Resist

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Resist Page 19

by Derek Belfield


  “You want to use our soul-forged warriors to power the tower,” she said in horrified awe. “That’s why you’re willing to sanction our destruction of Crosstyr, Pineforge, and Ithicus. You need those numbers if you want the tower to grow to its full size.”

  Carrarn nodded grimly. “That’s correct. The Cult recognizes the fact that Mors hasn’t devoted enough resources to the problem of the Scourge. They grow ever larger as he races north to fight the Empire.” The priest looked at the rest of his companions before continuing. “Nocturnus has informed us the Imperials intend on launching themselves on our line as soon as the Scourge opens up an opportunity.” He hesitated. “We have reason to suspect that Koral will soon go the way of Standur.” The leaders of the Scourge, whomever they are, seem intent on fortifying their position before winter. We’re not sure we’ll be able to remove their presence if they’re allowed to grow over the winter.”

  Grievum nodded his head in agreement. He and Bludtyr had both thought the same thing when Mors described the problem to them. That’s why they had been rushing as much as they had. The destruction of Standur was a sign that the Scourge couldn’t be allowed to fester, or the entire Collective might find themselves on the wrong side of the conflict. The Imperials using the opportunity to invade was merely icing on the shit-flavored cake.

  “Operating from the new tower will allow us to reinforce our numbers against Bastion,” Grievum said thoughtfully.

  “Yes,” Carrarn replied. “The Lord of Darkness has identified the destruction of Bastion as our top priority. He has ordered that we pull resources from all over the Collective to focus on the internal threat. Once that has been dealt with, we can push the Ignatum Empire back as far as necessary.”

  “Okay,” Bludtyr replied after sharing a look with Grievum. “We’ll help in any way we can. Our forces are at your command, Carrarn.”

  Carrarn sighed in relief, and a strange wave of relaxation passed through the rest of the Cultists behind him. “Good,” Carrarn said softly. “We were worried that your pride would get in the way of your pragmatism. That often seems to be the case with the Vallyr.” He gave them a grateful look, “For the glory of Nocturnus and his eternal night.”

  “For the glory of Nocturnus,” the two generals replied solemnly.

  CHAPTER 16: THE KORAL SITUATION

  SLATE SAT ON the roof of the abandoned warehouse that he had commandeered. As he stared out into the city, he was reminded how much he enjoyed the nighttime. There was something fresh about it. The air didn’t carry the same stench, and the cooler weather sent the majority of the people indoors. He detected the sound of drunken sailors as they went about their debauchery, and he could hear the wail of slaves in their pens. Koral had its fair share of both, it seemed. The visiting sailors and their cargo of slaves were locked within the city as the conflict with the Ignatum Empire disrupted their usual routines. Imperial ships filled the bay as far as the eye could see. They hadn’t attacked the city—the cost was likely too high for the Imperials to make such a move—but Slate knew they wouldn’t wait forever. Koral had impressive naval defenses. There were coastal towers that held defenders, a deep chain that dwelt just beneath the surface of the water— ready to catch and maim any ship that entered—and defending ships waited at the docks, ready to protect their home port.

  Just the presence of the invaders gave the city an impression of being under siege despite the facts pointing to the contrary. The land routes were still open, farmers still went about their labors after a harvest, merchants still hawked their wares, and the high lords still slept somewhat soundly in their richly appointed homes. Yet, the city still acted as if it were at war, and the night gave the air an absolute stillness that couldn’t be found during the daytime. Looking out among the flickering torches like a sea of stars, Slate could almost pretend that he was alone in the city, observing it like an omniscient god.

  The truth was, Slate would never be alone anymore. He could feel members of the Scourge throughout the entire city like phantom limbs. Lurkers and Enticers spread themselves through the arteries of the city like a sickness. Everywhere they went, they left dead enemies and converted allies. Fidem and Matek were both pleased by the progress they had made in the city while Sumnu gnashed his teeth, ready to do something more substantial than waiting in the warehouse below Slate’s feet.

  It isn’t yet time, Slate whispered to himself.

  He felt like he almost understood how Koral fit into the bigger picture. It was a massive city by Collective standards, but the rot of poor stewardship spread even here. Slaves died in their pens, shortages of materiel and goods were rampant, the people had taken on a gaunt appearance, and sickness spread through the poorest and most vulnerable in the city. The last sign had been the surest way that the Scourge were able to spread their influence. The most natural use of Lucidus’ many blessings was to cleanse away sickness. When Slate rode the consciousness of his Enticers, he could feel how simple it was to use the Lord of Light’s magic to heal. He almost regretted not having the ability himself. Using the destructive side of her power was like redirecting a waterfall. Healing, it seemed, only required the barest of touches. Slate couldn’t decide if that was a product of their faith or the natural tendencies of Lucidus’ aspect.

  Either way, the Faithful were becoming a stronger force in the streets of Koral every day. They spread the Way of Lucidus, which they first learned to protect themselves from the depravities of the Vallyr. It was a masterstroke. The Enticers whispered in the ears of the common folk and drove the wedge deep between the ruling and the working class. It was some of the most effective subversion that Slate had ever seen. As a purveyor of propaganda himself, he could appreciate Fidem’s methods.

  As the city grew more desperate and the pressure increased both within and without, more and more people were turning to the Scourge for succor. The Enticers had transformed the Way, an incomplete, yet already-impressive martial art, into a philosophy that taught its adherents to use their bodies and everyday items as weapons. Slate knew that Fidem had created the version himself, and he was reminded of Fidem’s background. He had experience rousing rabbles and pulling down leaders. It was a lesson for Slate’s own rule, and he carefully observed the man. After seeing the First Enticer’s tactics in the city of Koral, Slate had become more confident that he could neutralize the man himself. He doubted that Fidem even realized how much he was showing his hand as Slate looked over his shoulder.

  The Lurkers were similarly busy looking after their allies. The Enticers were only as successful as they were because of the support they received from the Lurkers. Every time there was a Collective patrol on the way to break up a collection of Faithful, the Lurkers would disrupt their patrols or assassinate their leaders. The leadership in Koral hadn’t even had the chance to see the priests that plagued their streets and turned their people against them. Slate smiled at the thought. He enjoyed the idea of his adversaries grinding their teeth over a phantom they couldn’t see, much less catch.

  With a little more work, Slate knew the city would likely tear itself apart. He just had to bring the city to its tipping point. He had already spent close to a week in the town. He would need to accelerate the deconstruction if he wanted to get back to Bastion any time soon. He could keep this city on a low boil until he tried to claim it for his own, but that would take too much time. He was more inclined to tip it over and watch the Empire take its place. That would give Slate the space to consolidate his strength and defend himself from the Collective’s aggression.

  Matek, he called. The First Lurker was in the building below and well within the range of the Scourgemind. Slate looked up as he heard the sound of claws scraping against the roof. He flipped over to his Mana Vision and spotted Matek nearing his position. The man was entirely invisible to Slate’s normal vision.

  Yes, my Lord? Matek asked as he took a seat next to Slate and joined him in surveying the city.

  Slate would never tell Matek that h
e appreciated his camaraderie, but all the same, Slate did. Slate used compliments when it suited his purpose, but Matek wasn’t motivated by praise. He enjoyed the challenge of defeating his opponents and working for a capable leader. Anything else was of little value to Matek. It almost made Slate appreciate the man more. He didn’t have to pretend with Matek; it was merely a friendly, professional relationship. Matek seemed to grasp his stratagems before his other advisors. It made him feel a kinship toward the merchant-turned-spy. It helped that the Lurker was unflinchingly loyal. Slate couldn’t think of a single time that the man had failed in his duties. Even his subordinates were well trained and professional. That alone was worth its weight in gold to Slate.

  Have you located the Imperial agents within the city? Slate asked.

  There was a pause as Matek considered what to say. Slate watched the man’s breath make a cloud in the chilled air from the corner of his eyes.

  I think so, my Lord, he replied finally.

  You think so? Slate questioned.

  Matek nodded. I thought I would need to search the city to find them, but I think they’ve been under our nose the entire time.

  Slate let the silence hang in the air. He recognized that Matek was working through his thoughts and didn’t need Slate’s interruptions.

  It seems that the high lord over Koral, a Vallyr by the name Lukas dal Luvyth, has been hosting a special guest for over a month. My Lurkers have tried to penetrate the citadel, but they’ve been wary of being found out by any advanced magics. Matek sighed. It seems that the Cult of the Leech has a heavy-handed influence in the city, and many of their number reside in the citadel with the high lord.

  Slate frowned. Is that usual?

  No, not really, my Lord. Typically, the Cult takes a hands-off approach to governance. From what I understand of the dynamic, the Cult lets the high lords bear the brunt of the common people’s displeasure, and they intercede only when necessary to keep the peace. Many believe the Cult has a hand so far up Mors’ ass that he’s little more than a talking puppet, but others say that Mors is the first Patriarch to stand up to the Cult.

  Slate chuckled. Sounds complicated.

  Matek silently agreed. It could be in our favor, though. Fidem has done, Matek paused as if something distasteful were crossing his tongue, an admirable job of turning the population against the Vallyr as a whole. It seems they’re not distinguishing between the high lords or the Cult. Many want to overthrow the Vallyr. They’ve been wildly more successful than the Circle was in its previous efforts. Matek sounded almost envious, and Slate noticed how difficult it was for him to give Fidem any credit for the work that he accomplished. The Scion decided to change the subject.

  So, the inner citadel hasn’t been scouted out. Have you looked into their military installations and resource centers?

  Indeed, we have, Matek assured. Whenever you want, I’m confident we could sabotage any number of resources and throw the city over the edge.

  Slate mulled over his options. I want it to be slow. Have the Lurkers sneak some Mystics to the resource centers and start burning them. Focus on the foodstuffs. A hungry army is a dead army. If the high lord starts taking food from the common people, he’ll accelerate my plans nicely. Slate reached up and placed a hand on Matek’s shoulder.

  Also, get me a meeting with the Imperial ambassador. I want to see if we can get a trade out of them. They’ve got ships in the harbor just sitting there. If they time the attack with our sabotage, I don’t see why this city can’t be falling and burning while we make our way back to Bastion.

  Matek nodded before standing. I’ll take care of it right now, my Lord.

  Slate watched the First Lurker as he sprinted off into the night and turned back to his study of the city. He was growing bored. He hadn’t killed anything in close to a week. The lack of motion, as necessary as it was, started to grate on him.

  Maybe Shale has rubbed off on me more than I realized, he thought ruefully.

  He considered what he could do that would make a difference in the city. Right now, the Scourge was working on a macro scale to destabilize the city. However, there were several things an individual could do to achieve the same result. Slate rolled his shoulders and felt them click and pop in their sockets. He spread his wings to stretch them as well.

  Perhaps it’s time for me to meet the high lord in charge of Koral, he thought with amusement. Killing the leader of the city would undoubtedly throw the city into a state of frenzy. The Faithful would be emboldened, and the Vallyr detractors would be encouraged. Tensions will increase to a fever pitch if resources start becoming scarcer at the same time. If the Vallyr couldn’t even protect their leader, then how were they going to protect the citizens? How were they going to put food on the table? How would they defend themselves from the predations of the Ignatum Empire? Short answer: they wouldn’t. Slate smiled evilly at his plot. Yes, this will be a good use of my talents.

  Serena caught track of the direction of his thoughts.

  What are you planning? She asked him. He looked over at her, startled. Serena had been his constant shadow since they arrived in the city. She seemed to be taking the threat from Shale seriously. Serena had been the one to suggest that he shouldn’t leave the warehouse once they had chosen it as a base of operations. Of course, she would want to know where he was going now.

  I’m bored, he replied. I think I’m going to assassinate the leader of this city. His tone was casual, but that didn’t stop Serena from becoming annoyed.

  Why now? She asked. We’re on the cusp of knocking the city over. Why do you want to risk yourself? She was reasonable, Slate knew. He hated when reason and logic ran counter to what he wanted.

  It’s not necessary, and I admit that. He was a bit sheepish. I’m craving the feeling of blood on my scales. Killing the high lord will throw the city into a frenzy. I’ll be accomplishing two goals at once.

  I want to go with you, Serena said confidently.

  No, he said flatly. I’ll be flying there, and you don’t have wings yet.

  Serena sighed heavily. She knew that once Slate had decided to do something, there was little anyone else could do to stop him. At this point, she could only do her best to minimize the potential risk.

  I’ll wait for you here, she said. Please be safe.

  I will. He smiled and leaned forward to give her a quick kiss before backing away on the roof. He spread his wings and launched himself into the air. Serena watched him go as the force that propelled him made the warehouse shudder as if hit by the wind of a hurricane. Slate let his wings guide him toward the center of the city and the Vallyr citadel. He made sure that his camouflage was as strong as it could be, and he started flicking through his mutations on the fight over. He still had a little over three hundred biomass, and he wanted to make sure he beefed up his stealth abilities in preparation for the assault. He also knew that the mutations would make Shale’s job in the west easier as well. The pair was a deadly combination on any battlefield, but the Scourge still wasn’t large enough to engage in large-scale battles just yet. That was why Slate was winging himself toward an assassination instead of reducing the city to burning coals.

  The first thing Slate decided to invest in was his detection abilities. This was reasonably easy to choose because he had learned that both Matek and Sumnu had different spectrums of sight. Matek’s thermoelectric vision seemed especially useful in those situations where the enemy could turn invisible or reduce their mana signature like Slate could do with his scales. He first had to buy Thermal Vision.

  Thermal vision: this mutation imbues the user with heat-detecting pits near the eyes. This allows the user to see in the infrared spectrum. This mutation can be further evolved to increase range, sensitivity, add an electric component, and more.

  Once Slate selected thermal vision, he overlaid the view on top of normal vision. His head started to hurt as he studied the ground below him. His mind had to parse through the various ways of seeing the s
cenery, and soon he turned off the enhanced vision entirely. He was confused by the strain that the vision had on his body, and he realized that he probably needed to mutate his cognition such that he could utilize his senses to their fullest potential. He still needed the electric component of his vision, and he purchased that next. There was a warm feeling in his eyes like he had put eye drops onto agitated corneas. The prompt hit his vision next.

  Thermoelectric vision: this mutation evolves the pit organs by granting them electroreceptors. Mana can be channeled into the thermoelectric pit organs, causing them to emit an electronic wave that causes biological creatures to emit electronic radiation in response. The natural body heat of the opponent, combined with the electronic radiation, allows the pit organs to create a complete resonant image in their vision. This allows the user to see every part of the organism in complete detail.

  When Slate activated the new enhancement, he was awed by its capabilities. The Thermoelectric Vision had combined with the Mana Vision in a way that he hadn’t suspected. Now that he could emit radiation in a wave by using mana, he found that the mana travelled along his line of sight and more than just biological substances emitted a response. Slate realized that it was like having an x-ray and an MRI machine in his mind all at once. He could see into and through most objects, to include things that didn’t usually have a resonance, like stone. He could see through the buildings below him and detect how many living creatures there were, the layout of the building, and where the structure was the weakest. After a few moments using this enhanced vision, his head began to throb painfully. He cut off the sight and returned to his normal vision. His eyes were now as good as a superhero’s. He was ecstatic about their new effect. The strain on his mind as he tried to understand the sheer amount of data he was receiving was something he would need to work on. He figured that, with use, it would become easier to utilize. At a later point, he could look into finding a mutation that would solve the impairment permanently.

 

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