Immortal Swordslinger 4

by Dante King

  “I don’t see Kegohr racing me through the sky at night,” I said with a wink. “Ask the monks. I’m sure they’ll teach it to you Environmental Augmentation if we stay here as long as you want to.”

  Vesma’s eyes locked hungrily onto mine. “And you’d do that?”

  “Depends. If—”

  “Swordslinger!” a voice yelled from the valley below.

  I whirled to search out the origin of the voice. A single figure stumbled forward and collapsed at the other end of the plateau, beside a gravestone. I sprinted over and fought off a wave of nausea when I spotted the man who’d spoken. Intestines glistened between his fingers as he tried to hold his own organs in his body, and blood pumped over his hands in a tide of red. His sunken eyes sought mine out, and I crouched beside him.

  I propped up his head. “What happened?”

  “Winged demons,” the stranger gasped. ”From above.”

  “Spinedrakes,” Vesma said grimly.

  “No, not monsters,” the man said as he gripped his stomach. “Demons. I went to the monastery, but you weren’t there. Your friend, the half-ogre, said you might be in the Vigorous Zone. He wanted to accompany me, but I said I had to deliver this message alone. Then. . . then I was attacked. If you hadn’t been flying, I would never have found you.”

  “I’ll get you to safety,” I said. “Just hold on.”

  “No, I’m—” The wounded man coughed blood over the front of my robes. “I’m done for. I know that. But you must—” His breath hitched in his throat, and a death-rattle hissed from his lungs. “You must stop them.”

  The man’s fingers brushed uselessly against a scroll tucked into his belt. I pulled it out and looked back to the messenger’s face. Sightless eyes gazed up into the sky, and a small smile crossed his features in death. I pulled the scroll from his belt and gently set the still-warm corpse down upon the rocky ground.

  “What a terrible way to die,” Vesma shuddered.

  I glanced over the scroll. A bloodstained seal bearing the Wysaro red eagle stood out on the blood-stained parchment, and I broke it without a second thought. The handwriting was messy and looked as if it had been scrawled in a tremendous hurry.

  Swordslinger,

  They’ve taken the Castle. Demons everywhere.

  We cannot reach the city in time.

  We beg your help, in the name of the gods.

  Cinder Wysaro

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “They call out for help, Master,” Yono urged.

  “We must answer their call,” Choshi said.

  “The Wysaro should pay for their crimes,” Nydarth said. “Leave them to their suffering.”

  I pushed aside the thoughts from the Immense Blades and handed Vesma the letter.

  Vesma’s eyes widened. “Demons? In Wysaro Castle?”

  “Yeah,” I said.

  I untied my robe from around my chest, slid the outer layer off, wrapped my robe around the body’s torso to hold the intestines and tied it off with a tight knot. I hauled the corpse over my shoulder and pushed fire through my physical channels.

  Vesma re-read the letter, then rolled it up, and stuck it into her belt. “I haven’t met Cinder Wysaro before, but it sounds like she needs our help.”

  With Vigor-enhanced strength, the weight of the corpse became nothing, and we started back toward the monastery at a swift pace. I tried not to focus on the smell of the dead body over my shoulder as we climbed a rocky slope, and the monastery came into sight.

  “What if it’s a trap?” Vesma asked.

  “I don’t think it is,” I said. “Think about it. The Wysaros are proud. They’d be the last people to turn to me for help. They sent one of their own up here. It must have taken at least a day or more to make the trip. If it’s a trap, it reeks of bad planning.”

  Vesma grimaced. “Do you think Tymo will help us?”

  “He sent me out on a mission to find his missing monks,” I said, “and when I found one of them, the guy was summoning demons. Then, when I wanted to find the others, Tymo gave us all a curfew and did his best to keep us from leaving the monastery.”

  Color drained from her face. “You think he’s involved?”

  “It’s a little too neat to be a coincidence, don’t you think?”

  “You can’t seriously be thinking about fighting him,” Vesma said. “He has centuries of experience, and you know that the other monks will stand by his side if you try.”

  “I don’t plan on fighting any of them if I can help it. They’ve taught us well, and last I checked, none of us have turned into insane cultists. It could be a coincidence, but I doubt it. If they try to stop us from leaving, then I’ll do what I have to. At the very least, the timing is unfortunate. The worst-case scenario is that they’ve all turned and want us dead.”

  Vesma exhaled sharply and doubled her pace. “I hope you’re wrong, but even if you are, this won’t end well.”

  “Clan Wysaro needs our help,” I said. “Of course, it won’t end well.”

  A ghost of a smile crossed her face as we started up the last set of stairs toward the monastery. I made sure to keep my breathing light and only supply as much Vigor as I needed into my body. The corpse was heavy, but I owed it to the man to give him a proper burial and not leave him to the spinedrakes. He’d finished his mission, in the end.

  I set the corpse down in front of a golden statue flanking the entrance to Dying Sun Monastery and leapt up the stairs in a single bound. I pushed the doors open with a heave. They loudly scraped against the smooth floor and echoed through the main hall.

  “Not exactly the quietest way to make an entry, if you intend subtlety,” Nydarth warned.

  “Fuck subtle,” I replied. “They’ll find out one way or the other.”

  “Pick up some supplies if you have them,” I told Vesma.

  I sprinted into the corridor of cells and banged on Mahrai’s door.

  “Get up, get dressed, find provisions. We’re outta here!” I called.

  A muffled thump echoed through Mahrai’s cell, and I heard her curse through the door. I pushed into my own room and pulled on a fresh tunic. I slung Faryn’s pouch of potions around my waist beside the Sundered Heart and stepped back outside to get the others.

  A shadow at the end of the corridor caught my eye. I drew the Sundered Heart halfway from its sheath before I made out Tymo's figure. He folded his hands in his sleeves as he strode forward with slow steps. I sheathed my sword again and ran through my options.

  I couldn’t trust the Archpriest. That much was certain.

  But a pitched fight in the middle of the monastery would just take up time, and I wasn’t even sure that I could survive it.

  Tymo's eyes flashed dangerously as he paused 20 yards away from me. The sound of my newly woken friends echoed in the background as I inclined my head in a respectful gesture.

  “Nothing wrong with being polite,” Choshi said nervously.

  “I left specific instructions,” Tymo said gravely, “that you were not to leave the monastery without permission or to spend frivolous time with your fellow students. And yet here you are, ignoring my commands a few days later.”

  “Someone’s requested our help,” I said.

  “And who might that be?”

  I shook my head. “It makes no difference, Tymo. They’ve called for me, and I’m leaving to help them. What kind of Swordslinger would I be if I ignored it in favor of growing in power?”

  “I thought I made the consequences of your disobedience clear,” Tymo said, his voice calm. “If you leave the Dying Sun Monastery prematurely, you will not be welcomed back.”

  “Without the express permission of the teachers,” I countered. “I’ll do you the courtesy, then. Will you let us leave now that there’s a situation to be handled? We’ll return as soon as the mission allows us to.”

  “Tell me your intentions, Swordslinger, and I will consider it.”

  I met his gaze and considered the thought. If T
ymo was innocent, there was no harm in telling him about the demons in Wysaro Castle. But if he wasn’t, and the monks were complicit in the demon’s presence in Flametongue Valley? Then I’d be giving an enemy a free shot at taking all of us out. I couldn’t run the risk, and I didn’t trust Tymo. Not after what I’d seen in Danibo Forest. There was no good reason to give him the benefit of the doubt.

  “I shouldn’t have to,” I said. “If you trust in your own teaching, and in me, then you shouldn’t have to know. You said it yourself. Yours is the realm of knowledge and teaching, not of combat. So, let us leave.”

  “I cannot allow it,” Tymo said.

  “Then get out of the way,” Mahrai said.

  She stepped out into the hallway. Her bronze-capped staff glinted in the torchlight as she held it close to her side and fixed Tymo with a deadly stare. Tymo's eyes flicked to the doors beside me. Faryn, Kumi, Vesma, and Kegohr appeared, fully armed and ready for action. They gathered behind me and created a wall of battle-hardened Augmenters.

  “I must ask you to consider the consequences of such an action,” Tymo said. “Your mastery of Augmentation will slow to a grinding halt. You will lose all access to our teachings. I will personally inform Guildmaster Xilarion of your irreverence and your inability to follow instructions. Would you all run such a risk for this threat that seem to take so seriously?”

  “In a heartbeat,” I replied. “I didn’t get this far by playing it safe.”

  “And you are all in agreement with Ethan?” Tymo asked my friends. “You would lay aside the tools necessary for mastery to follow him in his folly? You run the risk of abandoning the Wandering Path, Swordslinger. At the very least, think of your friends and their own development.”

  “Ethan’s never led us astray before,” Kegohr rumbled. “He’s not about to start.”

  “Even you, Master Faryn?” Tymo said, almost pleading. “Would you abandon our monastery to follow him? Have your feelings for the Swordslinger clouded your better judgement?”

  Faryn joined my side and laid a hand on my shoulder. “I’d follow him into the depths of hell itself, Master Tymo. I trust his judgement. Can you not offer the same trust?”

  Tymo's expression darkened. “I cannot. I serve the Wandering Path above all.”

  “Then allow it to take us away from you,” Kumi said. “It has run its course here.”

  Pride flooded through me as my friends stood at my back. I couldn’t have asked for better support through my training, my fights, and confrontations like this one.

  “I will not stoop so low as to fight you on this,” Tymo said. “But if this is truly your decision, so be it. I will inform Xilarion and the guild that you have abandoned your training.”

  “You do that,” I said. “There’s a corpse on the stairs. He died to bring news to us. If you need any more proof of the importance of this mission than that, I have nothing more to say to you.”

  Tymo stood to the side. Subtle disgust curled his lips into a sneer as I walked straight past him. The tension in the air built as I led my friends through the main hall, the soft light of the enormous room flickering. I pushed the front doors open on their massive hinges, and crisp mountain air washed over me as I took a deep breath and strode down the front stairs of the monastery.

  I didn’t look back.

  “Ethan, explain,” Faryn said. “What’s happened?”

  “Give her the scroll, Vesma,” I said. “Wysaro Castle is under attack. Whoever gave this to the messenger must have sent it at least a day ago. If it’s true, then there could be demons running rampant throughout the valley right now.”

  We pressed on through the Vigorous Zone, each of us grappling with the consequences of leaving the Dying Sun Monastery behind and what we might discover at Wysaro Castle. Mahrai, of all people, was the first to finally voice her thoughts.

  “I’m all for leaving those old bastards behind,” she said, “but didn’t you want to train with them in the first place? Couldn’t you learn more if you’d stayed longer?”

  “Every one of us learned something new, and the basics on how to grow stronger,” I answered. “You’re right. We could stay longer and continue to refine our techniques. But we’ve already got everything we need for a fight, and there’s nothing to say we can’t continue to learn ourselves.”

  “And you’re not about to stay cut off from the world if someone needs your help,” Kumi confirmed. “Who is this Cinder? Do you know her, Faryn?”

  “One of the nieces of Jiven,” Faryn said as she skirted around a stone cairn. “She built the clan back from chaos almost single-handedly, and she was the one noble that presented Radiant Dragon with a peace offering to rebuild trust. She’s currently the highest ranking clan member.”

  “Smaller girl, dark hair, pale skin?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Faryn said.

  “I think I saw her at the exhibition match.”

  “Yes, that would have been her.”

  “Who’s ‘they’?” Kegohr asked as he rolled up the hastily scrawled letter. “The letter said, ’They’ve taken the castle.’”

  “Hard to tell,” I said, “but if my experience is anything to go by, I think it’s the missing monks. It could be the Unwavering Shadows Cult, but this feels like something bigger.”

  “It took Saruqin months to summon a demon army,” Mahrai said, “so what you’re saying seems to follow. We’re going into a tough fight, either way.”

  A tense silence fell over the party as we made our way down the mountain path to the fast-flowing river beneath. Sunlight drifted over the mountains, and it was mid-morning before I called a halt for rest. Kumi refilled the waterskins while I gathered everyone in a small semi-circle. They watched me carefully as I outlined my plan of attack.

  “Here’s the situation as we know it,” I began. “The Wysaros sent me a letter asking for help. It sounds as if demons have overrun Flametongue Valley’s best fortress and that the Wysaros, at least, are in danger, if not already dead. But we don’t know how far the demons have gotten. I don’t see anything on fire just yet, but that might be about to change.”

  Vesma grimaced. “So, you’re suggesting we split up.”

  “Nah, nah, nah. We’re stronger together,” Kegohr said. “If we need to hit Wysaro Castle, the more of us there are, the better it’ll be.”

  “Xilarion needs to know about this,” I said, “if he doesn’t already. The guild will need someone to explain the situation to them. They’ll need leaders, healers, and experienced disciples to help back them up.”

  “So, we split into two groups,” Faryn said. “One goes to the castle, the other to Wysaro City to warn the guild and the people. It’s a good plan, but time is of the essence. How will we reach our locations in time if the demons have already taken hold of the castle?”

  “We take the fastest Augmenters to the castle, and the others head up to fortify the city,” I explained. “Mahrai, Vesma, and I are the quickest on our feet. With the golem and Flight, we can make it to the castle by dark, if not before.”

  “And let you have all the action?” Kegohr asked.

  “Faryn and Kumi need a heavy hitter to take the attention off them in an attack,” I said. “You’re the heaviest hitter we have. If I’m right, and Wysaro City comes under siege, you’re the best guy to be there, aside from Xilarion, in terms of raw power.”

  Kegohr grunted at the praise. “I get you, but I don’t like it.”

  “Neither do I,” I said, “but it’s the best way to do this. Put it this way: if the worst is true, then Tymo is going to need his head cracked off something, and you’re the best head-cracker I know. I’ll deal you in on any fights we have once I know the guild is safe.”

  “I don’t want to raise an alarm around the city if there’s nothing coming to attack it,” Faryn pointed out. “How will we know if this is an empty endeavor?”

  “Watch the castle,” I said. “If you don’t see a pillar of flame erupt from it, then we’re in the clear
. If there’s a fight, or any sign of demons, then I’ll give you a signal to ready the guild.”

  Faryn nodded. “Understood. Kumi, shall we?”

  Kumi slung the waterskins over her back. “Right behind you. Be careful out there, husband. I want you back safe and whole.” She skipped up to me, kissed me, and squeezed my hand encouragingly. “The spirits are with us. Your decision was the right one, I’m sure of it.”

  Faryn kissed me, and Kegohr offered me a fist-bump. I slammed my fist into his meaty paw, and he gave me a reluctant grin before he turned to leave.

  Vesma and Mahrai followed me as we crossed the river and started out across the rolling plains toward Wysaro Castle. A few small villages clustered around the center, surrounded by farmland, and a bolt of trepidation hit my gut. If a demon army already had hold of Wysaro Castle, there was no telling what they could do to the rest of Flametongue Valley.

  Mahrai flicked her fingers, and her golem appeared from the earth beside her. The usual bulky minion had shifted its form into something more athletic. The golem stood at around seven feet tall, and its white marble skin caught the light of the morning sun as the last of the stone finished arranging itself into a humanoid form. Long limbs and wide, almost platform-like shoulders stood out on Mahrai’s companion as it crouched beside her. She swung up onto one of the shoulders and motioned for Vesma to join her.

  “I can fly,” Vesma said.

  “The whole way to the castle?” Mahrai asked. “Just get on. You can soar along if you want to, but if we’re walking into a demonic incursion, you’re going to want some Vigor left over, right?”

  “I hate it when you do that,” Vesma muttered.

  She clambered onto the golem’s other shoulder, and Mahrai snapped her fingers. The creature readied itself against the ground like a track runner and took off. Its long limbs thudded firmly into the ground and propelled the girls forward as if they were on horseback. I drew into myself, took a deep breath, and attuned myself to the raw Vigor in the environment.

  “Now you will take to the skies as I once did,” Nydarth whispered. “Unbound and free.”