Realm of Monsters-Chapter 604: Battle at the Terrace

Chapter 604: Battle at the Terrace

“I know about your plans. Stryg had the Gales capture one of the assassins you hired. We had a purple mage scour their mind,” bluffed Freya.

Ingrid stopped, her expression changing rapidly as her mind cycled through a silent list of names. She froze as a name settled into place. Suddenly, her eyes flickered to Stryg and his free hand hovering closely by Krikolm’s hilt. “Guards!” she screamed.

Stryg drew Krikolm, the scarlet blade flashing brilliantly in the light of the setting sun.

Ingrid flinched backwards, throwing her hands in front of her, lightning crackling between her fingertips, but it was too late. Krikolm swung down between her hands and straight at her skull. A silver sheen of light suddenly enveloped Ingrid and the red blade slammed into the shield of power in a clash of sparks, sending Stryg careening backwards.

The silver light cracked before reforming into a solid aura of protection around Ingrid. Stryg recognized the familiar display, Sylvie had a similar defense. “Aegis. She has an aegis—!”

A lightning bolt arced out of Ingrid’s hands and struck Stryg. He barely managed to lift his sword in time. Most of the lightning sprawled off Krikolm, though the little that went through burned through Stryg’s tunic and sizzled his skin. He staggered to one knee and gritted his teeth, the electricity coursing through him. Blossom’s white petals bristled at the attack and puffed outwards, a protective cloak around him.

“Guards! We’re under attack! Guards!” Ingrid screamed.

“What the blazes is happening!?” said Aric and raised his hands, ready to channel.

Freya stepped in front of his wheelchair and pointed Oginum at his chest. “Don’t,” she warned in a cold voice.

Aric frowned. “Freya, what are you doing?”

The look of confusion on her brother’s face sent a pang of guilt through her heart, but Freya couldn’t hesitate. For all she knew Aric was just waiting for her and Stryg to turn their backs before striking them down. She had to make sure he was innocent in all of this.

The clunking sound of steel boots hitting the stone floor echoed from the manor as dozens of dwarven guards rushed onto the terrace. Several wore the black leathers of battle mages. They surrounded Ingrid in an instant and pointed their weapons at Stryg. The battle mages lifted their hands and prepared their spells, but they hesitated at the sight of Freya and Aric.

Stryg rolled his shoulders with a small grimace and stood to his feet.

“Are you alright?” Freya asked without looking away from the still-growing group of soldiers and mages.

“I’m fine,” Stryg muttered.

Ingrid pointed an accusing finger at Freya. “She is trying to kill Aric and me for choosing to support him in the succession. Protect your lord! Stop them at all costs!”

“She is lying, stand down,” said Freya. She tried to bury her anxiousness and project her voice as calmly as possible, but it shook with every word.

“What are you waiting for!? Protect your lord!” Ingrid shouted indignantly.

The soldiers glanced at one another uncertainly. They pointed their weapons at Stryg and Freya and marched on them.

Orange mana flowed into Stryg and he stretched out his hand. A massive ball of flames sparked into existence at his fingertips, the sweltering heat overwhelming those too close. Several of the battlemages wrote ward sigils into the air and a red translucent shield popped into existence around their troops.

With a malicious grin, Stryg threw his hand to the sky. The fireball shot into the air and exploded in a ring of fire above the manor.

Orange sparks erupted at the center of the terrace as Holo Flickered into existence alongside Gale and seven members of the Singing Willow troupe. Each was dressed in beige robes and white leather armor, vaguely similar to the dwarven battle mages. Gale alone was clad in wine-red armour. Atlas towered over the rest, a giant amongst mortals.

“Forgive me Sylas, old friend, I will do what I must,” Atlas whispered to himself and drew his sword.

The dwarven soldiers stared at the giant and took a fearful step back. Even the dwarven battle mages seemed disturbed.

“Stand your ground, the dire is still just a man!” Ingrid growled.

Holo tossed her long black curls aside and winked at Stryg, then Flickered out of existence and reappeared in the midst of the dwarves. She spun Lyrae in a wide circle. The orichalcum scythe sliced through the dwarven bodies all around her, severing two of the battle mages’ heads from their shoulders.

The ward shield surrounding the dwarves crumbled into red dust as the dwarven mages died. Atlas didn’t hesitate, he roared a warcry and charged. His fellow troupe members began channeling and tossed spells against the enemy battle mages.

Stryg ran after his family. He leaped into the air and crashed into the enemy. Krikolm cleaved into a dwarf’s shield and the arm underneath in one clean slice. The woman cried out before Stryg slit her throat with another strike. He moved with the momentum of the sword and cut into another soldier’s side. Krikolm rang with metallic glee as it drank the blood of its master’s enemies.

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A dwarf rushed Stryg’s back with a spear. Stryg flicked his free hand behind and blasted them away with a Torrent spell. The water funneled into a dull but small point and slammed into the dwarf with such force that it caved in his armor and sent him flying into the gardens.

With a burst of Green, Stryg kicked his foot into the ground. Stone spikes broke free from the ceramic tiles, stabbing into the legs of many a dwarf. A sword slashed into his back, but Blossom’s bristled petals proved resilient and stopped the blade in its tracks.

Yellow mana flowed into Stryg and coated his skin in translucent scales of yellow light. The defensive scales hindered his movements but the added protection allowed him to let loose. He shoved past a few guards, ignoring their attacks, and thrust his hand into the chest of a battle mage.

The sound of his claws piercing through the black leather cuirass, the flesh, and ribs beneath was invigorating. Stryg could feel the dwarf’s heart still beating in his hand. The man had barely time to register what had happened before Stryg ripped his heart out.

The seeping cold feeling of chaos mana flowing into Stryg coursed through his body. He felt alive in a way he hadn’t felt since fighting the dragonbane. Gone was the rage from that night, but the feeling of power remained and it grew with every life he took, as if the death all around was rousing it awake from somewhere deep within him.

Stryg found himself smiling, lips bloody from a dwarf’s throat he had just torn out with his fangs. The cold taste of chaos overwhelmed his other emotions and thoughts. It was exhilarating, seeing these mortals collapse at his feet.

Strength flowed into him as it had the night of the siege. A dwarf ran at him, angry tears burning in her eyes, a warcry on her lips. Stryg swatted her ax away with the back of his hand, not even bothering to use Krikolm. He reached out with his hand, grasped her helmet, and squeezed. The metal and her skull underneath crumpled in his grip. The dwarf screamed for but a moment before blood and viscera gushed out of the helmet and her body went slack.

The whole scene seemed absurd to Stryg. How fragile these mortals were. He wanted to laugh. The whole thing was terribly funny. He turned to Freya, expecting to see her grinning alongside him, but his friend was busy fighting off several soldiers.

She seemed to be struggling, a thought that seemed absurd to Stryg. All she had to do was swing Oginum at them once and it would be over, but she refused to attack them, only using the hammer to defend herself. Why she didn’t just kill these wretches was beyond him.

But then Stryg saw something from the corner of his eye. Ingrid stood behind a wall of guards, channeling a Blue spell. As the lightning in her hands grew and formed into a shape vaguely resembling an arrow, Stryg recognized it for what it was. The Storm Spear, an arch-rank spell to ruinous effect. Ingrid turned her aim to a distracted Freya.

Panic surged in Stryg, overwhelming the sweet cold touch of chaos. “Freya!” he roared. But it was too late. The crackling blue spear hurled across the terrace. The world seemed to slow for the blink of an eye.

Orange and Brown burned through Stryg’s veins. Orange’s agility lightened his weight and increased his speed as Brown’s vigor strengthened his muscles. Chaos burned ice cold within as he kicked off the ground, shattering the tiles underneath him. He flew past the soldiers like a comet, pushing them aside in a burst of power and speed. For that brief moment, everything seemed impossibly slow to Stryg. The Storm Spear stretched across the air, blue branches etching ever closer to Freya. Stryg flew between them both and the spear struck him true.

The lightning melted through Blossom, his Yellow scales, and his flesh. The world snapped back into focus. All Freya heard was Stryg calling her name over the clang of battle, then a flash of blue light, and finally Stryg’s body flying through the air and crashing in a smoking heap.

“NO!!” Gale shrieked. She tore through the enemies like a berserker, cutting down all in her path, even as wounds accumulated over her own body. The wind swirled around as her life force and her sword technique reacted to her rage.

Ingrid’s eyes widened in terror as she spotted the monster rushing at her. Ingrid channeled blue and began to cast another Storm Spear when Holo Flickered behind her.

“Gotcha,” Holo whispered and grabbed Ingrid’s shoulder. She Flickered them both 20 paces in the air and let Ingrid go. The dwarf screamed as they fell while Holo just giggled.

The goddess landed with a heavy thud, her knees slightly bending. A sickening wet crunch resounded as Ingrid’s legs broke on impact. The aegis did nothing to protect her from the fall.

“Try spellcasting with two broken legs,” Holo said and poked the bone sticking out of her ankle.

Ingrid cried out and tried to blast the wretched woman away but the pain was too much to focus.

More dwarves rushed into the terrace, but these were led by Cedric. He commanded the dwarves already fighting to put down their weapons. While some relented, many did not. Whether they were in the throes of battle or were loyal to Ingrid it didn’t matter. Atlas and the troupe pincered them from one side as did Cedric and his soldiers from the other side.

The shouts of battle soon died down. Gale ripped through the last line of dwarves and rushed past the terrace, Ingrid, and Holo. She fell to her knees on the grass and clutched Stryg in her arms.

“No, no, gods, please not again,” Gale cried as she rocked Stryg’s limp body back and forth.

“Ugh…” Stryg grimaced.

Gale’s eyes snapped open. “Stryg, you’re alive!” she cried out in relief and touched his forehead with her own. “You stupid boy, what were you thinking!?” Her words were filled with anger, but there was no strength behind them.

“My chest hurts…” he mumbled.

Gale pulled back and stared at the charred hole on his chest. His tunic was in tatters, though only a few of Blossom’s petals had burned, petals that were already starting to regrow. The blue skin around his sternum had burned away. A bit of bone was poking out from underneath the exposed scorched muscle tissue, but otherwise he seemed alive.

“H-How?” Gale whispered.

Holo walked over and scoffed lightly, “He’ll be fine. Titans grow tougher with age; even an infant like him is tougher than steel.” She cocked her head to the side and narrowed her eyes as she examined the wound. “His regeneration is still underdeveloped. He showed great power when he first awakened against the dragonbane, but it seems to have only been temporary. At this rate, it’ll probably take a few hours to close the wound.”

“Can’t you heal him?” Gale pleaded.

Holo held up a vial from her pocket, “I could, but it’s better if we let his body heal on its own. It’ll help his regeneration to improve, eventually to what it was the night he awakened.” She placed a comforting hand on Gale's shoulder. “He’ll be fine. By morning his wounds will have fully recovered.”

Stryg wasn’t listening, he was already asleep.

“I should have protected him. I failed him,” said Gale.

“Eh, not much anyone can do to stop an idiot from jumping in front of a literal bolt of lightning,” said Holo.

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“That brings little solace, but I thank you for the words,” muttered Gale.

Holo glanced at Freya making her way over to Ingrid. “Perhaps that might do better.”