Well, they don’t outnumber me by too much. Shale tried to justify the decision she knew she needed to make. A single member of the Scourge is worth far more than a Vallyr parasite.
She swiftly issued orders to the rest of the Scourge around her as she stopped in place. The rest of her companions gathered around her in the dark woods. Her vision effortlessly pierced the gloom, and she studied the men and women around her. She took a deep breath. The nighttime air was cold and moist under the shadows of the trees, and the scent of water and decaying things filled her nose. She let out a breath as she issued her orders.
We’ve got pursuers, she said flatly. The rest nodded their heads. They had heard the exchange between the Paramour and the Lurker that followed behind the Collective troops. We’re going to set up an ambush. By my estimation, they’re still a couple of hours from our location. I want us to spend that time productively and make sure we don’t lose any of our numbers. There aren’t enough of us to keep sacrificing ourselves to the damned Vallyr. Her voice was heavy with emotion.
Spread out and find me a spot where we can set up and wait. Her orders were crisp, and the Scourge hurried to comply. None of them would allow their lack of effort to be the reason that another one of their brothers or sisters died. They felt blood-thirsty anticipation for the suffering the Vallyr were about to experience at the hand of their Queen.
A short time later, her forces had found a suitable spot for the ambush. There was a small river the twisted its way through the trees. It was more of a stream but there were parts of the water that were surprisingly deep. Shale guessed that the deeper parts of the water were due to an underground system of caverns. The water was fast enough that it hadn’t frozen with the cold weather and Shale knew that the Scourge would have a better chance of maintaining their balance within the uneven terrain than their opponents.
Shale walked around and determined where she would position her forces. She had already received confirmation that the Vallyr were approaching from the same direction in a direct path toward them. She expected that they would cross the stream right where it bent and created a small meander. Where the flow turned, the soil had eroded until it formed a pool that went up to the average man’s waist. Shale was satisfied that even this minuscule barrier would help their chances. The rest of the water was only ankle-deep, and it was uncomfortable rather than an actual impediment.
Shale instructed her Mystics to spread out in an arc of fire facing the meander. The arc would keep the Mystics from targeting each other and would allow them to ambush the Vallyr from all sides. Hopefully, the confusion would slow the Collective response. She then instructed the Lurkers to use surrounding vegetation to create blinds just in front of the Mystics. It was more concealment than actual cover, and that was the point. Shale wanted the Scourge to launch an initial attack and then fall back to a secondary assault position. There were only a few Enticers, so Shale had them wait at the secondary assault position and provide healing wherever necessary. From there, the Lurkers would remain camouflaged and attack the pursuing Vallyr from behind. In the dark, they should be able to take plenty of Collective lives without fearing much reprisal.
Shale planned to be in the air overhead, camouflaged. She would be finding targets of opportunity, providing overwatch, and causing chaos wherever she could. She knew that her presence in the air and her ability to coordinate the ambush would the best use of her skills. Once she had made her preparations, she merely had to wait.
That’s the funny thing about war, she realized. It’s periods of frenetic, crazed activity broken up by periods of absolute boredom.
Boredom was the actual killer, she knew. Slate had frequently told her that “complacency kills.” The longer the Scourge waited, the duller they got. No one could sit idle for long without their attention waning and their reflexes slowing. Still, her warriors had the advantage of terrain, surprise, and overwhelming firepower. Shale had experienced first hand the arcane might of the Mystics. They were a motley bunch; each seemed a bit distant and esoteric. Then again, their leader had some of the same qualities since she had entered into the Starlight Arcanum and accepted the mantle of First Mystic. It didn’t matter to Shale. The Mystics were odd children, but they were still hers. She would lament the loss of a single one. She felt inextricably linked to them in a way she had never experienced before.
I wonder if other mothers feel the same about their children, she thought idly as she winged her way around the site of the ambush. She flew high enough that the sound of her flapping wings was unlikely to carry to the ground below. It meant that she had to work harder to maintain her elevation in the thinner air, but that she was invisible in the night sky unless the Vallyr had a form of mana vision. Even then, her scales allowed her to mask her presence until she was no larger than a sparrow in mana vision. It would be strange to see a magical bird, but it shouldn’t alert the Collective of the ambush ahead.
On a final turn in her circuitous route around the area, she finally spotted their prey. The Vallyr flitted through the trees like dark shadows, but Shale’s vision picked them up immediately. The Vallyr couldn’t hide their malicious mana signature like a purple stain on the world around them. Shale felt her stomach roil at the site of their mana as an inherent desire to cleanse the sickness rose in her mind.
When she passed over the center of the formation, she pulled up and began to hover in the air.
Vallyr incoming. She informed her troops through the Scourgemind. She could feel as each of her warriors rose from the stupor they had naturally and unwittingly fallen into. She didn’t blame them for their lack of attention. It was challenging to remain in the same place and remain hyper-vigilant. She had the benefit of height to let them know when their enemy was approaching.
When the first Vallyr passed the last tree and stumbled into the black water in front of them, Shale smiled. The plan was working. The Vallyr’s companions were just behind it, and Shale counseled her troops to patience.
Hold.
When the first Vallyr was about to exit the water, and the rest had reached the water’s edge, Shale ordered the assault to begin.
Attack! Shale ordered the assault to begin.
The command was followed by gigantic fireballs launching from the Mystics positions. There were about ten of them, and they turned the night into daytime as they screamed their way toward the Collective forces. Shale heard shouts of alarm coming from the enemy, but it as far too late. The stream slowed their reactions, and only a few on the extreme edges of the stream were able to react in time to avoid the explosions that rocked the night. The flames were so intense that the stream was evaporated entirely where the fire struck.
The fire cleared, and as Shale weaved her way through the smoke, she saw that some of the enemy had been wholly immolated. Before the fireballs struck, they had existed, but now some of them were simply gone. Others were screaming in pain at blue-white fire licked their flesh. Those cries were quickly silenced. Vallyr were susceptible to light, and Cleansing Flames were especially effective against their kind. Any that were set alight, promptly found themselves thoroughly covered in the fire as their skin burned like old parchment.
Fall back, Shale ordered, and she watched as the Scourge quickly complied. They intentionally made noises, and Shale could see that the Vallyr were pursuing.
“Follow them!” A voice rang out through the chaos. Shale grinned evilly to herself. It had been a while since the Collective had fought a real battle within their borders. Fighting an insurrection was utterly different from defending a siege on the border. These particular Scourge would discover the difference to their detriment.
Shale glided lower closer to the action as she sought to catch a more detailed glimpse of the enemy. A fire had started to spread in the surrounding trees, and the battlefield was partially illuminated. The combination of trees and firelight created twisting silhouettes that confused the eye, and Shale saw Vallyr mages toss purple bolts of energy at random s
hadows. They feared another attack, and Shale was happy to see them wasting their energy and phantasms. The smoke filled the air and helped to conceal her presence. The scent of campfires and burning flesh filled her nose with equal measure as the last screams of the Vallyr filled the air like the wailing of the damned.
She noticed that one Vallyr seemed particularly unfazed by the action. She made her way toward his direction and circled until she was following him as he ran towards the Scourge’s fallback position. His face was set into a grim mask and he was wearing the dark robes that usually denoted one of the Cult. This particular person was carrying a twisted iron staff that looked like two screaming bodies grotesquely fused together. Shale figured this was the leader, and she swooped lower to allow her tail to drag behind her like the rudder of a ship. She planned on punching her tail blade through the man’s skull and eliminating him from the battle.
When her tail was within a couple of feet of the man’s head, and Shale had already planned how she was going to proceed, the Vallyr turned and hissed.
“Got you, bitch!”
The man’s fingers filled with another of the purple bolts of energy, and he thrust his hand at her. Shale felt like the world itself slowed as she watched the flash of lightning launch from his palm and strike her in the chest. She had no time to protect herself or change her movement before she was ejected from the air. She crashed into the ground and dug a fissure before the earth stopped her momentum. Shale was dazed as she stared into the starry sky. The scent of her own burning flesh and hair hit her nose and she looked down at her chest to see how badly she was injured. When she saw the ruined mess that her torso had become, her mind couldn’t comprehend the damage. Her body looked like an overripe melon that had been dropped on the ground. In shock, she tried to use her hands to sweep the gore back together, but she couldn’t understand why she only had one arm.
As one palm scooped up the silvery pulp, her chest had become, a face entered her vision. The pale-faced man had a fine and delicate bone structure. His porcelain skin was thin enough that Shale could see the black veins pulsing just below the surface. The man’s eyes were coal-black with no distinction between sclera and pupil. They were emotionless voids set into a severe countenance. He snarled as he stared down at her body before aiming a kick at her mutilated figure. Shale thought it was strange that she couldn’t feel the kick land. She still attempted to put her insides back where they belonged.
“Why the fuck, don’t you feel any fear?” The Vallyr spit upon her before kneeling until he was right above her face. He set down his staff next to her.
Shale could hear the sounds of combat raging around them, but there seemed to be a bubble of peace that surrounded the two leaders. She saw that the Vallyr appeared to be growing increasingly angry. She watched as he opened a hand and slapped her soundly on the face. She saw the blow land, but she didn’t sense its touch upon her cheek.
“Why. The. Fuck. Don’t. You. Fear. Me!?” The man screamed. Each word had been punctuated by another slap and Shale felt multiple teeth dislodge from her guns. Each blow had been harder than the next, and the Queen knew she should have felt something by now. She let the fangs drip from the side of her mouth in a bloody stream. She smiled as she realized she was going to die. It wasn’t the first time, but at least this time, her death confounded her enemy. There was nothing more that she could ask for as a warrior.
The smile further enraged the man, and he was about to finish her off when a confused look crossed his face. Shale merely watched until a floating sensation pressed itself upon her consciousness. She felt like her mind was simultaneous too small and too large for her flesh at the same time. It felt like her body had been sized incorrectly for her soul. Perhaps, it had been. Mortal wrappings could seldom contain warriors like Shale. True heroes were something greater; they graced the collective consciousness of the people they served. A piece of them lived in every man and woman who saw injustice and thought to themselves:
Fuck this.
Shale screamed into the ether, and the ether yelled back. She snapped back into her body like the retraction of a breaking bowstring. The body that she had returned to was not the one that she had left. She towered over the Vallyr, and she felt like a titan amongst mortals. The man simply looked up at her in awe and fear.
I smell your fear, she told him evilly. The man darted to the ground to grab his staff, but Shale intercepted him with a swipe of a talon-tipped foreleg. The blow sent the man sprawling, and Shale pounced forward like a striking cat. She felt her lower jaw bisect and her mouth open wide enough to swallow the man whole. She darted her head forward on a long snake-like neck and sunk six-inch fangs into the Vallyr leader. As her razor-sharp teeth pierced the flesh of her enemy, she felt venom pour itself into the body from hollow channels in the teeth. Gripping the man tightly in her jaws, she swung him airborne and released him. He wailed the entire time he ascended until gravity took over. On his downward plunge, Shale opened her mouth and swallowed the man entirely. As he slid down her gullet, she could feel acid immediately breaking him up. By the time that he landed into her stomach, he was nothing but a quantity of liquid biomass.
Shale roared in victory. The sound spread throughout the night, and creatures within a ten-mile radius froze as fear stopped them cold and chilled their souls. The moonlight colored dragon felt heat boil in her gut, and she let it loose into the air as a torrent of flame. The fire ejected from her mouth in a thirty-foot pyre that signaled the end of their Vallyr pursuers. It was time to face the Scourge Queen’s Revenge.
CHAPTER 24: THE CITY CRACKS
THE CITY OF Koral was awash in the fires of its destruction. Slate flew overhead in his dragon form like the specter of Armageddon itself. Occasionally, he would launch a fireball from his maw and watch its impact on one of the buildings below. The sounds of the citizens screaming was beautiful music to his ears. They were a chorus singing odes to his strength and his power. He exulted in the feeling of the air underneath his wings and the terrified populace underneath his feet. Sunlight glinted off of his golden scales and creating a shining beacon. He didn’t inspire hope, but terror. It was precisely the way he had planned.
Well, not exactly, he reflected.
He had not predicted that his next evolution would make him into a dragon half of the time. It would be an exciting development if it didn’t mean the other half of the time he was stuck in a form no more potent than a Guardian. Nor did he think that Serena, who flew at his back, prepared to dive to take any oncoming blow in his stead, would be alongside him for this particular exercise. Overall, he was satisfied with the efforts of the Scourge. They were shaping up to become an elite force endowed with a lethality that far exceeded their numbers. They would become even stronger over time. He knew that when Shale’s and his forces combined, they would be able to share the experiences that each of them had earned separately. Slate could already see how that would be an effective training strategy going forward.
The whole city was suffering under the malaise of a protracted siege combined with the hunger that gnawed at their bellies and sapped their will. Slate had spent much of the last week strategically burning stockpiles of grain and other foodstuffs. Many would starve and die this winter. It wasn’t something that Slate concerned himself with. He could always create more of his people from his loins. He wasn’t as dependent upon the population as the Vallyr were. This was going to be a battle of attrition.
How do you eat an elephant? He thought wryly — one bite at a time.
The destruction of Koral was done by multiple prodding strikes, one after another, each led by one of the Firsts. The only thing Slate needed to contribute was to instill terror into the defenders and distract them from the rest of the Scourge’s actions. There was not going to be any resistance, at least not any that Slate wasn’t expecting. He made sure to remove any figures that seemed capable of putting up such a defense. After a while, the number of brave officers willing to stick out and try t
o organize the defenders dropped drastically just as planned. The plan had been in motion over the last week, and the evening’s festivities were merely the culmination of their efforts. Slate knew that something would go wrong. As the saying went, “no plan survived first contact,” but he made sure to be there whenever anything disrupted the plan to bathe them in fire. Troublemakers had a difficult time being disruptive when they were on fire. Slate assumed it had something to do with the pain.
Usually, the gill-noses were able to be a lot more challenging to deal with, even when their cannon fodder was set on fire, Slate pondered, I assume it must have something to do with them being on fire as well. He chuckled at the thought, and the guttural growls that came deep from within his chest echoed across the fields below.
Matek had spearheaded the first effort. His unit of Lurkers had spent the better part of a week identifying and removing critical figures within the city. Even an amateur strategist would know that eliminating vital centers and authority figures was necessary for any battle, their loss becoming a critical weakness to be exploited. Financiers, guard officers, guild leaders, religious figures, and community heads were all summarily poisoned and killed by Matek and his subordinates. It was enough to kill them outright, but Matek used their deaths to send messages and inspire dread.
When the conflict had only been days away, Slate wanted to take a much more direct role in this process, as his raw instincts craving to tear flesh from bone had begun to surface. Fortunately, Matek counseled him to wait. The First Lurker was, of course, entirely correct, and his performance in Koral supported the man’s confidence. Each time he controlled his instincts and thought clearly, Slate was reminded that he needed to let his subordinates exercise their skills and bring them to bear. He had paid for ignoring his experienced subordinate’s words of wisdom before with his life, and Slate never made the same mistake twice. The Scourge needed to come into their roles, and being treated like chicks to a mother hen was never going to give him the tools he needed to bring Somnium to heel. Mindless subordinates with the Scourge’s instinct for slaughter and bloodshed without the ability to make their own decisions... Despite his effort, Slate was unable to come up with an image swifter or surer for his subordinates to die short of mass suicide. After a week of leaving corpses hanging in the open street or food distributors breaking down into puddles of flesh, the King had no alternative but to admit that even he had a thing or two to learn from Matek’s methods. Matek himself had killed so many targets himself that he had finally made the transition from Lurker to Shadow. Slate knew the spy had been trying to catch up to Sumnu and had used the assassinations as an opportunity to gain experience.
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