Zectas Volume VI: The Delusive Realm of Mictlan

by John Nest

  “Bones has been my friend even before you were born,” said Tristan. “And Aurora’s free to do whatever she wants.”

  “Over confident prick,” mumbled Tritank under his breath.

  “Right, let’s see how Cynar and Guro handle this,” said Tritank. “Truff, let’s go,” he said to the disguised progeny of the legendary ruby dragon—Valdurath.

  Both brothers flew in the air on top of their draconic creatures.

  “Still can’t believe you found a flame wyvern,” scoffed Tritank. “Personally, I think Dominator’s Ponderous Mist is more useful than fireballs.”

  Ignoring Tritank, he used his Draconic Vision, a shared ability between him and Truffatore, to zoom in on the battle below. “Guro’s using the Orb formation.”

  “What! You can see the battle from here?”

  “Can’t you? Haven’t you learned the Draconic Vision?” asked Tristan.

  “Of course, I have! Was just surprised that you could too,” replied Tritank.

  “Then you can see Aurora and Bones standing next to her?”

  “Obviously! Guess you really want to keep Guro safe, huh?” replied Tritank. “Dominator, fly lower,” he added softly to his wyvern.

  “What are you doing?” asked Tristan, bothered. “I thought I told you to stay away from the battle. We don’t need to intervene.”

  “What if they’ll need our help?” countered Tritank. “Better prepared, than trust everything to a bunch of Zectians!” he added flying even lower.

  At their descended altitude, a zooming DarkElf in green robes came straight for them.

  “Chrys? Why are you here?” asked Tritank, surprised. “Ah! You must have heard about my operation. Yup! I’m sure this would lead to the whereabouts of Snide.” He smugly stared at Tristan. “Yes! The men under my city have discovered this plan,” he proudly added, blatantly slipping in his rank as a Duke of the Thanotl Kingdom. “By the way allow me to introduce—”

  Chrysopelea ignored him and faced Tristan instead. “I’ve done what you’ve asked. The army of my city is stationed to the western plains. When do you want me to join the attack?”

  A bewildered Tritank looked at his older brother and the DarkElf Sonstwelter. “Wait, you two know each other.”

  “Not really. I just asked the good Duke if he was willing to help,” answered Tristan. “That’s alright, Chrys. Your men don’t need to move. Injured Orks will run to them shortly.”

  Chrysopelea flew closer to Tristan, careful not to go near the mouth of Truffatore. “Honestly, I’m not too keen on working with another Sonstwelter. Not after what happened with Faux.”

  “Don’t believe everything you read in the forums,” said Tristan. “Remember how they said that Faux would be competing against me and Amahan?”

  Shaking his head, Chrysopelea sighed deeply. “Still can’t believe that Faux did that.”

  “Told you something was wrong with that guy. Especially, when he said he knew the Orks were coming,” added Tritank. “Now, the forums will be filled with news of our victory. Hell! Maybe we’ll even cover up Smoke’s big foul up!”

  Tristan scoffed. “He deserved it! Who in their right mind would leave for Mictlan when he still has a campaign against a Duke! He’s just greedy is all! That’s why this happened! If it were me, I’d never lose a city!”

  “But didn’t you lose…” began Tritank but stopped after receiving a menacing glare from his brother. “Never mind.”

  “Must’ve been some quest gone wrong,” said Chrysopelea, not noticing the rift between them. “Now, I’m thinking that if we fail this, the same thing might happen to us.”

  “We’d never fail,” boasted Tritank.

  “Amahan’s sure is lucky,” went on Chrysopelea.

  “Why do you say that?” asked Tritank.

  “Nothing,” replied Chrysopelea, dismissive. “Anyway, Cynar and Guro are really impressive aren’t they. Really hoping they’d accept my offer and join my private army.”

  “You’ve invited them?” asked Tritank.

  “Not exactly. I’m still raising my Intimacy with them,” replied Chrysopelea. “So, how can you be sure the Orks will go to where my men are?”

  “Just watch,” said Tristan.

  Below them, Guro had her well trained Avendre Mercenaries circle around the Ork encampment with a single opening. This was one of her military tactics called the Orb Formation.

  Individually, the Avendre Mercenaries would not stand a chance against the Orks who stood over three meters. Even with King Kajou providing all of them with a better weapon—a halberd.

  “I see, she’s leaving an opening for the Orks to escape,” observed Chrysopelea. “Leading them straight for my men.”

  “Impressive, I guess you’ve picked up a book or two on army formations?” asked Tristan.

  Chrysopelea shook his head. “No. Faux used a similar technique when we fought the Orks together.”

  “Ha! He must’ve picked it up from Snide,” remarked Tritank. “You do know that he’s the brains of all the Ork Generals, right?”

  Suddenly, a worried expression overcame Chrysopelea’s face as he pointed below. “Guro’s Mercenaries are breaking formation.”

  Instead of only one exit, the UrukHai Orks have smashed opened three more openings.

  Cynar’s men charged in to fill the gaps. The OrkElves’ battle experience proved effective as they slowly repelled the UrukHai back into Guro’s trap. Yet, due to the sheer difference in brute strength, the progress of rearranging the Orb Formation was time-consuming.

  “This isn’t working,” said Tritank. “Told you Guro and Cynar couldn’t do the job.” Without another word, Tritank had his flying mount dive down. Patting the gray wyvern’s head, it spewed out a cloud of Ponderous Mist, encircling the outer layer of the battlefield. Gray fog fell down on the UrukHai, filling the heavy air with a putrid stench.

  Remembering their defeat from Etonner Valley, the UrukHai fell into a wild rampage, self-inflicting themselves with the Berserk Status. Filled with rage, their eyes turned red and their attacks grew fiercer. Mercenaries and OrkElves were pummeled to the ground with mere fists alone.

  “Idiot!” angrily screamed Tristan.

  Tritank’s thoughtless attack turned the tides against Guro’s and Cynar’s forces.

  Thankfully, Aurora’s abilities were boundless. Thirty-two Holy Crystals flew around the combat zone. It targeted the few Medics and Acolytes scattered amongst the Guro and Cynar’s men, all of whom were hired by Tristan. Swirling in the air, the Holy Crystals gave them increased mana regeneration and strengthened their defense.

  Tasked with the Lioumerean’s well-being, Bones blitzed in between the Orks. Several afterimages of the Sonstwelter Assassin were left behind as he attacked the green giants near Guro.

  “Truff, clear this mess!” commanded Tristan.

  Ruby flames charged from within the mouth of the disguised legendary dragon. In a single breath of fire, the Ponderous Mist dispersed.

  Tristan then pointed to the area which would lead to Chrysopelea’s army. With calculated fireballs, Truffatore cleared the way, killing allies and enemies alike. After that single attack, Tristan and his dragon flew back to a higher altitude.

  “Third, Follow me!” he called out to his younger brother.

  Reluctant, Tritank retreated upward as well. “Sorry, I didn’t—”

  “What’s done is done,” said Tristan. “Now, just stay there and watch.”

  With the Ponderous Mist cleared away, a sudden lull overcame the battlegrounds. Not missing this opportunity, Guro quickly took initiative. “Hook their skulls!” she shouted at the top of her lungs. She had the Avendre’s halberds pull down hard, bringing along the heads of the maddened Orks. Inflicted with the Berserk status, the UrukHais’ defenses were lowered. The pinned down Orks fell victim to the stabbing of more halberds.

  Meanwhile, Cynar had his men maintain position. He had them plugged the gaps that were created before, leaving only
the opening that was agreed upon. Whereas he himself was on look out for his special mission. “Bones, That’s the Ork we want!” he suddenly screamed over the war cries.

  Moving with blinding speed, the two Assassins came upon the newly dubbed UrukHai Colonel—Wertlospreis.

  With a sudden attack from the back, Bones pinned the Wertlospreis down. He then threw paralysis darts onto the Ork’s limbs, preventing any chance of escape.

  Cynar then followed up with his paralysis knives. He attacked the four Ork guards assigned to protect their target. Despite their size, the UrukHais could do nothing against the OrkElf’s speed. Plunging his knives into their legs, he brought them down to their knees. He then finished them off with lightning gashes to their necks.

  “Daganir! Eskapur kamur!” cried out the captured UrukHai Colonel. “Biyair akur!”

  “What’s the bastard saying?” Bones asked Cynar, while still pinning Wertlospreis’ neck with his knees.

  “He’s telling them to escape,” answered Cynar, standing over the UrukHai colonel. “And to leave him behind.”

  Bones gave Cynar a surprised look. “Really? That’s mighty noble of him,” he said, stabbing the Ork behind the neck with a paralysis knife.

  The two Assassins watched two-thirds of the UrukHai run for the intended gap in their formation. Mercenaries opened the way even further as they retreated to the sides.

  Relieved at the chance of escaping, the Orks ran faster as all of them were badly injured.

  However, there were still a few Orks who persisted and stayed, fighting for their other brethren to escape.

  “OrkElves, stay behind the Avendre!” called out Guro, closing in on the Orks that were foolish enough to remain. Halberds pierced and stabbed the tall UrukHais. As some of the Orks tried to close in, Cynar’s men would jump from the sides of the Mercenaries and push back the Orks with their shield and swords.

  Guro and Cynar’s casualty was low, as the critically injured were ordered to stay in the back. There, they were healed by Aurora’s divine light.

  As the last of the Orks were being killed, Tristan, Tritank, and Chrysopelea descended from the heavens. They accurately finished off the half-dead UrukHais from above.

  With the battle finally over, Chrysopelea said his farewell. “I’ll go ahead. Got to make sure that the Orks will be dealt with,” he said and flew towards his army lying in wait for the UrukHai escapees.

  Tristan smiled, proud of the battle’s turnout. “Guro, Cynar, good job you two! Thank you!” he said, smiling at them.

  “No. I’m the one that should be grateful,” said Cynar, looking dearly at Newt Village. After Wertlosvati’s death, Cynar found himself driven to protect his people, most of which were staying at the village he created.

  “Tristan! Thought I told you to stay out of it,” spouted Guro, menacingly pointing her fingers at him while her tail angrily swayed behind her. “We didn’t need your imbecilic wyverns.”

  “Hey! Mind your tongue, Zectian!” screamed Tritank about to attack Guro.

  But not before Tristan pulled him back. “Third, be still.” He commanded. Taking a deep breath, he then faced the angry Lioumerean. Tristan lowered his head before her. “I’m sorry. We were worried that they might scatter and destroy the plan. It’s too big a risk to take. We’re lucky that Duke Chrysopelea even agreed to it.”

  “You should’ve waited,” said Guro, turning her back on Tristan. “Cynar, mind if I have my men rest in your village?”

  “Sure, go ahead. I’ll be right behind you,” replied Cynar. He then turned to Tristan. “So, what’s our next move?”

  Tristan gave him a smug smile. “Now, we just wait for Bones and Aurora to get the truth out of UrukHai Colonel. Of course, you’ll need to be there since you’re the only one who knows Orkish.”

  “No problem,” replied Cynar, eager to help. “Just tell me when and where.”

  “They’re doing it right now,” said Tristan. “They’re set up in the tent over there,” he added, pointing to a large black tent.

  “They really needed a tent for this?” asked Cynar, walking towards it.

  Barely any sunlight went in the pitched up top, except for a strong beam of light which was focused on Wertlospreis’ face. The Ork was strapped with iron chains to a specially designed table, his arms and legs spread apart.

  “Nganuir manir? Nganuir valay paku fatyir?” softly asked the UrukHai Colonel.

  “When is that OrkElf coming?” Bones asked Aurora.

  “Shh. He’s here,” she replied. “Cynar, glad you could make it. Normally, we’d just do this ourselves. But, unfortunately, we need an interpreter.”

  “Right,” replied Cynar. “Tell me what to do.”

  “Just translate,” said Bones. “Tell him, that we’ve got ways to make him talk, and that giving him death would be a gift he’d be begging for.”

  Cynar nodded. “Kavalor silar maga paigir parar mor storyair kair. Ugh, magaju kanir sair fatyonir.”

  “Ha! Boangi rai mair moviliv nilar!”

  “He’s saying—” began Cynar, but was cut off by Bones.

  “It’s okay. I can guess what he’s saying,” said Bones. “They always say the same thing before it starts.” He then grabbed the red-hot forceps heated over a burning coal. He grasped the thumbnail of the Ork and slowly pried it from its nail bed, tearing it off completely from the Colonel’s finger.

  “Aggghhhhhh!” screamed Wertlospreis. “Kanir ranir? Diko mo… Aaaggghhh!” he screamed again as Bones continued with the next nail.

  Wertlospreis life bar steadily lowered after each nail extraction. But was not a concern as Aurora replenished the missing hit points with her divine light.

  More screams of agony came out from the dark tent until all of Wertlospreis’ fingernails were pried out.

  “Now, tell him that we’re about to begin,” Bones said to Cynar.

  “You mean we haven’t started?” asked Cynar.

  But Bones simply gave him an angry look.

  “Karonir maga sugodir nakitar,” Cynar said to the captured Ork Colonel.

  A full hour passed before Aurora, Bones, and Cynar stepped out of the torture tent. All three of them walked over to where Tristan and Tritank were.

  “So? How was it?” asked Tristan.

  “It was…” Cynar was lost for words at the atrocity he had just witnessed. Even when he was keeping children captives, he never hurt them that way.

  But Tristan paid little attention to him as he was asking Bones.

  Bones gave him a knowing nod. “Says Snide is heading for Vlahui City next. We should have about three days?”

  “Good,” replied Tristan and then turned to the OrkElf. “Can you tell Guro that we’re leaving after six hours. And have your men prepared as well.”

  “Alright,” replied Cynar.

  “By the way, did you ask about Guro’s availability?” asked Tristan.

  “Yeah. She said she’s already a part of a private army. Says she’s only on furlough at the moment,” answered Cynar.

  After Cynar walked farther away, Tritank whispered to his older brother. “So, Guro and the Avendre will be on the front lines then?”

  With a look of disdain, Tritank nodded.

  * * * * * *

  A day after defending Newt Village, Tristan and his companions arrived in the desert gem city of Vlahui. Near the borders between Vitzytl and Thanotl, it was the proud bastion of its kingdom.

  Yet, despite its fortifications, Vlahui city still fell victim to Wertlosvati’s invasion, former leader of the united Orks. Now, the city only had up to fifty percent of its proud defenses.

  Tristan shared his theory with his companions. He told them that this was most likely the reason why General Snide was going after this pinnacle city.

  “Do we really need to defend this place?” asked Tritank, riding on the massive carriage being pulled by two ancient bison. This enormous transport was carrying his gray wyvern on the back. “Hate that damn Trottel! Hate
his stinking guts!”

  “He’s a Zectian. You’re really ticked off by an AI?” asked Bones who sat on an identical gigantic carriage. This one carried the disguised Truffatore.

  “You know the Zectians are coded to feel like real people,” countered Tritank.

  Aurora gently patted Tritank’s back. “Don’t let him get to you,” she coaxed as she rode with him.

  “Third, I don’t care what happened between you in the past. But now you should be on your best behavior,” reprimanded Tristan. “I have big plans for this place.”

  “Fine!” sulked Tritank.

  Aurora whispered in his ear. “I know you’re having fun. It’s always been your dream to play with Tristan, right?”

  Shaking his head, Tritank urged the ancient bison to go faster. Marching at a hurried pace, Guro’s and Cynar’s men closely followed behind them.

  Entering the city, their eyes immediately fell on the beautiful flying Zectian. Engulfed in flames, her hair looked like it was on fire. Her feet was at least three meters above the city’s five-story wall. Rapidly, she descended to the ground and walked towards them.

  “That’s Xantana,” blurted out Tritank. “She was one of the contenders in the previous Magi Gagnant Tournament.”

  “Wasn’t she only in the qualifiers?” asked Bones. “Yeah, I remember Faux beating her.”

  “Shh! Quiet she’ll hear you,” ordered Tristan.

  “Welcome to Vlahui City,” greeted Xantana, giving all of them a small bow. Her blonde Elf hair glistening in the sun. “May I ask why the Duke of Thalzoc City is here?”

  Tritank loudly laughed. “Well, you see. I’m here because we’ve learned that Snide is coming.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Xantana, clearly alarmed. “Let me get Duke Trottel. Please make yourselves comfortable while you wait for him.” She then turned to a bulky tiger Lioumerean. “Chouchou, please lead them to the strategy room.”

  “No problem, Love,” replied the muscular Lioumerean. “When you’re all ready. Please follow me.”