. A distraction, the main act and a backup. Only Barry can summon a greater elemental among my mages, and I’ve not taught anyone how to etch dispelling runes onto objects, let alone ones of such high quality to overcome my shie-”
Marcus coughed again, holding up a hand. He jerked his head at Barry, the kid nodding and stepping back, and weaved a healing matrix himself. Magic poured through liberally, most of it going to waste. Marcus didn’t care, hissing as he pulled out the bolt still in his shoulder.
The wound knit closed as he pressed his hand against it, letting go after some long seconds, catching Elly watching him with slightly widened eyes. He ignored that, putting the healing matrix at his throat.
“To overcome my shield,” he finished, holding up the bolt. “The Empire. It seems they wanted to shortcut their invasion by killing me. They got closer than I’d like to admit.”
Elly hummed, looking away. “Sorry. I should have had two Life Enhanced soldiers stationed alongside your Royal Guards, and stamped down on the smuggling within the camp. This is on me.”
“And I should have kept scanning for demonic traces,” he countered, rolling his eyes. “Maybe put a few war-mages among my retinue. Let’s not play the blame game, please.”
She folded her arms. “I’m serious. I’m supposed to be the experienced one when it comes to war. Protection of high value targets, which includes skilled mages and royalty both, is basic strategy. Kill the King and the army cracks, kill the mages and the wounded accumulate.”
“And I’m the one familiar with the Empire, the possibilities of high-level magic and didn’t think of the possibility that my Royal Guards could be infiltrated despite a deep familiarity with shapeshifters. Can we move on now, please and thank you? I’d rather focus on how to prevent it in the future than cast blame.”
Elly huffed, shuffling slightly as she turned to her Life Enhanced soldiers again. Vess leaned closer to his ear as Elly moved, voice so soft he could barely hear it. “She doesn’t like being seen as useless, even if that possibility exists solely in her own mind. Give her something concrete to fix, some plan to enact.”
Marcus opened his mouth, whether to argue or agree he wasn’t sure, and clicked it shut without ever saying anything. He walked up to his Warrior-Queen, coming to stand next to her as the hillside camp slowly kicked into full gear.
“Increasing my retinue is a good start,” he began, tone taking a considering tilt. It was only slightly faked, but despite his own disdain for the skill he was trained as a politician. “War mages and Life Enhanced soldiers to counter magical and mundane threats. But the bolt was smuggled into camp, not created here. They would never risk sending a mage this skilled to enchant that sort of weaponry on site. They also had to know where I was, what I looked like, maybe even where I slept. It’s strange they didn’t try this while I was sleeping, actually. I would have.”
She half turned to him. “Your point?”
“Find the infiltrators, purge them all. Vess is not all knowing, I know, but now she knows there is something to be found. Ponn, one of my mages, is a natural shapeshifter herself. Take them both and cleanse the army of spies. Of watchful eyes and patient daggers. This is our army, not the Empire’s. Remind them of that.”
Elly’s face hardened. “Now that’s a very good idea, husband of mine. A very good idea indeed. One last thing before I go. The greater elemental, the one that nearly choked you to death. I heard your mages talk about natural resistance, but I don’t know what that means.”
“It’s what stops air elementals from simply asphyxiating everyone to death. It's also what stops water elementals from absorbing the water in someone's blood, or fire elementals from boiling it. Every living thing has natural resistance, which is likely linked to Life Enhancement. Not an area I’ve studied extensively. Regardless, to overcome it requires power. Brute force, usually, though older beings learn to better fight through it. A mage, though, has more of it. Magic infuses our resistance, at least to a point. It’s how I knew it was a greater elemental. If it was any younger than a millennium it would have gotten nowhere.”
“That old?”
“Elementals don’t really age like we do. Anything under three hundred years old is barely sentient, let alone sapient. Yet for all that power air elementals are good at hiding, and I didn’t think it was a threat I needed to look out for. That won’t happen again.”
She glanced at him. “Make sure that it doesn’t. If you die, my position here becomes rather uncertain.”
“Is that a hint of fondness I detect behind the sarcasm?” He grinned, making her huff and turn away. “I’m fond of you too, wife of mine. Now go hunt for some spies.”
“I will, but not because you told me to.”
He rolled his eyes as she strode off without another word, Vess following her after shooting him a smug smile. Marcus shook his head at her pride, no doubt pleased she had successfully played matchmaker.
Sort of. His father had arranged the marriage, but Vess had undoubtedly smoothed over their first few weeks together. Whispered warnings against social pitfalls, figured out which of their interests overlapped and offered advice to make it all work.
Barry quietly joined him, the kid followed closely by his Demon Knight. Marcus didn’t know the full story there, not really, but the demon seemed to like its summoner. Whatever the reason, it had saved Marcus’ life.
“Thank you,” Marcus said, nodding to the demon and Barry both. “I was five seconds away from unconsciousness, fifteen from brain damage and thirty from death. Elly would have killed the elemental, no doubt, but it was you that saved my life.”
Barry shuffled, looking at his swiftly disappearing Queen. “When you have something good, others try to take it. Either you fight back or live without it, and I’m tired of giving up that which I treasure. And you were right, that first time we spoke. The more power I hold the more I can help others. Help those who have helped me.”
One of my Royal Guards is dead.
A strange thought utterly removed from the conversation, but it seemed all that adrenaline keeping him sharp was fading. Pain started to flow, some delirium seemingly coming alongside it, and his head throbbed from taking direct control over space.
Another party arrived, armed and armored for war, and Marcus spotted Duke Helios at their forefront. Knights, one and all, and looking every inch ready for war. Helios dismounted his massive war horse, and Marcus could almost imagine the ground shaking from the sheer weight of the man.
Has Helios always been that massive?
Marcus himself was tall, always had been, but he was thin. Only now were his muscles giving some weight to his frame, but Helios was a different beast altogether. Broad shouldered, massive arms and with legs like tree stumps. The man marched over, the dozen knights following close behind.
Knights. Marcus hadn’t seen many of those, not for a long while. Not since his father had declared a hunt when Marcus had been six, the last time the old King had taken to battle. Some charismatic bandit had declared himself King, managing to collect nearly a thousand of his kind.
He didn’t remember much of it, really. According to the stories his father had led a cavalry charge through their ranks and cut them down to the last, the so-called King being hanged from a tree not two weeks after his grand proclamation.
But Marcus did remember the Knights. Nearly fifty of them, back then. Coming from all over Loyalist lands, bringing squires and full plate to wage glorious battle. Fat due to peace, he recalled his father saying. Fat but no less dangerous for it.
Helios came closer still, Marcus shaking his head to clear away old memories. The knights idled hesitantly when Royal Guards blocked their path, glancing at Barry as the kid moved towards them.
Though with the Demon Knight following him, Barry didn’t much look like a kid at all.
“You were attacked,” the Duke began, one hand resting on the sword at his hip. Four Royal Guards were still close by, watching the Duke carefully, and the man raised an eyebrow. “Your Guards are twitchy. What happened?”
“I’ll go over everything in full detail later, once we can fill in both the commanders and assorted important nobles. In short, a shapeshifter took the place of one of the Royal Guards, a mundane assassin with a very expensive crossbow bolt nearly killed me and an air elemental nearly killed me again. I survived. Elly and I think it was the Empire.”
The Duke paused for a moment, seeming to take that in, before nodding once. “Your first assassination attempt. No deaths?”
“Not aside from the Royal Guard the shapeshifter assimilated and thus killed.”
“Be proud,” Helios said, tone forcefully light. “No King is loved by all, and the fact the Empire tried to kill you so early means they consider you a threat. You and the Queen have already discussed counter measures?”
“A few minutes ago.”
“Then I won’t insult you by stating the obvious. I offer my Knights as additional protection, at least for the duration of this war. The Royal Guard is skilled, no doubt about it, but Knights bring a different skill set to the table. The more varied those protecting you, the more the enemy has to account for.”
Marcus inclined his head. “They are welcome and appreciated. Captain Yonas will be overseeing the transition, something I have yet to inform him of. Speaking of oversight, how is your new command treating you?”
“Trying to wrangle a thousand household guards, dozens of bickering nobles and three political factions into a cohesive fighting force?” The man shrugged his massive shoulders. “Hargraf is making things easier, surprisingly. Appointing him as my second in command was smart. Soema is content to let us lead in war, but overall the Queen had the right idea. A centralized, non-political army is far superior.”
“I heard Elly charged your soldiers with securing our flank because you tend to lag behind.”
Halios looked almost embarrassed as he replied. “That issue has been handled, your Grace. Me and my men will do what we can.”
“Good to hear,” Marcus said, offering the man a smile. “I meant to tell you before, but there are some enchanted items waiting for you. Nothing major, but a necklace of arrow deflection and a pair of boots with increased traction. Apologies, that’s all we can afford at this moment in time.”
The Duke shook his head. “I am honored to wear them, your Grace.”
“As long as you wear them, Helios. I’m aware I’ve been neglecting the Loyalists. That you kept four dozen minor lords and half a dozen Barons placated while I found my footing as King. I won’t let it go unrewarded.”
Helios smiled, not seeming upset in the slightest. “There is nothing to repay, your Grace.”
That seemed to kill the conversation, the Duke moving off with his Knights in tow, and before long Marcus was speaking with Yonas. Collaborating with the man to reorganize the Royal Guard, which Helios’ nephew took to more readily than expected.
Apparently Marcus nearly dying while surrounded by guards was an insult to the captain's professional pride. Then Marcus had to show his face, prove he was still alive, and even gave a speech about perseverance and Imperial arrogance.
Not his best, but the soldiers seemed to like it.
It finally brought him here, the sun just starting to set. No less than twenty souls had followed him, war mages and Knights and Royal Guards, but no one said a thing.
The hours had let him calm down properly, adrenaline leaving and exhaustion setting in, but at least he’d managed to squeeze in a visit with Margaret. The healer hadn’t been able to do anything about the scar on his shoulder, flesh knitting together too rapidly in the heat of the moment, but the pain was gone now, and so was the stiffness.
So there he stood, twenty souls holding silent vigil as he looked at the pile of bones. The last-minute grave pit he’d ordered dug, the bones of a thousand animals collected in a pile. Skulls and femurs and ribs, collected by the cooks over the last day.
Well, today and the past week. This had been planned for a while, but honestly, Marcus needed to get it done. It would cause a stir, the Caldirians wouldn't be happy, but he wasn’t going to ignore an entire discipline of magic because one madman had killed their continent.
Which, of course, was when Elly showed up. And not only her, she had four commanders and someone who looked like a noble in tow. They were talking in their mother tongue, one he didn’t speak and honestly never really had time to learn, and stopped some good distance from the bones.
Elly, for one reason or another, didn’t join him. Barely even looked at him, honestly. She just stared at the pile of bones, expression as blank as he’d ever seen it.
Well, he already said he wasn’t going to exclude necromancy. Too late to go back on his word now, even if he wanted to. Which he didn’t. The sooner she got over her hatred of the undead the sooner she could start to see their benefits.
It was, in his mind, rather like being angry at a sword just because one was used to kill your loved ones. Undead were tools, not some inherently evil force hellbent on trying to destroy the world.
Well, so long as he didn’t pull any souls from what he nebulously called the ‘afterlife’, anyway, but that was for research. This was just animating bones, filling the grooves of what once contained life with magic. It was more complicated than that, of course, but Marcus had long since mastered the basics.
So he spun up four matrices, keeping the last employed as a shield, and felt his magic drain away. It was disconcerting being so low on it, even more so than it had been a day ago, but the bones stirred to life one by one.
The matrix was rather interesting, actually. He hummed as he worked, burning the same rote pattern in a few hundred templates. The bones pulled together to form basic humanoid shapes, automatically sorting themselves by old connections, and as a whole it was an interesting art.
Guided by intent more than precise control, magic ran through old grooves, establishing new patterns. The undead it created were as varied as humans themselves, though since there were no human skulls, most bore the heads of animals.
The small horde grew over the next few minutes, starting to passively collect magic once each individual undead took shape. Big and small, thick and thin, all of them guided by a rudimentary intelligence. His intelligence, technically, since he could hardly rely on the instinct and intelligence of animals.
He breathed out slowly as the drain tapered off to nothing, waving his hand as war mages stepped forwards. His war mages, specifically, not Elly’s. Those seemed to almost take a step back from sheer horror, as if Marcus had recreated the doom of their homeland in fifteen minutes.
Fear, he had to remind himself, could be just as irrational as any other emotion.
Understandable, but this small horde of his wasn’t that dangerous. Useful, yes, untiring as well as emotionless, but magic could burn through them quickly enough and their numbers did not replenish on its own. Ambushers, essentially, and expendable assets used to augment other fighting forces.
Elly would know better, if she ever overcame her hatred of the things. Which, as Marcus quietly recovered from spending so much magic so quickly, she seemed ready to try. She even walked up to him, looking over the idling creatures with a critical eye.
He turned to her, she shrugged, and he found it easy enough to interpret meaning from that. She wasn't happy, but neither was she going to throw away a tool they could use.
Marcus nodded to himself, felt his war mages take over the undead’s reins, and let the exhaustion hit him fully. He fought to suppress a yawn, turning back towards the camp proper.
They were getting close to the Imperial’s legions now, close enough that imminent fighting was starting to become a distinct possibility. Best if he was well rested for that.
…though Marcus supposed he could fit in half an hour to secure his tent against further assassination attempts.
Just in case.
