Chapter 170: Prep For War; Demme (P4)

Despite everyone's jittery nerves about the night creatures, we ended up making our way into what Piol says is the relatively safe boundary of the village.

I suppose they've had a lot of time to consider all these things; safe zones, routines, signing up. It's very organized from what I can tell.

With the receded sun I fear I won't be able to make out the village, but Demme illuminates itself almost as soon as we step within the safe zone. 

Several feet ahead, past the rather strewn attempts at starting up farming land on the safe zone, the wooden-cobbles tall and broken walls of Demme a set alit with pyres of flame that cast an orange light far into the distance.

"Another precaution." Piol says, explaining the need for pyres of fire on their walls, "Many of these monsters are afraid of fire, it's very effective too, especially against the Werebears with their furs."

"It keeps them out at night but…at dawn they're usually fearless, I'm not sure why since we could just light it up again, maybe because the flame is brighter in the dark, either way…we get our breaks at night."

"Except when the spiders hatch." Piol's comrade from before pitches in.

Piol nods, "Except for then."

"And what happens when the Spiders hatch?"

Piol stares dead ahead, just as the gates ahead of us creak open, "Newborns need food, so mothers send them out hunting…it's an entire army of spiders."

The intonation behind that makes me shiver. I think I've had nightmares where I'm drowning in beetles before, but I think spiders might be worse now.

Leaving the horrible thoughts behind I focus on what approaches now. Men and women, several of them, all armoured and armed to the teeth.

And if that faint hum I feel is true, then many of them have enchanted equipment. The privileges of having an Enchanter for a Mayor I suppose.

Though, as I and my entourage walk to meet them in the middle, I notice something very different about them. 

Their armour, it's unlike any other I've seen. It's certainly not the typical steel, though there are some who have steel armour on, but even their weapons have on this strange, spiked and curved look to it.

The colour variant as well, several are white with patches of black, but others are grey, red, even green.

Could this be…

"Monster Armour…" I mutter, just as I'm met face to face with a large rippling man whose face bears many scars.

He doesn't answer my mutterings, in fact, he doesn't even address me, "Piol was it?"

Piol straightens up, his shackles dangling, "Yes sir!"

"Are you alright?"

"Just fine, thank you sir!"

The man studies Piol for a moment longer before setting his sights on me. 

I smile widely, "Finally have time for me?"

He doesn't smile back, "You have our scouts captured, release them or expect swift retaliation."

My eyes shift from his stern, demanding gaze and study the others at the back. Very few are covered in what I'm assuming is the Spider armour, and of those few they all hold the same might and authority the man confronting me does. 

I suppose these are the elites.

Noticeably they have far more muscle and fat than any of the others behind them, not at all malnourished like the scouts.

It's easy to glean what's going on here, and for the most part I think I'd do the same thing if I was posed with such a situation.

Although, I didn't think I'd be feeding more potential fighters. Is this how it's going to be all the time? I buy my army with food?

I let out a sad sigh.

"I am speaking to you." The man says through grit teeth.

"Ah, sorry, was just lost in thought." I scratch the back of my head and offer a sheepish smile, one he still does not reciprocate, "You wouldn't be the Mayor of Demme would you?"

His eyes dim a bit at this and I know he's about to lie, "And what if I am? Who are you and why have you yet to release our scouts?"

"Who am I? Why, don't you see?" I act mock shocked and pull on the emblem pinned onto my shirt, the insignia of Aste.

The man barely looks at it, "You are not Trever, who are you?"

"Trever was since removed from office my friend, and the person after him was chased off when I came along, and now I'm here, looking for the Mayor of this…kindly village."

He snarls, hand reaching for his blade

"Ah ah ah!" I warn, wagging my finger, "I don't think you want to be so rash my friend, I can end their lives anytime I want, and all I have to do is snap my fingers."

He and several of his monster armour comrades bristle at my comment, but nonetheless, relax once more.

"Release them and state your business with Demme."

His eyes shift to the side at this, and I can tell he's checking to see if the archers are in position. 

They are.

"As I've said, I'm the Mayor of Aste and I need to speak to the Mayor of Demme," I'm getting on edge now and so are the men behind me, already they've shuffled into position, shields up and hands on their weapons.

Anselm? Anselm is bored and unconcerned. This prophesy bullshit, I'd never have thought I'd meet nagging Anselm.

I continue nonetheless, trying to seem unbothered by the fact that I currently have no shield from something as seemingly harmless as an arrow, at least, not unless I want to cut myself open to try out the Blood series variant of the Bone shield.

"I'm also on the hunt for two runaways. A man and a woman, currently hiding in the top room of one of your inns."

He frowns deeply, "You must speak to me of your intents before you begin to speak to our Mayor." Ah…he's finally given in to the truth, "But I do not know of these people you speak of, there have been no visitors to Demme, not until you."

Now I'm beginning to wonder if I shouldn't just barge in after all. I can trap twenty of them with a Death Grip and suck out the soul out of ten, recharge my mana with the other ten with Soul Drain, toss two of the extracted souls at the archers in position to serve as a distraction while I tweak the other eight with Soul Manipulation and finally turn two or three corpses into ghouls once I have enough mana from filtering with another one of the extracted souls.

Instead, I do none of that, but not because I don't want to but because of the commotion at the back.

Slowly, the crowd of armed and armoured warriors part, giving way for the approach of an old, short grey haired man in robes that stink of mana.

The Mayor of Demme