Legacy of the Defender (The Defender Series Book 1)

by Jacob Spadt

  The density of the mountains made navigating any one direction difficult. The sound became more distinct and was a mix of many voices, possibly roars, and occasionally explosions of varying degrees. Our camp was in the other direction and was very far away. Therefore, it had to be something else. The large daemon that grabbed me must have been close to its goal. I felt like was heading towards some unfolding event. The thought of joining a battle excited me, and my energy levels climbed even though my stomach talked to me. Payback sounded good right about now.

  The noise grew. It was definitely a battle. Sounds echoed off the walls of this small box end canyon. A way out presented itself, but it would take a bit of dexterous leaping to scale the wall. It was a steep cliff, nearly sheer from this angle. I maneuvered closer to the bottom and leapt. The timing was easy enough, allowing me to grab a few times as I backslid before my hands found places to hold. Temperatures dropped, and I did not even realize my skin tore from grabbing the cliff’s stony face. After leaving a few bloody handprints on the rock face, my healing engaged on its own. Leaping again successfully, I grabbed my mark and this time my grip held. I repeated this a few more times and was able to crawl over the top ledge. Finally, the top was mine.

  A small plateau greeted me with a smooth top that ran for quite a ways, leading into shadows as the sun dipped down. In the waning light, my vision still worked a bit. Normally I would be limited to moonlight or starlight. I took advantage while it lasted and increased my pace. My feet found a bit of a trail, which made traveling significantly easier. The path came to a natural “T” and the sound was coming from the left. My curiosity arose and I wanted to kill some daemons badly.

  The faint scent of blood caught my nose. I was heading the right direction for sure. A chorus of voices now bounced around the walls and increased with each step. The hill came to a bend on the left then ran for a few yards back to the right. I had to climb about twenty feet. I chose to climb the last section. As I approached the top, the sound intensified to a fever pitch.

  The mystery unfolded when I reached the top. My eyes beheld an unexpected sight. A city under siege. Fires erupted with objects and beams of energy exploding into a magic barrier, tearing at it with no effect. I stood transfixed for several moments, soaking it all in. Every blast lit the sky. Stones disintegrated as they collided with nothing, failing to impact the wall or the city beyond. Even at this distance, I could see movement on the walls and a host of daemons numbering beyond comprehension. If I had to guess by the sea of daemons, it had to be in the billions. A shudder ran through every fiber of my being. Never had I beheld anything so preposterously overwhelming. It was impossible. A tear ran down my face.

  The city of Heaven lay before me.

  XI

  Siege

  My jaw dropped.

  The view was magnificent. It was a daemon horde that defied numbers, impressive in a frightening way. The masses spread over hundreds of miles. Line of sight allowed me to see to the horizon. The armies of hell gathered at the walls of Heaven. I would not have believed what I was seeing if it had not been for the flashes of magic and siege weapons pounding away. Gigantic golden walls several miles high with towers and other buildings behind them extended high into the sky. Smoke obscured parts of the city. Many of the towers looked to be miles high, disappearing into the clouds. Giant pits from missile attacks riddled the walls. Two millennia of hellish assault had not been kind to them.

  The scene felt surreal. Master’s description fell utterly short.

  I could tell there were magic protections on the walls. When a projectile struck, a shimmer appeared like a rainbow effect of colors that scintillated with each impact. The striking projectile disintegrated, and an incredible sound shot across the field like an echoing explosion. Even at my great distance, it pounded in my ears. Those projectiles had to travel at least twenty miles.

  There were no angels outside the shield. An orange glow would build for several moments, and then release from different points on the wall and from towers. They did incredible damage to the daemons and the mechanisms on the battlefield. The orange beam made groups of daemons disappear in swaths. There were so many of them it did not matter. More simply moved up or attended to the devices when the current ones died. Any siege weapons hit shattered and burned instantly. Sometimes they glanced off, merely disabling them.

  Some of the daemons’ energy weapons appeared arcane in nature. There were no wheels attached, and they did not pivot or point in different directions from what I could tell. They stood fixed as if hard mounted to the ground. There appeared to be supports holding them up on three to five sides, depending on the point of view. A shimmer lit up around them as if they pulled energy out of the air before firing.

  The purpose of these giant pieces of artillery unfolded before me.

  There was a line behind them of smaller daemons that I thought at first were there to operate the weapons. I could not see the ones close to the walls very well, but the closest one to me was about a mile out. The line of daemons moved and some sort of apparatus on the weapon rotated down and picked up a daemon. It did not even look mechanical in nature, yet it articulated down and grabbed a minion. There was a dim flash of light. The air around it shimmered, and the daemon turned into a mass of goo and defied gravity; it flowed on its own up into the main body of the weapon.

  It fired a bolt of energy almost black in color. This streaked towards Heaven and struck the shield in brilliant showers of color. The impact was deafening amidst the rainbow effect lighting up the sky.

  I recognized other weapons, some made from a combination of wood and dark metal. The trebuchet weapons were hundreds of feet tall and required thousands of daemons to operate. Large rocks manned were loaded onto the weapon very slowly. The arduous process was over in moments when the massive boulders hit their target miles away. There were thousands of these trebuchets all firing intermittently and some at the same time. The supply train for these monstrous machines trailed back towards me but disappeared below the cliff line below my visibility.

  They had been cutting down the mountain.

  The ringing of metal came from instruments breaking stone. I figured there were mines or quarries at the base of foothills below me. That explained the unending supply of stone to these weapons.

  I saw a few large catapults too, but due to the short range, they were targeted by the wall defenses making them less effective. Several weapons burned in the moments I watched.

  New siege engines made their way up from the back line to replace the ones lost which told me there had to be some sort of assembly plant nearby. As I watched, it gave me the feeling that every day the daemon host gained a little bit of ground, even if it was such a small percentage. Over time, that percentage would matter. Production like that had to be effective by now and it certainly explained why I saw no trees anywhere near the army or heaven for that matter. That meant they brought materials from somewhere else and put together here. Those supplied came from far away.

  My thoughts began to run rampant. Was there something I could do to disrupt the flow of weapons? Even on a good day, my skills could not face an army. To engage even a few hundred with the horde so close was suicide. There were billions. Yet the siege engines seemed to cause all the damage to the walls and the shields. It might make some sort of difference. I decided to move closer and take a better look. Learning everything about this army and its strengths and weaknesses would be my best offense. Perhaps something of value would avail itself.

  Following the ridgeline was easy. I was still hundreds of feet up and so far back behind the enemy’s position that it took me quite a while locate my target. Using my cloak would make the time stretch and without a focus point, it would take longer too. I had to move slowly and crawl on all fours at times to avoid some daemons on patrol.

  It occurred to me that nothing would come near this area. Wildlife and game had likely consumed. Even the insects were gone with food sources long been dep
leted. The ground was likely poisoned. Even the air was barely breathable.

  Teacher taught me they used breeding to maintain the high numbers of troops. Individual fighters did not likely live very long. Were they eating each other in some kind of ritualistic sacrifice? I was not sure. That was disgusting to think about on both accounts. The horde lacked food and had too many mouths. However, in the end, they grew their own food…by eating each other.

  Chaos.

  I continued across the top of the ridgeline, moving slowly to not attract the attention of any sort. My familiarity with the ridge grew. I had to double back several times to work my way down and several times had to stand perfectly still so wandering daemons passing within an arm’s reach of me without notice. I killed them quick, striking from behind with speed. Since my weapons tended to kill on the first shot, there was not much noise, simply bodies.

  Then I found what I was looking for. From a good distance, one of the big flyers approached my location with something large in its grasp. It did not take a genius to see it was a tree. I lost track of it below the ridgeline and knew there had to be something down there worth spying so crept forward to the edge.

  A bush caught my eye with some berries on it, so I scavenged the little morsels before continuing. I felt refreshed even from so few nutrients and was thankful the daemons had missed them for one reason or another. They might not even eat berries. Soon the aftertaste left a tainted flavor in my mouth, and my happiness was gone. Daemons tainted what little food grew here. It affected the plant life which mutated.

  Being invisible allowed me to walk right up to the edge and looked down. Below me, was a huge workshop buzzed with activity. It had to have been the main building. Due to my angle, seeing inside was impossible, but the flow of workers going in and out of it was a constant stream. There were many smaller covered buildings scattered around the main one. It surprised me they would care about the sun or the weather for that matter. The horde showed no kindness nor did it have a reputation for it. An assortment of smaller stations had workers operating them, and it appeared these were also small fabrication stations. Around the assembly area, there were catapults in different stages of assembly. Several forges used the branches from the trees. They would burn hot but not as good as coal. Sap would add to the heat. It would take more than that to get a good burn to forge metal.

  The large flyer dropped the tree, and immediately creatures that seemed humanoid set upon it. I did not see any slave drivers forcing them to work under the crack of a whip.

  That is when I noticed it. They had features that were not human. This group all had huge clawed hands with razor sharp talons, and they shaved the tree of its branches in moments and removed the bark from it equally fast. The branches got drug over and thrown on a fire under some covered section and the bark was gathered. There was a war machine production going on. The whole process amazed me. The process was efficient. The workers cranked the work out rapidly. A brand new catapult rolled off the production line right in front of me. The need to move closer arose to see what else was here. Over the edge, there was a gigantic cave carved back into the mountains roots. I looked left, right, and shuddered, and saw there were a few of these factories right here over the span of what I guess to be about two to three thousand feet.

  If I could take out the factory somehow, many of the creatures would die and production slowed, but also killing a bunch of hybrids would be a bonus. It obviously took specialists to create the materials so taking them away would be a blow to their process. It was the best plan I could muster on short notice. My thoughts cranked around in my head.

  An idea hit me.

  I turned and looked to the mountain behind me and saw many loose stones and boulders at the base of a cliff. Farther up, the granite face showed many cracks in it, probably due to the quarrying of its stone. There must have also been a vein of some sort of metallic ore for all the important parts needed a forge for the braces and supports. The spot was ideal for an avalanche, but in order to do it, I would need something to break up the cliff face several thousand feet above me. My swords would take too long and the noise would draw too much attention. It was also taking too long. I needed something that would cause an explosion. It was then the realization of my task hit me.

  One of those energy weapons pointed towards the cliff could possibly do it. How to accomplish that was still a mystery. My scent needed masking in order for me to go examine one and I would have to see how to get it to turn when firing. In addition, when the firing process initiated I hoped there was nothing to stop it. Next, there was the task of harvesting something from a daemon in order to disguise my scent.

  A plan formed in my head.

  Finding prey was easy. There was a lot to choose from, so I waited until another daemon wandered close, broke its neck, and cut it open. It did not take too much; the thing stunk so badly, my confidence was enough. I rubbed the ichor on then leapt off the cliff. After dropping like a rock for several hundred feet, my descent slowed at will. My feet touched down right at the base of the cliff. I waited and watched. My cloak reeked. They did not even look my direction. The nearest of the energy weapons was about a mile. They had the range so they kept them farther out. Something told me there was a fragile aspect to them. I looked forward to examining them.

  Moments passed. My presence caused no alert to rise. It was time to move. My pace was a crawl, some steps larger than others were. It was slow and steady. I did my best to avoid any other daemons moving around for the first part. They had areas where they stood ready if the city were to break. Farther up, the flyers of all sizes staged. Large rock piles provided shelter from the energy blasts the city fired. Here the shock troops gathered in staging areas. Contact was heavy. Caution was imperative.

  My efforts found their reward when I found a line feeding the weapons energy. They moved slowly, which was perfect for my pace. At times, I swore they could sense me but they seemed to be in some sort of trance. Perhaps this was not a choice. I kept moving.

  The slow walking in the zombie daemon line had taken forever before I stood near the device. It looked organic in nature, as if it’s outer skin was tough but still flexed as it pulsed and was a dark brown, which is why I thought it to be wood. The firing portion of it looked like a cigar except there was a lot of surface texture to it. It was about six feet long and about as big around as a basketball. The weapon stood about fifteen feet high. Pulsating light, very dim, rolled over the surface and the skin rippled again as it reached down and picked up a smaller daemon standing in its line. I realized the arm was actually an appendage of a creature, and it was actually alive and not animated. Large feet grew into the earth to hold it upright; large bulbous places rested near the ground. It consumed the daemons it picked up.

  The creature sent out some sort of pulsating signal that must be overriding the daemon’s free will. Pressure came off it and the air around it felt heavy. Malnuras told me about synaptic control once. This creature used that. I realized the smaller daemons had no choice but to line up to die. It made me happy to know they ate themselves but sad that it barely made a dent if at all.

  I studied how the legs supported it. They appeared muscular and gripped the dirt. Thoughts cutting a leg off to make it topple in hopes that it would spin around and point backwards before it collapsed grew. The lack of guarantee that it would fall the way I wanted it to lead me to believe that all I would be doing was drawing attention to the area on a gamble. However, if a leg detached, it would topple. My goal was to grab the head and force it to turn right as it fired. That made the most sense. I studied the timing the consumption process took. It would work.

  I looked back at the cliff and gauged how high the weapon needed to aim to cause a slide. The creature grabbed a daemon, consumed it, and the process started. It took about to the count of seven from the point it absorbed the energy of the creature it ate and then released the energy. Memorizing the timing was crucial, and I sat and counted as the proc
ess went from beginning to end several times. The chain reaction formed from the essence of the daemon before it expunged the energy. I was nervous while thinking about how to do it. The time was now.

  Without further delay, I found the leg supporting it near me and looked for some sort of footing. If I did not get it turned in time, another attempt could take too long resulting in a confrontation at the most inopportune time. The second option did not bode well. I waited. It fired. I watched as it picked up another daemon and turned it to goo. The liquid found the breach and flowed inside the creature. I swung and chopped the target leg off and pushed it so it started to topple then jumped up. My legs wrapped around its trunk and my hands grabbed the top and tried to twist. Tendons popped and snapped as it resisted, twisting around towards the cliff. The stress of the top turning tore the outside skin material and ichor sprayed. The creature fell over and I turned the weapon far enough finally and held. It fired, cutting a swath in the cliff face with an explosion but nothing near what it did when it hit the walls around Heaven.

  Ichor oozed everywhere and I was covered head to toe, from the initial spray. My cloak still protected me and to my surprise, once the fluid covered me, it disappeared into my cloaking. I stood motionless for a moment to observe the effect before moving off slowly. There were not a lot of places to hide or be not in the way of the ensuing chaos that followed, but I managed to find a tent of animal skin to put my back against while watching the results of my effort. The cliff struck stood strong. Nothing happened and no stones fell to create the desired effect. My first attempt failed.

  No daemons came running.

  I decided to go for it and moved to the next weapon several hundred feet away. Some of the daemons moved towards where the one just destroyed lay. Some of them laughed, some argued, and a few fought. Chaos formed and for the first time, I thought there was a possibility for success.