Focusing on the hellion wolves, which had turned their attention to him, Lorian released his hellfire. Three of the wolves turned into a blazing mass of flesh and began howling as the hellfire ate away everything it touched.
The thieves now outnumbered the hellion wolves and fell upon them, stabbing them to death.
A loud roar sounded behind him. He turned to see a large bear-like creature standing in the middle of the room.
Standing a short distance away was the bloodied Summoner—half his face burned off, bleeding from a dozen places, raising one hand.
"Ursvang!" shouted one of the thieves.
They immediately began scrambling for cover.
Don't let it see you. That was the only rule when it came to fighting an Ursvang. It was a bumbling, slow creature unless it fixed its eyes on you for more than five seconds.
Lorian felt he should get some cover as well, but first the damned Summoner needed to die. He had somehow survived the fireball. Having summoned the Ursvang, he seemed to be crawling away.
Taking a risk, Lorian flew towards the Ursvang, circling around it. He aimed for the wounded Summoner. The man looked on in horror as Lorian closed in on him. Lorian landed right above him, placing one foot on his legs, and raised his spell blade. He barely let it dig into the man's skin before he felt a large shadow behind him.
"Look out," screamed Orcus.
No. This was bad judgment on his part.
He had heard the Ursvang's speed described several times.
His wings wouldn't be nearly as fast as its claws from what he had heard. Without thinking, Lorian reacted the only possible way he could think of.
If it was good for the Racenarr in Amadeus's arena, it was probably good for an Ursvang. For a moment, he felt as if he had been cut into two pieces by the creature's swipe, but his vision blurred and his head exploded in pain as he found himself teleported behind it.
He had no spells ready, not even his manipulation spells. The only thing handy was his blade, and he couldn't see clearly, but he thrust anyway at what looked like the Ursvang's head.
It took a few moments for his vision to clear, but the nausea was still present. The blade was embedded in the back of the Ursvang's neck. The creature began flailing its massive arms about violently, trying to shake him off, roaring all the time. It only seemed to add to his nausea from the teleportation.
His wings had disappeared. Letting the Ursvang go now was a bad idea, but it seemed like the only option. Lorian twisted the spell blade, causing the creature to roar in pain as he dropped to the ground. Slow though the creature might be, the pain seemed to make it move faster.
Still disoriented physically, Lorian dropped to the ground on his back. He quickly began evaluating spells in his head as fast as he possibly could. Manipulation magic—too weak unless he aimed for the head, which he doubted he could in his current state. Hellfire—too slow. Elemental fire—too risky; even if it burned, the creature could still strike him down. Lightning—useless unless he was able to aim it well.
Impact air! His only option.
Lorian began gathering elemental air and compressing it into a bubble between him and Ursvang, which had now turned around and raised its arms. Lorian felt himself pressed into the floor as the air was gathered and compressed.
This would hurt like hell, he thought.
No more time, the creature would strike any second now. Its arm barely gave an indication of moving before Lorian released the impact air bubble.
The effect was unlike anything he had ever felt.
Every other time he had cast the spell, he had been standing...or flying. He would feel the recoil and fly back—sometimes into a wall. But this time, he felt the full impact of the spell crush him into the ground. Combined with the disorientation he already had, it nearly knocked him unconscious.
But the effect on the Ursvang was incredible. Five times the size of a human, the creature was launched into the air, its head crashing into the ceiling and getting squished before it dropped with the loudest thud onto the floor, causing a tremor.
He felt himself pulled by the shoulders. He could barely see, but it was the thieves. The Ravens on his side.
"That was incredible!"
"Did you see its head?"
"Shit. The body's still moving. Kill it!"
"You all right?" asked the thief who had pulled Lorian to his feet.
"I'm fine," said Lorian, standing up. He hurt all over his body.
Orcus! Lorian began feeling his body for the hamster when he suddenly heard its voice.
"I'm fine," Orcus said. "You should keep moving."
"How—"
"I have my own spells. Don't worry."
"Here. I can heal a little," said a weak voice.
The elemental mage. The one who didn't die.
Lorian felt the warmth of the healing spell wash over him. The pain would return later, but the spell would ease it for now. Perhaps it was good to have a mage who wasn't a specialist.
Two more enemy thieves rushed in to try and take the group by surprise, but were dealt with quickly. There were seven Ravens still alive and protecting them.
"You're something else. I've never seen anyone casting an impact air like that. Or any air spell for that matter."
Because I cast the exact variant of that spell at least ten thousand times, thought Lorian. He wondered what the mage would say if he saw his most powerful elemental fireball.
"Why are you here?" asked Lorian.
It wasn't like the man was stupid. Unlike the necromancer, he at least knew his spells. But he had to have known he couldn't fight a Summoner. He had to have known that his chances of coming out of this alive were close to none. The mage tried to smile when he replied.
"The gold, I guess. Besides, if the Renal's men come out on top, I could become a retainer."
Lorian didn't think being a retainer mage in the Ravens meant that much. He found it hard to believe that a number of mages viewed magic as their trade. A way of making a living.
"What's your name?" asked Lorian.
"Adrian," said the mage.
Lorian thanked him when he felt his back and chest were sufficiently healed. His head still hurt, but the healing spell had done wonders for the disorientation and nausea. The rest of the damage to his body didn't concern him.
What concerned him, however, was the use of the teleportation spell. They sapped great amounts of magical power. Not something he should have used if he wanted to conserve his energy.
He could have cast at least ten fireballs with the energy he had spent.
And for what? The Ursvang! A stupid oversized bear.
All he had to do was avoid it and keep moving. What it didn't see, it didn't care about. The impact air hadn't been cheap, either. But it had been twice as effective as one cast while standing. The low ceiling and the closed quarters had made it work for him.
Still, there was no point worrying about it now. The thieves had finished stabbing whatever remained of the headless Ursvang to death.
"Where are the other mages?" asked Lorian, not hiding some frustration.
The thief nearest to him answered.
"They've been held up. Ambushed by two of the Summoners back in the basement."
"What? How?"
"The Summoners entered the basement moments after we made our way here. Looks like we got lucky."
"We were right here! How did they get past us?"
"There are many ways into the basement. The guild-hall is full of passages."
That was probably true. The guild-hall was a massive building. He had underestimated how large it could be.
Lorian thought for a while. Two of the Summoners were fighting them. If there were five, that just left two more, including Dahl. Should he go back to help Renal's forces? On the other hand, he didn't want to waste any more energy. It seemed Adrian and even the thieves were looking to him for orders.
Fortunately, he didn't have to think too long. The
decision was made for him as high-pitched laughter echoed through the hall. A woman's voice.
"You're just a little boy!"
The air around him suddenly felt chilly. None of them had noticed the woman enter. Two of the thieves rushed at her with their blades poised to attack.
They fell to their knees as soon as they got close to her, their bodies shaking violently with red lightning enveloping them. Electrocuted, from the looks of it. Lorian saw runes glowing in the air around her. She had several protective spells active.
From behind her, through the corridor, entered three of the largest hellion wolves Lorian had seen this day. The same red lightning kept pulsing around their bodies.
Frenzied. She was feeding them more demonic essence.
Lorian looked to his side and counted five thieves standing. The wolves would rip them apart.
The woman walked to the corpse of the Ursvang and inspected it.
"Stupid creatures. I never liked them. You can't control them the way you can these puppies."
One of the wolves knelt and brushed its face against hers as she gave it a light kiss. She turned and faced Lorian.
"That was you, wasn't it? A while ago... That surge in magical power that I felt? I'm sure it wasn't that pathetic man standing next to you."
"She's insane," whispered Orcus.
"Not now!" whispered Lorian from the corner of his mouth.
"No, I mean it! She's actually deranged. I don't mean it as an insult. I'm stating a fact. Oracles can recognize it. Auros was the same. Weak-willed creatures that have seen and felt far more than their body and mind can withstand. You should attack her now, before she—"
A burning star shot out from the woman's hand without warning and raced toward Lorian. He barely had time to bring up a shield against it, causing it to explode inches from his face. He had to take a few steps back, recoiling. He hadn't expected the star to move so fast.
"Look at me when I'm talking to you!" she screamed.
Orcus was right. This woman was mad. She thought she was fast? Lorian raised his hand and cast his manipulation spell. The spell was less effective due to the air getting chilly, but the stream of fire trailing from Lorian's hand was almost instantaneous. The stream had reached the woman, even striking her, but one of the frenzied wolves got in between them, shielding her from the bulk of the damage. The creature itself was barely fazed by the spell except for some singed fur on its side. It reared its fangs against Lorian.
"Now that's loyalty!" said the woman, from behind the wolf. "And honestly? Is that flimsy stream of fire the best you can do? I expected so much more from that display you put on earlier."
An amateur tactic. Trying to get him to lose his temper.
But this was interesting.
Lorian would guess she was second in command to Dahl. The previous Summoner was a weakling, and he hoped this woman would give him some more insight into Summoners.
"Adrian," he said, addressing the mage. "Take the thieves and head back to the basement."
"Are you—?"
"You'll be more useful there. They won't expect an attack from this direction. The five of you guard him."
Adrian nodded. The six of them quickly went back the way they came. Judging from the absence of both the parties—Renal's men and the Summoners—Lorian could guess they were evenly matched. The mage wasn't exceptional, but he might be just enough to provide a distraction and tilt the scales in their favor.
"Hmm, confident, are we? I like that in a man... If only you were a little...older."
Lorian smirked as he prepared himself. The Ursvang had caught him by surprise. Although it was a victory, it was a lucky one. And Lorian never took pleasure in lucky victories.
He would take great pleasure in defeating this woman. There was so much he wanted to show her.
*
Whatever the demon hunter had said, fighting the hellion wolves, even with knowledge of their abilities and weaknesses, was still hard.
He felt as if he were back in Ceívar's brothel when the attack had happened.
Add to that, one of the Summoners attacking them now was the same one who had attacked the brothel. Gale's partner was as good as dead. He was moving in for a strike or two, but he had a deep gash on his stomach that he was holding closed with one hand.
The problem was that they were too...tenacious. Fighting them allowed absolutely no room for error. You had to block and attack with deadly precision unless you wanted to end up gutted.
Illazehra was right behind him engaging in a battle of spells with the Summoner. She wasn't winning, but she wasn't losing either. Gale could tell she was just as pressed as he was.
Ceívar and Crassus each had a wolf to themselves.
Renal, on the other hand—Gale could swear he was fighting two of them. He was already an exemplary swordsman when they were recruits. While Gale had gotten softer under Garvin's service, Renal had cut his way to the top of the main guild-hall.
Gale could see why the man was feared.
He was like a candle flame. He even moved like one, flickering just as a flame would when struck with a blade, burning everything that touched it.
Perhaps it had to do with the Twilight Circle's training. After all, the few books he had seen said they were extremely potent in combat, rivaling the paladins of Myria and the Rhial Knights of Simea.
He had already slain one of the wolves. Ceívar should have been able to as well, but it looked like he still hadn't completely healed. The remaining lieutenants had paired together in twos against the wolves. Most of the other thieves who had come in with them had already fallen to the Summoners.
Where the hell was Lorian? He and the two mages were supposed to have cleared the basement a while ago—were they already dead?
The Summoners clearly had the upper hand. If only there was a way he could get behind them. They were absorbed in battle and were focusing completely in front of them. However, the task seemed next to impossible, as three wolves stood in the path between them. If Gale could just get this one, then it would start a cascade. He would be free to help the others.
Gale pulled his head back, avoiding the swipe of the wolf's claw. He took another step back, almost bumping into Illazehra. He had to be careful. Disturbing her while she was casting could be fatal for all of them.
Why were these wolves so strong? They were already frenzied, but from what Crassus had explained, they shouldn't be. Gale was sure he had scored at least five fatal hits, but the hellion gave no indication of slowing down in the least. He heard a gurgling sound and saw from the corner of his eye that his companion was dead. He had just vomited out whatever little life he had left before falling to the ground.
Gale felt twice as pressed now. The wolf had turned its full attention to him. He had to lead it away from Illazehra. If anything happened to her, one of the Summoners would be free to run wild. Gale tried leading it away, but the creature wouldn't move. It had its sights set on Illazehra.
Sudden screams. They had gotten one of the Summoners! Gale saw the man falling down, peppered with crossbow bolts.
Reinforcements! They had come down from the first level. Gale saw one of the mages who had went ahead with Lorian. With him were five other thieves—the assassins who had gone in at the very beginning.
It was perfect. They caught the Summoner completely by surprise.
Gale's wolf reared its head in pain as bolts struck it on its back. Gale took the chance to drive his sword into its neck, twisting it until he felt the creature go limp. Its head suddenly exploded in flame. Illazehra.
"Get the other Summoner!" shouted Gale to Illazehra.
This was as good a chance as any they would get. Gale rushed to help Ceívar with his opponent. He didn't know if it was the death of the Summoner or the resulting increase in morale, but the remaining wolves fell in rapid succession.
"Fools! Die! All of you die!" shouted the last Summoner, frantically launching spells in all directions.
; The thieves rushed for cover as several red stars flew at them.
Gale thought he would summon an Ursvang. He had done so earlier, but the man vanished in an instant. He had used the cover of his barrage of spells to teleport.
Gale looked around to see if he was here. The rest of the people in the room too began looking around frantically.
"He's spent," said Crassus. "Used the last bit of his energy to teleport away."
"Well done, boys!" shouted Marcus, raising his blade.
Marcus couldn't have picked a worse time. Relieved though they were, none of them felt like cheering. This battle had dragged on too long. They had lost the bulk of their forces here. Gale looked around and could count about ten thieves in total.
But the real loss was Kugan. Gale turned around and saw Ceívar easing the old man down. He had taken some damage in his battle with the Summoner.
"Easy, old man," said Ceívar as he rested his head on the floor.
"Can he be healed?" asked Renal, kneeling to look at the man's wound.
"I doubt it," said Illazehra. "Those stars are a nasty sort of spell. Unfortunately, the only way to avoid them is to move out of their way. If they hit, they sap away your life."
"We should still try," said one of the thieves.
"No," said Renal. "We need to find Darius and end this."
"Darius isn't the real enemy here. You think the Summoners will just leave if you kill him?"
"All the more reason we should hurry. You!" Renal said, addressing the mercenary mage. "What happened? Are the other mages dead?"
"My partner, Delvas, is. The boy mage is battling a Summoner upstairs right now. He sent us down here to help," replied the mage.
"He's alone?" asked Ceívar, raising an eyebrow.
"He looks like he can handle himself," said one of the assassins. "He killed an Ursvang demon all by himself. And a Summoner."
Impressive, thought Gale. He had hoped he wouldn't see an Ursvang again.
"We should still head upstairs and help him," said Adrian. "The woman he was fighting—she seemed very powerful."
Chapter 74
Apprentice Page 63