"Why do they keep fighting, even as their bodies crumble?"
Mesterjof – Orc Chieftain
Lodtrack and Leonor hurried through the corridors as fast as they could, disregarding Lodtrack's wounds. What Jill had given him had restored his energy, but Leonor knew the effects of the Anages Stein were temporary, and within three or six hours, it would cease to take effect. At least, it would keep him out of mortal danger.
Even though Lodtrack wanted to return to the fight alongside his comrades, he knew that his priority was to keep Leonor safe. They had to find a way to escape.
Earlier, he had noticed how the soldiers had positioned themselves at the castle's entrances and exits; it seemed they knew it inside and out. 'A traitor?' Lodtrack thought as he navigated the hallways. If that were the case, there would be only one way to leave without being seen.
"Is it so important that they don't see us?" Leonor asked in a whisper. "Death is all over the castle."
"If they're doing what I think, it means they don't want survivors. And if that thing is with the invaders. I don't even want to imagine what the one controlling it is capable of," Lodtrack stopped abruptly and looked back, "indeed, we might lose this time. That's why it's important to keep you safe."
They maintained silence as they continued forward. Leonor kept his eyes on the ground, being careful not to make too much noise while walking, as the castle was likely still teeming with enemies; although the constant rumbling of the place should cover their presence.
They encountered a couple of enemy soldiers as they passed by the dining room, but Lodtrack had little difficulty incapacitating them, avoiding killing them. He also took one of their swords.
At one point, they saw allied soldiers; Leonor tried to get their attention, but Lodtrack covered him mouth, only to watch as the soldiers were burned alive by an elemental mage. Leonor stifled a scream of terror; Lodtrack gritted his teeth in anger as the mage laughed alongside other soldiers. He pounced on them, and before they realized it, he took them all down, ensuring they wouldn't rise again.
They continued forward until they passed through an area Leonor didn't recognize, despite having traversed the castle countless times.
"Where exactly are we heading?" he asked as they crossed a door leading to a strange winding corridor with another door at the end.
"There's a secret entrance beneath your tower," Lodtrack replied, though Leonor's expression only showed she was even more lost, "I know this isn't the usual way, but to get to the tower where you live, we have to pass through the throne room. And, knowing the contingency plan for these occasions, the room must either be full of traps or have turned into a battlefield."
"So, this is an alternative route?" Lodtrack nodded as he turned the doorknob. Upon entering, they heard the echo of a blow.
The door led to a drawbridge corridor supported by ropes just above the throne room, imperceptible unless you wanted to study the ceiling carefully. Although they trusted that no one would want to see that terrible ceiling of disordered wooden boards.
Leonor looked over the edge, and below, she saw her father kneeling in front of Draco, who seemed to be saying something, although he couldn't hear it. Leonor's blood boiled. What was a noble doing kneeling like that in front of a commoner? He tried to shout at them, but Lodtrack stopped him and forced him to move through the corridor until they were out of the room.
The door rumbled, and everyone froze. They waited a few seconds, and the door rumbled again.
"Run!" Lodtrack shouted, but was interrupted by a gigantic explosion that destroyed the door and knocked everyone in the place to the ground.
Draco got up, coughing and surveying his surroundings. Most of the traps had become unusable due to smoke and debris; Some even went on a rampage and took several soldiers. Fender was lying on the ground trying to get up; he didn't seem injured, which reassured Draco until he saw a man lying next to him. Federic was unconscious with a bloody head, and his legs were buried under a large piece of stone.
Soldiers tried to regain their sense of direction and help their injured comrades; at least two-thirds of them were dead, and many more were wounded. Draco estimated that about 20 soldiers and mages remained to fight.
The guard looked at what was left of the entrance, searching for his enemies in the smoke that was starting to dissipate; although he could hear their steps, he felt them approaching. Quickly, the soldiers still standing began to take combat positions, attempting the formation they had practiced, although it would be of little use at the moment. A couple of soldiers helped Lord Fender get up and return to his throne; he kept his hands on a pendant and squeezed it as if his life depended on it.
A sorcerer's cry alerted Draco, and he looked back at the entrance; his body instinctively recoiled at the sight of many soldiers approaching in formation, making room for a dozen hooded figures to stand in front of them. Silo was at their side, disoriented and crouched down.
"But what? What does this mean, Silo?" Draco asked furiously. Silo lifted his head, seeming to want to say something, but he continued to tremble and hesitate until the hooded figure in the center raised his hand, ordering him to be silent.
"There's no need to get upset, Lord Guard," said one of the hooded figures with a feminine voice, stepping forward along with the one next to her, gently revealing their faces. "Dirty sewer rat."
Draco examined Verónica's face, which had a strange smile filled with anger and hatred; he observed the other hooded figure who had approached, seeing an elderly face full of wrinkles. Long grayish hair. Draco quickly recognized him.
"Alwarmu! You should be dead," Draco was paralyzed, not believing what he saw. He tightly gripped the handle of his spear and assumed a combat stance. "I killed you myself!"
Alwarmu smiled. "Easy there, don't draw your weapon just yet. Wouldn't you like to talk to an old acquaintance? Honestly, I didn't think you'd recognize me. After all, to you, we were just heretics to be squashed like cockroaches."
"How you still...?"
"How I'm still alive? Well, when you pierced me with that lovely spear, I was on the verge of leaving this existential plane. I couldn't see or feel anything, or so I thought, until I heard the crying of a young woman, a poor creature who wouldn't let me die. Her tears miraculously brought me back to life with a single purpose," the old man raised his hands and looked up as if speaking directly to a deity, then lowered them and pointed to Verónica by his side. "Remember what we were attempting in that ritual?"
"Impossible, I destroyed the place, any trace of the summoning was..." Draco's eyes widened, feeling a strange pressure in his chest that made it difficult to breathe. Alwarmu turned and placed his hand on Verónica's shoulder.
"The result was satisfactory. This woman turned out to be a prodigy, an unmatched sorceress with unimaginable power. Somehow, she completed the ritual and attracted the attention of an ancient and powerful being who saved our lives. In return, we only had to do him a favor, and he would help us with our revenge," the ground began to rumble, the soldiers twisted in discomfort as they heard something giant approaching slowly. Verónica stepped forward and made a gesture with her hand, saying:
"As a demonstration of his power and generosity, to help us fulfill his mission and our revenge, he gave us a wonderful gift."
The room fell silent for a moment; even the tremors stopped until Verónica moved her hand to the side, and suddenly one of the side walls collapsed. From it, a young apprentice shot out and fell beside Draco. Jill tried to get up, but her body didn't respond; she could barely lift her head.
"Master," she said with a bruised and bloody face, "please, run," she collapsed on the floor, unable to move.
Draco looked from where his apprentice had been shot out, only to see a figure he thought he had already forgotten: empty, blood-red eyes, fangs capable of crushing bones effortlessly, even able to pierce metal; dark violet skin and distinctive horns like sharp roots.
"An Overfall demon, but this one is too big," Draco said, watching the imposing demon. At that moment, he noticed that between its claws, it held a dying Chub by the head.
"You're right, he's unique among his kind, one of the strongest," said Alwarmu. "It seems he got himself a nice little toy, don't you think, dear?"
Verónica smiled playfully, approached the demon, and murmured two words that Draco understood clearly: "kill him."
The demon lifted him off the ground, showing him to his enemies; the young apprentice slightly opened his eyes, letting a few last tears of absolute helplessness fall. Before Draco could do anything, the demon closed its fist, and the apprentice's head was crushed.
The soldiers were paralyzed by this; Draco seemed disturbed. A sorcerer let out a scream of terror at the scene, a feeling that spread through everyone present. Even the enemies were uncomfortable; panic dominated the soldiers who tried to escape or lay on the ground crying. This was precisely what Alwarmu and Verónica sought.
Lodtrack, who observed everything, clenched his fists. His face transformed into one of absolute hatred, and Leonor fell to his knees, looking away, trying to contain the nausea. As a noble, he always tried to distance himself from these situations, and yet, this was the second time he had seen so much death and destruction.
He thought Lodtrack would be accustomed to it, but every time they saw someone dead, whether an enemy or an ally, he maintained an expression of repulsion and avoided those situations at all costs.
Draco put on his helmet, wielded "Vindicta" and his shield. He raised his spear, which shone with a golden light. Along with his expression, he showed an imposing and intimidating image. All the enemy soldiers took a step back.
"Do you know what this is?" he said, approaching his weapon; the demon instinctively recoiled. Verónica and Alwarmu were shocked to see how the demon began to be scared. "It's clear that he knows. After all, these types of weapons were what ended his kind in this world; ancestral gold, the only one capable of piercing a demon's skin, at least easily from what I see," Draco pointed to the demon's arms and torso, which were full of sword marks.
Verónica's expression changed completely as she saw the wounds; there were no longer signs of the confidence and unwarranted boldness she had shown before.
"Who did this to you?" she said, annoyed. She hadn't even noticed the wounds, as they were quite superficial, but it meant that the demon could be harmed.
Draco knelt beside Jill and gave her an Anages stein; the apprentice quickly regained her energy and managed to get up. Draco looked at her curiously, and Jill instinctively knew he was asking.
"It wasn't us, Lodtrack wounded him before we arrived," she said, lowering her head. "It's truly incredible." Verónica listened to what they were saying, wondering one thing: 'Who the hell is Lodtrack?'
She remembered the warrior who fought against the demon and protected Leonor; she had stopped watching them because they seemed insignificant, but it seems she had become overconfident. Verónica looked at the demon and asked in unison with Draco:
"Where is he?" Jill didn't respond, and the demon shrugged.
Lodtrack shivered from above, indicating to Leonor that they should leave before they realized they were there. He reassured him, saying that Draco would take care of the demon.
"How can you be so sure? He got a colossal beating to you," Leonor refuted him. "And Chub..."
"Unlike me, Draco is well-equipped, and you should know that demons are considered an extinct race because he killed them all; his nickname is there for a reason," he responded gently.
"Still..." Leonor's eyes focused again on Chub's body. Lodtrack put his hand on his friend's shoulder and led him to the door.