Four tornadoes of flying insects surrounded Thorik and his party in the desert mountain pass, blocking them from any escape. Only by Thorik’s use of Rummon was he able to keep them at bay, but even that was short lived as the queens within each tornado swarm worked together to attack from behind Thorik and the direction he held the spear.
The yellow stripes on the back of the queens flashed brightly in order for them to communicate, and the frequency of the light show was intensifying. It was just a matter of seconds before the Guardians would work in complete unison to launch a full attack and destroy them.
Without warning, the flashing lights from the queens stopped. Thorik could hear a moment of silence from the extreme buzzing, as every insect stopped for a moment to change flight paths. The only sound he heard was the thumping of his own heart against his chest as he looked out at the towering endless supply of attackers. His decision to come here had not only failed, but it had cost them all their lives. What had he done?
The quarter-mile high towers of insects dove down onto the travelers to carry out the orders of their queens. The sheer weight of all of the insects smothered everyone’s bodies as the travelers were quickly covered.
Grewen fell to his hands and knees, sheltering Avanda and Brimmelle from the weight of their attackers, but could not stop the attacks themselves.
Santorray continued to stand as his strong arms and hands continued to destroy the insects. But even he would have to relinquish sooner or later, and there seemed to be an endless supply of insects.
Thorik turned and faced his friends, launching Rummon’s power up in the air and frying dozens of insects every second with the spear’s heated breath. But the insects were replaced so quickly that it was barely even noticed by his companions.
A dozen insects landed on Thorik’s back, forcing him to the ground with the spear trapped underneath him. The weight quickly loaded on, preventing him from pulling the spear out to use it. He was defenseless.
Continuing with the attacks, the Guardians pounded the travelers until suddenly there was a second lapse in wing beats. Immediately afterward, all of the insects abandoned the attack.
Injured and bloody, the travelers looked up to see the four tornadoes reform above them. In addition, dust was being kicked up from the dirt road as an army approached. A Del’Unday army. Ergrauth’s army. “As if the Guardians needed help,” Thorik thought in dismay.
The army of Del’Unday had come around the bend unnoticed by the Guardians, who had been preoccupied with the travelers. Thousands of Del’Unday warriors filed in around the valley walls, armed with catapults, battering rams, counterweight trebuchets, and wagons filled with weapons and supplies.
It was only moments before the Guardians reacted to the approaching armored troops and quickly launched their attack on the Del’Unday with all four swarms flying toward them.
Fortunately for Thorik, he had assumed wrong. The Del’Unday army and the Guardians were adversaries, which had provided a reprieve from their attack on the travelers.
“Thorik,” Santorray said with haste. “Cover up that spear.”
“Why?”
“It once was Ergrauth’s spear. If he reclaims it, there will be no stopping him.”
Thorik quickly covered it up. “How about Vesik and Varacon?”
“He knows not and cares not about these things. The spear was a special gift given to him, long ago.”
The Del’Unday army continued to approach as various Del species came around the bend caring weapons while some rode Fesh’Unday creatures. Other Fesh pulled wagons and the larger warfare equipment. Flags flapped in the breeze as their masses seemed to grow.
Standing several heads taller than the other Blothruds in the ranks was the one that led them. He was a towering Blothrud of massive muscles and sharp spikes who had the legs of a red wolf, a hairless body of a human, and a head of a dragon. His red body dripped of sweat and his veins pulsed with heated blood. Thick black battle blades and spikes extended from his body across his shoulders, down his back, and on his elbows and knees.
This was the great demon, Ergrauth, as he walked with a confidence of victory, leading his army of Del’Unday warriors toward the Guardians. Each stride slammed powerfully onto the ground causing the earth to shake. Ergrauth was the ultimate Del’Unday. He was the most superior Blothrud, or any Del’Unday for that matter. He was the demon of the land and all that rested upon it, and he showed his pride with each massive step.
Seeing the clouds of insects attacking, Ergrauth launched his own forces to intercept them by giving off a deep howl, which shook the hillsides. The order had been given, and his army lurched forward.
An assault by armed Dels immediately started wiping out the insects, as they slashed the insects with maces and shields. They seemed to be no match.
However, it wasn’t long before the rest of the invading insects arrived. By sheer numbers they began to change the tide of the battle as hundreds of thousands hovered over the road, diving down and attacking the backs of their victims.
Ergrauth easily swatted them away from his face. He was a master of war and knew when to use the right weapon for the right enemy. Grabbing a horn from his side, he blew into it.
The high-pitched noise was difficult for most to hear, especially in the heat of battle. After the long blast into the horn, he placed it back at his side and swatted away the insects near him as though they were nothing more than flies.
The battle raged on as two more tornadoes of insects arrived to help dominate the battle.
Ergrauth watched his army to observe their abilities in this difficult situation. Seeing one of his warriors recoil from an attack by a dozen insects, Ergrauth stomped over and killed the Del’Unday himself. “I will not have cowardice in my army,” he announced as he watched his men fight. But his army couldn’t possibly hold up against the numbers of its enemies.
He then looked up and saw what he was waiting for. Two dragons were diving toward them.
Covered in blue and white scales, the lead dragon headed in from the back of the battle. Grazing the air just above the soldiers, it opened its mouth and sprayed a fan of deadly frost into the air, killing thousands of the insects who then rained down to the ground.
The second dragon approached at a higher level and sent a series of lightning bolts showering from his mouth as though heat-lightning had occurred without the clouds. Again, thousands of insects were instantly killed and fell to the earth.
The tide of the battle quickly changed to Ergrauth’s advantage as the dragons continued to destroy legions of insects with every attack.
Free from defending against the insects, Thorik hobbled himself around to ensure his friends were alive. “He has dragons in his army? I thought they belonged to Rummon.”
Santorray shoveled handfuls of dead insects away to free the others as well. “It would appear that he has freed Rummon’s children, the Winds of Conquest.”
“Those dragons are the Winds of Conquest?”
“Yes.” Santorray pulled Bryus up to his feet.
Grewen stood up from his hunched over position and stretched his back. Standing about the same height as Ergrauth, he was far less threatening. “Trewek’s elders must be informed.”
“It won’t help them. Nothing shy of a demon can stop them,” the Blothrud said.
Thorik thought about it for a moment. “I have Rummon. Therefore I am the only one who can stop them.”
Santorray half-scoffed at the idea. “Don’t even think about taking that weapon out. Besides, Rummon in the flesh would still have his hands full to take on both of his children at the same time. His presence inside that spear has no chance, brave Sec.”
“Then Grewen is correct. We must at least notify the Trewek elders of the pending invasion.”
“We won’t have that opportunity,” Santorray growled.
Thorik looked down the path at the unguarded rock towers, which they had entered. “And why is that? We can run back to the Chuttle
Range before we are spotted.”
Heavy footsteps approached the travelers from behind Thorik. Turning, the Num gazed upon the Mognin-sized Blothrud demon, Ergrauth, only twenty-some yards from him.
The demon stopped and inspected the small band of injured travelers. One of his eyebrows raised at the sight before him. “Santorray? Is it possible?”
Santorray growled at the demon. “More than possible, father.”
“Father?” Thorik was louder than he had hoped.
“You are returning to my valley?” Ergrauth asked.
“It would appear so.”
“It has taken you many years to finally return and stand at my side. Your timing is of interest as I move to destroy the land you have called home for so long.”
“You are walking into a Bakalor’s trap. He is using you to launch this war and sacrifice your troops to do his bidding. He plans to take over the land once you are finished.”
Ergrauth grinned on one side of his mouth. “I fully understand what he plans on doing. But I haven’t given him all the facts. I will be ready when he comes to the surface. I will be victorious in the end. And with you at my side, I have no doubts of our easy victory.”
Blood dripped from the insect cuts across Santorray’s body as he stood strong and defiant. “I am not here to stand at your side.”
“You have been, and always will be, an Ergrauthian Elite. You have no choice but to fight for me.”
“Living on the terrain you plan to destroy for so many years, my destiny is now chosen by myself, not others, and especially not by you.”
As the battle raged on behind him, with victory nearly at hand by the Del’Unday, Ergrauth stood motionless for a moment. “You have learned nothing,” he growled in disapproval. “You’re just as disobedient now as you ever were.”
Santorray spit on the ground between them. “I will not blindly follow anyone, including you.”
The demon’s lips quivered with anger. “I would kill you here and now, but you would not suffer sufficiently for this crime against me. Instead, you shall suffer for all eternity inside of my city.”
“You may wish it, but I will not go. You will have to attempt to kill me where I stand.”
“Attempt? You are nothing to me. I made you. I can destroy you.”
“You can try.” Santorray crossed his sabers onto his chest and pierced the sharp ends into his skin before slowly dragging them down, forming a bloody X on his front. He was ready for war.
Ergrauth was not accustomed to being treated in such a way. The discontent toward him fueled his emotions and heated his body with fresh blood. “You challenge me?” he yelled, staring at the cuts his son had just given himself. “No one challenges Ergrauth!”
Stepping out, the massive demon violently rushed toward the travelers to slay his son. His eyes narrowed and his teeth seemed to grow larger as his skin tightened and pulled back from his mouth. Using his claws, he ripped into his own biceps to signal his willingness to forgo pain to win his battle.
Santorray also charged forward as blood dripped from his chest and spotted the dirt road. With sabers tightly gripped, he howled the war cry of the Elites, which he once led.
His father growled at the sound that he himself had taught his son in his youth, when he had believed that his son would be his finest warrior. Instead he turned out to be his greatest disappointment.
Ergrauth’s thoughts betrayed him by taking his mind off the task at hand. The two collided, and he had underestimated the skill of his son.
Santorray leaped up and swirled in the air, slicing his sabers deep into the demon’s arm and torso before landing firmly on the road, ready for his next attack.
Yelling from the unexpected pain, his father slid to a halt, just before stomping upon the Nums. A dust cloud of sand covered the travelers as Grewen pulled Avanda and Bryus to a safer location. Brimmelle and Thorik followed Grewen, as the demon turned around toward his son.
Santorray didn’t provide his father with any time to realize his son’s abilities. He again leaped forward, into the air, thrusting his muscular shoulder and sharp blades into his father’s stomach. His weight and speed knocked Ergrauth off of his feet and down into the dirt with a sound that rocked the canyon’s walls.
“Not only am I still an Elite, but I am now much more!” Santorray used his fists to hammer a solid blow to his father’s chest, cracking a few ribs.
However, Ergrauth’s long mighty arm sprang upward, tossing Santorray a dozen yards away from him, giving him some time to recoup. Clutching his chest in pain, the demon unveiled to Santorray that he actually could be injured.
“You can cut me all you want, boy. But you will never be able to defeat me.” Ergrauth kept a keen eye on him as he stood back up. “You know it in your head that you can’t win. And as long as I’m in there, you will always lose.”
Santorray fought to ignore his father’s words. “Go back to your city and give up this war, or I shall be forced to slay you.”
Ergrauth coughed out a painful laugh before standing up straight and tall with his shoulders back. “Let me see what my little boy has learned.”
Santorray hated his father calling him boy. The degrading tone his father always used had festered into his dreams and nightmares. “More than you think.” He then raced back toward his father with his sabers spinning in his palms.
The demon stood like a statue as he watched his son charge at him. Raising his arms straight out to his side, he invited his son to end this once and for all.
Blood sprayed from Santorray’s self-inflicted cuts on his chest as he raised his weapons to impale his father. Again, jumping at the last moment, he flew through the air at his target. Ergrauth’s chest had no protection. He was vulnerable.
With lightning fast reflexes, Ergrauth violently swiped one of his enormous arms forward, crushing Santorray’s side and sending him straight into the ground. The attack had come out of nowhere, a blow that would have easily killed a Num and most likely disabled the Blothrud.
Momentarily clutching his own chest from the pain of the prior attack, Ergrauth quickly grabbed the blades along his son’s back and lifted Santorray up in the air before his son could recover. This was an insult more than a tactic, for parents would pick up their children in this manner when they misbehaved.
The demon then began to run back toward his army before launching Santorray into the side of one of the military catapults. The wooden weapon shattered upon the impact as splinters and dust shot in every direction.
Stepping over and brushing away the dust with his arms, Ergrauth surveyed the damage to his son. Expecting to see a lifeless body, he was astonished to find a large wooden beam from the catapult come flying out at him, striking him in his face.
Ergrauth crumbled backward from the impact which lacerated his face and broke several of his teeth. He couldn’t recall the last time he had tasted blood from his own wound.
Leaping from the catapult, Santorray landed a solid kick to the demon’s stomach, followed by a two-handed strike on the back of the demon’s neck after Ergrauth bent over from the first attack. The two quick assaults knocked the demon to his knees.
Santorray quickly gathered his strength and lifted the demon up by his back blades. His arms and legs shook from the weight as he attempted to run with him in tow, before tossing him head first into a wagon of supplies.
The wagon burst into pieces as the wheels popped off and the supplies tumbled out. There was a moment of silence as Santorray waited for his father to leap back out, but instead, Ergrauth slowly stood back up from the far side of the wagon and started to laugh.
“You still are an Elite. And you have retained everything I have taught you. I’m impressed.”
Santorray stood up straight, still waiting for an attack.
The demon smirked. “You are a valuable asset to me. So, I will ask you one last time to join me.”
There was no hesitation. “I will not.”
“Under
stood. Nor would I give up what I believe in. But we are at an impasse. And my army will stop at nothing to be victorious.”
From his right, Santorray caught the glimpse of several warriors charging him. Pulling out his sabers again, he began to fight them off. He disabled one, and then another would take their place. He would slay two more and then three would move in. He simply could not fight the entire Del’Unday Army.
Ergrauth laughed as he watched his son sidestep his way back to his companions as his men continued to test his skills. Even with the loss of his men, Santorray was slowly being beaten down with blades and blunt weapons.
By the time Santorray had backed up all the way to the other travelers, he was a bloody mess. It was amazing that he could still stand, let alone fight. It was at this time that the fight stopped and the soldiers backed off, giving way to Ergrauth’s approach.
Santorray stood wobbly on his legs as he held out his sabers toward his father. “This is what you call honor?”
The demon laughed. “This is what I call victory. Winning is what matters, not how you do it. Winners write the history to their own favor. No one remembers the tales of those who lost.”
Santorray spit on his father’s foot in defiance. “You are what’s wrong with this world. I’ve known Fesh that I respect more than you.”
The phrase struck a nerve, as Santorray knew it would, but the Blothrud was too injured to stop the demon’s attack as he pounded both of his fists into the side of his son. Santorray crumbled and went tumbling into the pile of insects, which had been killed earlier by the travelers.
Santorray was definitely hurt as he struggled to shake off the powerful blow to his side. Clearing the pain from his brain he could tell his father was approaching. The thunderous footfalls closed in on him, but he hadn’t cleared his vision yet.
Knowing his back was exposed, Santorray rolled to his side and grabbed whatever he could find to use as a shield until he was able to stand. The first object he grabbed was a large book, which he held up to stop the demon’s blow.
“Vesik!” Bryus yelled in horror. His desire to protect the book of magic far outweighed his interest in preserving his own life. Running toward the fight, he screamed for them to stop.
But it was too late, Ergrauth’s mighty fist came crashing down onto the book, forcing it into Santorray’s chest and knocking the wind out of him.
Thorik frantically called to the Alchemist. “Bryus! It’s not worth your life.”
But he was wrong. Bryus felt it was worth much more than his or anyone else’s life. Ancient magic was history, while each person was only a blink of time. He would do anything to save Vesik. Besides, he believed he needed the book to save his wife and daughter.
The demon stomped a heavy foot onto his son’s chest. “You will never defeat me as long as you believe you can’t.”
Bryus arrived in time to see the book pinned between the demon’s foot and the Blothrud’s chest. Stabbing his broken wooden arm into Ergrauth’s other leg, he quickly cast a spell while the demon was taken by surprise.
The spell was intended to liquefy the demon’s leg, but due to a failed arm replacement as well as the red spice still on his wooden arm, it backfired. Instead, moisture from the demon’s leg was pulled toward Bryus’ wooden appendage, causing it to spring roots into and around the demon’s leg. The Alchemist was now attached to Ergrauth.
Removing his foot from Santorray’s chest, Ergrauth began kicking his leg in order to knock the Alchemist off, but the roots continued to expand and tighten their hold.
Thorik and Avanda came running to his defense.
“No!” Bryus yelled to Avanda. “Save Vesik!” he pleaded to his young apprentice. “Use it to save my family!”
Watching the Alchemist flail around on the side of the demon’s leg, she knew any magic she attempted could easily hurt her teacher. Accepting his request, she stopped at Santorray and Vesik.
Thorik refused to change course. Holding his hunting daggers out in front of him, he charged at the demon in an effort to save Bryus.
Santorray tossed the book off of his chest and rolled to his hands and knees, clutching his side in pain. But his father’s attacks would not be enough to stop him.
Avanda grabbed Vesik and helped the Blothrud to his feet, just in time to see Ergrauth reach down and snap Bryus’ arm from his thick demon leg.
“Is this what you fight for now?” the demon asked harshly to his son. Holding the battered Alchemist in his huge hand like a rag-doll, he spiked Bryus back and forth between his hands. “This is what you’re fighting for instead of your own people?”
“This is between you and I,” Santorray told his father. “Leave him be.”
“What interests you about these lesser beings?” Ergrauth looked at Bryus’ limp body in his palm. “They are so weak.” To display his thoughts he firmly held Bryus in one hand and pulled on his arm with his other. Muscles and flesh stretched and ripped as the demon snapped off the man’s arm. The bone of the limb was exposed as blood ran down the flesh that had been torn off with it. Holding the arm out toward Santorray to view, he eventually flung it at his son, hitting the lesser demon in the chest before it fell to the ground.
Somehow Bryus remained conscious as he screamed in pain, while his left eye jerked from his eye socket due to the demon’s abuse. Falling to the ground, it was inadvertently stepped on and crushed.
Looking at the man flailing about in his hands, the demon grabbed him tight again and ripped his right leg from his pelvis, and then followed it with removing his left leg. Each limb hit Santorray after being torn from the human, in an attempt to get the lesser demon to realize how frail his companion was. Tossing the head and torso of Bryus violently at Santorray, he shouted, “They are weak. We are the dominant species!”
The Alchemist was unrecognizable as the mound of body parts splattered on the desert floor. The sight caused Brimmelle to jump and fall back in fear of the demon’s strength, while Thorik finished his charge toward the demon with even greater fervor. They had lost a companion who, in spite of what he had done, was still a part of their extended family.
“No!” Avanda screamed as she attempted to race forward to save her mentor, Bryus. She simply couldn’t accept that his journey was over. In addition, her desire to learn new magic had just been crushed by the hands of the demon. Somehow she had assumed that Bryus’ powers could protect them from anything. She turned to charge at Ergrauth and cast whatever spells she could think of.
Before doing so, she heard a soft cough from the mound of flesh and body parts.
To her surprise, Bryus had somehow remained conscious, at least for a short time. She had to assume he retained enough magic to keep him alive after being ripped apart limb by limb.
“Avanda,” he sputtered as he saw her approach. “Perform the summon swap spell. Quickly, I haven’t much time left.”
“What?”
“Place my hair on one side, the talon from my belt on the other.” He struggled not to fade away.
“Why?”
“Let me see my family one last time.”
“Then who will appear here? Who will you swap with?” Grabbing her components, she began to cry as she waited for him to have enough strength to answer her.
“Our family pet. Take care of her.”
“We will be long gone by the time the spell is completed.”
Coughing and spitting out blood, his words were slurred and difficult to hear. “Keep my rags with you. She will follow my scent to you.”
Avanda did as she was told and began the spell, wiping the tears from her face to ensure they didn’t fall on the components and corrupt the magic.
“Thank you,” he said softly, “…for letting me into your family.” Then Bryus fell unconscious.
Meanwhile, Ergrauth had already selected his next victim, Thorik. As the Num had raced forward to stab him with his hunting daggers, the demon simply leaned down and scooped him up. Thorik never had a chance
. He was now being squeezed by the enormous hand of the land demon, and would end up as a pile of limbs on top of the late Bryus.
This time Santorray yelled out. “STOP!” The words echoed against the valley walls causing everyone to pay attention.
Ergrauth was intrigued at his son’s stance against the killing of the Num. “You really care about these little creatures, don’t you?”
Santorray could see that Thorik was in pain from the pressure around him. To continue this fight would only cause the death of all of his companions. “Release him.”
With a shallow laugh he did nothing of the sort. “Why? What purpose could this Num have?”
“I cannot see his fate any more than you.” Santorray then gave off a deep growl as he planned his next statement. “But I am willing to succumb to your punishment if you let my fellow travelers live.”
“Santorray, save yourself and the rest!” Thorik shouted.
Ergrauth shook his head with disappointment at his son. “You have become weak, boy. Never would I expect to see the day when an Ergrauthian Elite would forgo his freedom to save a Fesh. You, my son, have been compromised.”
Santorray stood firm as the emotional impact played with his mind. “Do you accept my offer?”
By this point, the Del’Unday army had chased the Guardians away and had begun filing into rank behind their leader. Keeping their eyes forward, they never looked directly at the demon, for fear of swift repercussions.
Tossing Thorik down in front of Santorray, the demon then spit on the dirt near his son’s feet. “Santorray, you could have had the world. Instead you choose eternal pain. You’re a fool.”
“General!” Ergrauth ordered. “Take these traitors and have them absorbed into my city.”
Nearly fifty soldiers stepped forward to surround the travelers. “Drop your weapons,” the General ordered Santorray and his friends.
“No,” Ergrauth corrected. “Let them keep them. If there is any of my blood left in my son, allow him a chance to die fighting for his life. Just ensure you have enough guards to make his life end quickly should he chose to give up his Fesh ways and be a Blothrud once more.”
The general nodded. His troops then began to lead the travelers east through the mountain pass.
Chapter 43
Death March