Reborn- Journeyman

by Luka Petrov

  Mustering up the last bit of strength he could, the lead mage hurled a bubble of acid with his good hand at two mariliths that were five feet from each other. Both mariliths took 4d6 acid damage since the mage was at the 17th level. The mariliths both failed their dexterity saves and both disintegrated into the ground, leaving the spell book feet away from the hands of the kneeling mage.

  I was beginning to lose hope as we witnessed the carnage of the Gilmore army increase. General Yapal came down from his watchtower to assist the one-handed lead mage who knelt on the ground, growing weak from the loss of blood. General Yapal ripped the edge of his shirt from under his mail and made a tunicate to stop the bleeding from the lead mage’s missing limb. I said to my friends as we watched, both in awe and in shock of the battle, “General Yapal is a very strategic fighter. My dad used to tell me stories about him. Once, when Gilmore was under attack by a tribe of orcs. General Yapal returned his horse to the stables with a tusk fixed to his helmet. My dad inquired about the tusk and told him he looked like a unicorn. He said, no. Call him The Rhino. He had sawed off the tusk of one of the orcs who killed his partner and would wear it in remembrance of his departed friend. He’s both savage and smart!”

  Agnes replied, “He sounds like if anyone can save us, he can.”

  Mariliths surrounded General Yapal and the lead mage. General Yapal, a Battle Master, performed a Lunging Attack with his drawn sword the closet marilith to him. The marilith easily shifted to the side, General Yapal could pierce the side of the beast. General Yapal, expecting that the marilith would behave in this manner, was prepared for and maneuvered a Sneak Attack with a rapier, unleashing it from his belt and piercing the marilith dead center in the chest. The marilith’s head fell back before she crystalized and turned to ash, blowing in the soft breeze.

  Another marilith approached General Yapal and the lead mage. The lead mage, injured from the dismemberment of his hand, was able to cast Swarm Meteor, pelting the mariliths with blazing orbs of fire, plummeting the surrounding ground. The mariliths, resistant to fire damage, did not take the 20d6 fire and bludgeoning damage they should have and surrounded General Yapal and the lead mage. Clearly, an error of strategic offense on the lead mage’s part.

  The mariliths surrounded the two as they stood back to back, fighting until the end. The lead mage, was nearly out of mana and with one hand, was virtually useless. General Yapal, a vicious warrior, was not going to stop. He lunged again at the marilith, but the marilith was no match for him, knocking his sword out of his hand. Left with only the rapier, he attempted to stab the marilith, but his attempts were in vain. The marilith closed in on General Yapal.

  Two sword blades touched either side of General Yapal’s shoulders and crossed at his neck. He gazed into her eyes, presumably the last image he saw before the blades met in the middle with a clash of metal. The marilith relishing in the terror and horror on General Yapal’s face before he died, releasing a cackle of pleasure.

  The lead mage watched General Yapal’s head fall to the ground and shouted, “No! Take me too, as I am responsible for this man’s death.” The mariliths preferred when their opponents did not opt for death, but instead, resisted it. This was not familiar to the mariliths. The only solace I had while I watched this was at least the mariliths would not take joy in this particular killing. A black tornado of weapons approached the lead mage, and there was nothing left after it ravaged the lead mage’s body.

  These seemingly perfect beings towered over the armored soldiers, and from the waist up they were. They were a gorgeous creature, physically desirable and attractive. Standing over nine feet tall, they were built with sumptuous proportions; they move gracefully over the ground. Wearing only gold chains around their naked torso, they are acutely aware of their beauty and relished in the notion of them being the forbidden fruit, the dark, unattainable beauty. Their bottom half oozed a slimy covering over their scales to keep them moist. Incredibly tactile experts in close combat, they were known for their expansion in the Abyss, serving their Lord. Given their high intelligence attribute, they were geniuses in combat and strategy, serving the Demon Lord and expanding his kingdom, all while building and sustaining their energy and dominance for their own advancement.

  The field outside of the village was littered with destruction, carnage, and debris. Black and grey were the new colors that prevailed over the colors of the Village of Gilmore, which had now become the stage of a ruthless battle.

  The air which would normally be vibrant with the sound of work, trade, and craftsmanship is now carrying a thick, black smoke and small embers, hell had descended upon that battlefield as we watched from the barn window, the sky fill with ashes as they rained down onto the ground.

  An army of heroes, born of all that was lawful and good fought the evil and demonic mariliths for survival, and survival alone. However, at this point, it was undeniable which side won. They spread the dead and wounded of the losing Gilmore side around the open field and the faces of the fighters were grim with exhaustion and agony, it will break soon their spirits.

  With the thought of victory in their minds, the winning side of the mariliths fought as if they were invincible. Some Gilmore soldiers had succumbed to hysteria and were barely able to force their bodies in motion, while others just wished all this was over.

  The toll on both nature and humanity was disastrous. It would likely take years before this village will have recovered if we were not all slaughtered. It was clear bodies, gore and lost cannon balls have taken the place of the natural habitat that laid just outside of Gilmore.

  After some time, it was clear that they would defeat the army of Gilmore, King Harold road to the front of the battle to surrender himself. On his horse, he rode in between the mariliths and the defeated mage army.

  I admired King Harold, as I knew of what he was about to do. He would surrender himself, sacrificing his soul to Lord Abraxas to save us as the village. Tears formed in my eyes as I watched this great man ride toward the unknown to give his body to the Demon Lord.

  “Lord Abraxas, my men are outclassed by your army. Before my army succumbs to yours, I wish to honorably surrender myself to you as your servant. My only request is that you show mercy on the village of Gilmore, a village I had the honor and privilege to lead for most of my life. I, therefore, give myself to you,” King Harold shouted atop of his horse, to the open sky above the mariliths who had ceased their onslaught of weaponry.

  As King Harold finished, the sky darkened as black clouds filled it swirling above the army or mariliths. Then a rift opened up in the sky. Through the opening, the Demon Lord appeared and descended into the physical realm. A massive organism of hatred and smoke appeared. Two vicious eyes glared at King Harold and glowed red. Hate and crushing hostility felt as though they could pierce my bowels as I watched the exchange between Lord Abraxas and King Harold.

  This was the first time I had seen him. When he battled Hamon, he wore a black hood and cape, and I could not make out any discernible features. Horns protruded from either side of his giant head, he appeared pale amongst the dark clouds that surrounded him. Fiery symbols adorned either side of his head, and his drooling mouth looked it was about to speak. His head sat upon his massive, muscular, and powerful body. Scorched roped tied around his torso, but I had no ideas of the origins of those.

  “Oh, my word, is that Lord Abraxas?” Cecily asked.

  “I believe so,” I replied. Astounded by his size and depth of the darkness of his aura. Dark clouds surrounded the Demon Lord as he appeared to be gigantic in stature, much larger than I remembered when he revealed that he was not Osgood, but Lord Abraxas.

  The Demon Lord spoke, and the sound of his voice vibrated throughout the entire village, “It is written that I should take you as my loyal servant for all of eternity,” Lord Abraxas shouted pointing at King Harold. “But you will not satisfy my new desire.”

  King Harold trod on his horse in front of the mariliths to calm it as Lord
Abraxas’ resounding voice spooked it. King Harold replied to the Demon Lord’s request, “Then what is it that you want?”

  “I want the boy who goes by the name Edward MacAra as my loyal devotee for all of eternity.”

  My heart fell into my stomach as I heard those words emerge from the Demon Lord’s drooling mouth. My friends gasped; Agnes covered her mouth with her hand in shock. “What!” Walter shouted. “Lord Abraxas wants you?”

  Chapter Two

  My head fell, I did not want to go with the Demon Lord. For some reason, the Demon Lord was fixated on me. Ever since I began my studies at Draererth and Osgood, who was coincidently Lord Abraxas, soon bullied me. He must have heard of my magical abilities and saw me as a threat, even when I was just learning magic. Perhaps he had caught on to my gift. After seeing how powerful he was and the army he had behind him, I was uncertain why he considered me a threat. Even if I learned all the magic I possibly could, his power was insurmountable.

  I wept of desperation; I couldn’t control it. I wanted to show my friends I was strong, but I found myself overcome with the emotion of my fate being out of my hands. I would rather die than be the servant of Lord Abraxas for all of eternity. Cecily came over to comfort me, “We will not allow them to take you,” she proclaimed.

  “That’s right!” Walter agreed. “We will fight for you and we will do whatever we have to in order for you not to be the servant of Lord Abraxas.” Our attention turned back to the battle out on the field just before the Gilmore gate.

  King Harold shouted to the Demon Lord, “It is me you desire. You have always desired me. You do not want that little boy.” King Harold was honorable, even in this time of desperation. Perhaps he wanted to be with his father even if that meant that he would serve the Demon Lord for eternity.

  Lord Abraxas’ voice once again resonated throughout the village, “I want the boy. That is final. You have two days to surrender him to me or I will pillage the village and leave all the villagers dead.”

  King Harold gave a mournful nod to the Demon Lord and rode back to his castle. The mage army retreated behind the Gilmore gate, and they left us alone in the barn to figure all of this out.

  “What are we going to do?” Agnes asked.

  “I do not believe the King will surrender me to the Demon Lord, do you?” I asked.

  “I don’t trust him!” Cecily chimed in. “He has the choice of surrendering a boy and saving his villagers or having his village ravaged and pillaged. I think the choice is easy if you ask me.”

  Walter, feeling his self-confidence once again reasoned, “We did not come all of this way, flee Draererth in the night, see Pronerth in utter rubble only to surrender our dear friend, Edward, the following day. This is not how this is going to go down!”

  Before we could gather our wits about us and figure out what to do, Balfomeir appeared at the barn entrance with his sword drawn and two rows of men behind him.

  “Children, come with me,” demanded Balfomeir.

  We stared at each other, giving each other knowing gazes. Cecily, whose back was toward Balfomeir, turned around and cast a firebolt, in hopes to catch him off guard. I had already dealt with Balfomeir earlier this morning, so I knew what to expect from the deceivingly decrepit hunchback. He was much stronger and able than he appeared, being a high-level Eldritch knight. I admired Cecily’s strong will, but I knew that we were no match for Balfomeir and his men.

  Balfomeir saw the firebolt coming from it seemed a mile away, and instantly put up a Shield Absorb, to absorb the fire element shot from Cecily. Balfomeir turned to his men and said, “Men, it appears these children are not going to go out without a fight. Careful, we will need the boy alive.”

  The men in unison said, “Yes, sir!” As they surrounded us, swords were drawn.

  The fire of us stood with our backs against each other, facing our adversary. I once saw these men as my safe harbor, and now I saw them as the difference between life and death, and ultimately, I was fighting for my life.

  I calmly instructed my cohorts, “Let’s each of us take one. We can get through this one at a time. It will be easier if we don’t take them on as a whole.” Out of the corners of my eye, I saw both Yves and Agnes nod their heads.

  Our plan was to address each of the soldiers, who were trained as fighters, and we go from there.

  Yves shot out a Frost Ray out of her hand at the soldier facing her. He did not know how to defend spells and the soldier too 1d6 cold damage and was unable to grab his weapon, failing his Constitution save.

  I kept with the same element of ice and cast a Frost Bite to the soldier in front of me. It seemed as though the soldiers did not know how to defend against cold damage well, and my target failed his Constitution save and took 1d6 cold damage. He was also not able to grab and hold his weapon as a result of taking the damage.

  Walter went right after me, casting a Firebolt, which turned into a tiny flash in the atmosphere. It was clear, we as a group would carry Walter’s weight as long as he was our friend and part of our party.

  So far, we stopped two of the soldiers, at least for the time being, and that left eight more soldiers and Balfomeir.

  After I saw that Walter’s target was not subdued, I quickly jumped in with a Blast of Eldritch. It was a spell I had learned from my independent studies. I well knew that it could cast this spell at a higher level than I should be able to because of my additional studies. I could direct four beams to each of the soldiers, who never saw this coming. They underestimated me as a child, and understandably so. I had the maximum intensity on all four beams and hit the soldiers perfectly, sending them on their backs.

  I relished when I could hit attacks such as this. This was a remnant of my prior life and using the skills from my previous life. In my former life, I was a geek who would have no friends. I was left to study by myself on most weekend nights, therefore; I had learned a great deal on how to keep things in my mind. The Special Power of my eidetic memory greatly assisted in my offensive magic.

  I realized that I could cast such a powerful spell because I used my intelligence ability score. My intelligence attribute enhanced my spell-casting ability for my spells. I learned these spells through dedicated study and memorization. My intelligence attribute changed spell proficiency despite my difficulty class. It was clear that I would be out of mana when all of this was done, but I literally had nothing to lose. I could not go any further to the bottom than this. I was grateful that when it came to the decision, I made when I reincarnated into this world, that I made one that my entire essence would be based on, my intelligence score. It was my only requirement for reincarnating into this world.

  The soldiers were replaced with another set. Four soldiers remained, and my plan was to continue on as we had been, provided I could keep up my mana. I noticed Balfomeir out of the corner of my eye. It became clear to me that Balfomeir was not pleased with the performance of his soldiers. He walked over to us while we were still surrounded by the second row of soldiers who each surrounded us. We were in a standoff with the second round, and I monitored Balfomeir’s footsteps. He was the one that I was worried about. I was confident that a platoon of low-ranking foot soldiers would not be an issue for us, but Balfomeir would be.

  “Step aside, men. Leave this little inconvenience to me,” Balfomeir said as the surrounding soldiers moved to the side walls of the barn. All of us faced Balfomeir. He used Weapon Bond, and the great-club that was leaning against one of the barn walls came to his hand. Balfomeir said, “My goal here is not to kill you, but to subdue you. Otherwise, I would have summoned my great sword.”

  “We aren’t going without a fight,” Cecily shouted. “The stakes are too high for us not to at least try to get Ed out of this predicament.”

  “I understand your frustration. After I heard that Lord Abraxas wanted Edward MacAra instead of King Harold, I was definitely confused. However! After I witnessed Edward cast the Blast of Eldritch and easily cast four beams, hitting f
our soldiers at the same time, I gathered why the Demon Lord wants the boy. First off, to hit four men with that accuracy and then to render them unconscious with that power, one must be at a high level, or incredibly gifted. Seeing that you are not a high-level mage, sorry, just stating the obvious, then you must be incredibly gifted. I only knew of one other mage with those capabilities,” Balfomeir explained.

  “Who was that?” I asked. I was intrigued. Someone else had the same amount of power as I did at a young age.

  “I cannot say, for I know something I should not. And from the sounds of it, that mage is dead,” Balfomeir answered. “Now, you have two choices. Come with me peacefully or come with me fighting. Either way, you’re coming with me.”

  “We’re fighting!” Cecily shouted, casting a firebolt. Balfomeir put up another Absorb Shield.

  “Girl, I thought you realized, simple cantrips are a waste of your energy,” Balfomeir taunted. He absorbed the energy that Cecily emitted from her palm and took in the power. He then cast Storm Ice. Rock-hard ice pounded the ground. Hailstones pummeled our heads. All of us missed our Dexterity save and endured 2d8 bludgeoning damage and 4d6 cold damage. The dirt ground now covered in ice. None of us could gain traction on the ground, our feet sliding all over the place. Before I knew it, I had slipped, becoming horizontal in the air before I fell to the hard, crystallized ground. The impact knocked me unconscious, and I laid on the cold, wet floor.

  I woke up on the ground with Lord Shortcloak’s hands over me. His eyes were closed as he concentrated, sending his healing energy into me. I opened my eyes and saw that the others.

  Agnes who was also standing over me said, “Ed, we were all knocked out cold. We all eventually slipped on the ground. Cecily attempted to cast another firebolt, but it resulted like the rest did, with Balfomeir absorbing the power and using it us against us. Balfomeir also did a roundhouse club attack on Walter, before he was knocked out. That was spectacular to watch. After each of us was helpless, Lord Shortcloak healed each one of us. You had used up most of your energy, so you took the longest to heal.”