I watched as the knights carefully removed a circular marble slab from the floor in the center of the House of Knowledge. After a few days restoring tomes for the Liches to study, we found a clue in a journal that likely belonged to the city's founder.
With a heavy thud, a large, dark hole was revealed, with a precarious spiral staircase leading into its depths. We approached the edge, exchanging a glance before a small group was chosen to descend: Dovev, Zohara, two knights, and myself.
As a precaution, I cast Repair on the staircase, ensuring it wouldn't collapse, and then Cast Light, creating a luminous orb above our heads, illuminating the path.
The descent was slow, our breaths, footsteps, and the creaking of the steps being the only sounds amidst the stuffy, damp passage. It wasn't long before we reached the bottom, stepping on gray tiles in a corridor that seemed more preserved than the building above.
Dovev moved forward, amazed by the discovery, murmuring things I didn't bother to listen to because there were more important matters, like the pressure plate he was about to step on.
"What?!"
He exclaimed in surprise and confusion as I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and the rest of the group turned towards me, expecting an explanation.
"Look at the floor, the tile you almost stepped on is slightly higher than the others, basically a mechanism that triggers a trap."
I lit my flame and threw a small fireball towards the torches on either side of the corridor. That same fire bounced towards the subsequent torches, repeating the process until it reached the door at the end of the passage.
"Now look at the walls and the floor carefully."
The group did as I asked, spreading out and examining the worked stone that surrounded us. Some let out insults and sighs while others recoiled in fear, as small holes surrounded us, each with an arrowhead gleaming inside.
"I-I almost killed us all…"
The Lich turned paler than usual, while his assistant looked on the verge of fainting. I placed a hand on both their shoulders in an attempt to comfort them, but this only served to unsettle their nerves.
"Be careful next time. Not all ruins are like that, but there's always one ruin with traps to keep invaders away."
"You have a keen eye for these things. Personal experience?"
"You can't imagine."
I returned Dovev's nervous smile with my own, and then we continued forward, this time wary of more traps.
The large stone door at the end of the corridor was covered in ornaments and carvings revealing landscapes and people, with a kind of coat of arms in its center.
Berakhiah Stein, the Traveler, proved more real with each passing minute. There was a large, dusty room on the other side, with a stone coffin in its center and nothing else.
We found no traps and surrounded the coffin, carefully removing its lid, revealing an ancient skeleton inside.
A Sarkaz, judging by the horns, wearing rags that were once quality clothes, but the book in the grip of his crossed hands over his ribcage was what caught our attention.
I cast Repair before Dovev and Zohara picked up the book, ensuring it wouldn't turn to dust. They both wasted no time leafing through the tome.
"It's another journal, this one recounting Berakhiah's personal thoughts and experiences!"
"Great, see if it says anything about descendants and treasures."
"...I traveled the entire Terra, from Sargon to the Ice Fields, experiencing all that this world had to offer. I learned from countless masters in numerous fields, and with this knowledge, I amassed a fortune worthy of a king. I could have bought the throne if I wanted, but being a Monarch is not a blessing, but a curse; the sword always hangs above your head, and you never know when it will fall. Instead, I observed how empires and kingdoms rose and fell, brought new ideas, technologies, sciences, and philosophies to Kazdel, and with my gold, transformed the small village where I grew up into a thriving merchant fortress, a white stone mountain that gleams in the desert day and night. However, it is impossible to defeat time, no matter how many esoteric Arts I use to extend my life. I passed on all that I know to my children and apprentices and used all the treasure that remained to modernize my homeland as much as possible. However, fate is a cruel force, or perhaps the hearts of angels are not so pure. According to the Pope, we devils are not worthy of living as humans. Right now I hear their guns tearing our lines and their cannons bringing down our walls. The crusade never ends. My children perished, the lineage ends with me. I am a man with many regrets, but I will never deny that I have lived longer than any king or nobleman. While they hide in their castles, I witnessed the wonders this world had to offer. Farewell Kazdel, land of pain. With all my strength, I transformed your sands into pure gold, even if only briefly."
A solemn silence filled the chamber as Dovev and Zohara finished reading the diary entry, and the old Lich spoke next.
"We got what we wanted. Let's go back. We can use the diary as proof that taking the city is not worthwhile."
The Sarkaz present spoke something I didn't understand and made a strange hand gesture before heading towards the door with slow, downcast steps.
I gave one last look towards the skeleton in the coffin, frowning as I saw something glistening beneath the rags. Checking that no one was watching me, I rummaged through the rags, smiling slightly as I found a Spirit Ash.
"I wish I had known you in life, but I think this will be enough."
I was pulled from my thoughts when a slight tremor shook the place, sending dust flying onto my head.
A muffled noise echoed in the distance, followed by screams and explosions. It didn't take much to guess what it was; the attack had begun.
-XXXXXX-
I pushed the ladder away as soon as it touched the walls, knocking down all the mercenaries who tried to climb it. However, I raised my shield immediately, blocking the arrow that came dangerously close to hitting my skull.
"Fire!"
At my command, the archers unleashed a rain of arrows, felling all the attackers who failed to raise their shields or were not wearing armor thick enough. The archers' synchronization and speed left something to be desired, but it was enough for now.
"Buldrokkas'tee!"
I turned to the runner who had just arrived, covered in sweat and breathing heavily.
"Report!"
"The north wall is also under attack while clashes between the attacking forces occur near the east and west walls. If we hold out long enough, perhaps both mercenary armies will end up killing each other!"
"Hm… It's never that easy. Any news on Ephram and Tis'adel?"
"They are coordinating the defenses at their respective posts."
"Very well, now move away from the walls, I will call upon your services when necessary."
The messenger nodded and ran towards the stairs, just in time to escape the worst when fire and lightning rained down on us, courtesy of the casters. Screams echoed around me; those who hadn't died struggled to get up. Simultaneously, the first mercenaries set foot on the walls.
The first of them lost his head as soon as it appeared, thanks to a swift slash from a nearby knight. Those who followed suffered a similar fate, allowing him to bring down the ladder.
However, the militia didn't possess the same level of skill, slowly being overwhelmed and allowing the mercenaries to advance. Soon, close-quarters combat took over the place, with bodies hitting the ground one by one.
I raised my shield and charged forward like a beast, ignoring the cries of pain and the cracking of bones, felling mercenaries to their deaths.
Soon I found myself alongside the knight and others of the same rank, fighting against the seemingly endless horde. With sword cuts, blood rained in rivers; with the piercing of my trident, I lifted bodies above my head before hurling them away.
It was subtle, but our enemies seemed to cower at the sight that we would not retreat. To our relief, reinforcements climbed the stairs, offering support and allowing our forces to reorganize.
However, the gates were nearing their limit, ablaze with fire arts, weakening them enough for the battering ram to easily bring them down.
Just below, a wall of palisades, shields, and spears awaited, with crossbowmen positioned high above.
I was about to leap into combat, but as soon as the gate fell and the mercenaries advanced like an unrestrained mob, shimmering blue streaks ripped through the air, engulfing the enemy forces in massive explosions of the same color.
Craters filled with human parts and blue crystals were all that remained. The defenders watched in horror, and though I couldn't see from here, I believe the mercenaries following behind had a similar reaction.
I searched the city for the source of the attack, already imagining its owner, and there he was, on the roof of one of the tallest buildings, holding a massive bow made of pure blue arts.
Alden pulled his arm back, creating a huge energy arrow, firing it towards one of the sections of the walls where attackers were advancing, then he repeated the process, turning in the opposite direction.
But of course he could do that.
Anyway, I still had a job to do. I jumped from the walls and landed near the gate, taking the front line.
Then, a figure appeared, stepping through the smoke, surrounded by an armored guard. A tall, strong Sarkaz, covered in metal from head to toe to the point that I couldn't distinguish anything of importance.
"The quality of the mercenaries has declined if you were able to last this long."
He spoke in a mocking tone, preparing his sword and shield.
"I suppose you are the warlord who planned this attack."
"The one and only. Surrender and I will allow you to live."
"You speak as if your words meant anything. After all the work you've done, your men must be furious; I doubt you will all spare the city and its inhabitants."
"Certainly, but the attempt was worthwhile. Attack!"
Then, at his command, the army advanced.
-XXXXXX-
"Ephram, behind you!"
As soon as Tis'adel's voice reached my ears, I turned as fast as lightning, blocking the sword that nearly severed my head.
"Hello, knight, do you remember me?!"
I came face to face with the mercenary I had faced on the road, but something was different; he was stronger. Sparks rained down as the steel of our swords clashed. Applying more force from behind his attack, he nearly brought me to my knees.
"Get out of the way!"
Gritting my teeth, I parried his weapon aside, leaping away in time to dodge Tis'adel's mace that struck the center of his chest.
A heavy blow like that would have killed any normal man, but instead of having his organs crushed, he remained standing, blood leaking from his helmet, but still standing.
Looking past him, I saw the militia and soldiers trained by Tis'adel facing the mercenaries on the walls. Things were spiraling out of control quickly.
"You, you have been enhanced by casters."
"Oh, such sharp eyes!"
"You fool! Do you have any idea how addictive it is to be enhanced by arts that aren't your own?!"
"And you think I care?! Your head on a stake is what I want!"
The next blow would have split me in two if I hadn't retreated. His sword sank into the ground, allowing me to close the distance between us, aiming for his neck.
My eyes widened as he gripped my weapon with his free hand, spilling a trickle of blood.
CRACK!
With a squeeze, my blade snapped in two, and as his fist approached my face, I used my arts. Time seemed to slow down, but in truth, I had become faster. If I couldn't win with strength, then I would use my best attribute.
I used what remained of my sword to leave a heavy cut on his arm. His cry of pain and surprise seemed like a meaningless murmur. I crouched right after as his sword left the ground and came towards me, hearing its metal scrape against the top of my helmet.
Tis'adel advanced next, her mace striking the mercenary's forearm as he raised it to block the attack.
There was a crack, his armor crumpled like paper, and the former mercenary became his focus. However, I moved faster, grabbing her by the shoulders, pulling her away.
The powerful swing ripped a chunk out of the battlements, and within a few steps, our adversary was close, raising his sword above his head with both hands.
I pushed Tis'adel aside as I retreated in the opposite direction, avoiding the blow and slashing his stomach before rounding him. However, he seemed to anticipate my movements, turning quickly and striking me on the head with the back of his fist.
I couldn't tell if it was my skull or helmet cracking, but it felt like being hit by a beast of burden. The world spun and became a blur, I fell to my knees, my vision doubled over, noticing spilled blood to my left.
My head felt lighter, and I saw something familiar on the ground. I raised a hand and realized my horn was gone.
I felt something burning in my chest; I couldn't tell if it was anger or shame. With a trembling hand, I retrieved my sword; perhaps it was too late, for the mercenary was preparing his next strike. However, the white-haired woman leaped onto his back, trapping his neck with the hilt of her weapon.
The mercenary recoiled, struggling like a beast. An elbow strike made me hear Tis'adel's ribs cracking from here. I didn't waste my chance; in a burst of speed, I sliced his torso from top to bottom, painting my armor red.
It was a barrage, blow after blow, pushing him towards the edge of the walls. But Tis'adel had reached her limit, losing her grip and finding herself hanging from the battlements.
Weakened, the mercenary launched one last attack, but he didn't even make it halfway before I was in front of him, and with a kick as strong as a swift beast, I knocked him down to his death.
His screams faded amidst the sounds of combat, and I wasted no time pulling Tis'adel up.
"COUGH! Thanks for the help."
She gave me a laugh followed by a bloody smile, failing to hide her pain. Or at least that's what I thought amidst my distorted vision.
"I should be thanking you, you saved my life."
"We're even."
We exchanged a laugh, but our joy was short-lived. Looking around, we saw the mercenaries advancing in blind fury.
"Hey, if we survive, would you like to go on a date with me?"
Honestly, I thought I was hallucinating. For a moment, I didn't know what to say, trying to understand what was happening amidst my headache.
"Y-yes, I'd love to!"
"Great, it's a promise, you better not forget."
With weapons in hand and exhausted bodies, we prepared to fight to the end, until a rain of enormous, gleaming arrows bombarded the walls, destroying the mercenary forces.
The mercenaries who crossed the gate as soon as it fell suffered a similar fate, killed by the arrows.
I felt my mouth drop open, and I think Tis'adel was in a similar situation. Whoever this gave us the necessary time, as reinforcements had arrived to clear the wall.
The newcomers wasted no time in guiding us away from the combat, heading towards the healers.
For a moment, I thought I was hallucinating again, because as soon as my feet touched the streets, I imagined seeing the ghost of a Sarkaz, a tall, bright blue being, wearing robes and carrying a staff, leading the defense of the gates.
I would have demanded an explanation, but the corners of my vision darkened and I was soon overcome by unconsciousness.
-XXXXXX-
I groaned as the noises around me assaulted my ears, making my throbbing headache worse.
I heard voices, but I couldn't understand the words spoken. I regretted opening my eyes immediately; the light was intense, but fortunately, a blur appeared in front of me, blocking the brightness.
"It's surprising you're still alive after the blow to the head. I wouldn't get up if I were you, not before we test if everything is working as it should."
Judging by the provocative tone, this must be Warfarin. I couldn't answer, I just closed my eyes and waited, trying to rest as much as possible.
Strangely, there were no sounds of fighting, either I was unconscious for a long time, or the battle ended quickly, and since we're alive, I believe we won.
"Hey, are you awake?"
It was a monumental effort to turn my head, feeling everything spinning, but as I did, I saw a white and red blur beside me.
"Tis'adel?"
"Yes, it's me. How are you?"
"Horrible."
"Oh, yeah. You look worse than me."
"What happened?"
"We won, and you won't believe how."
"Does this have something to do with the ghost from before?"
"Oh, so you remember? Yes, you bet."
"To hell with it, I don't want to know. I'm too tired for that."
I felt a hand intertwining its fingers with mine, and I ended up squeezing it amidst the confusion.
"Then rest, after all, you need to get better before our date."
I couldn't help but laugh at his words, but soon I found myself losing consciousness again, this time enveloped by the fog of sleep.
END OF CHAPTER