Chapter 240: The Wrinkle of Recognition

The world seemed to slow down around Alex while his mind worked to process what had just happened.

A demon had spoken to him—directly to him—like it recognised him…like it knew him.

‘No, maybe not me specifically,’ he thought. ‘Maybe it recognised that strange power I feel with teleportation spells.’

The battle raged on as the demon slowly approached, its body language was a jumble of menace, viciousness, happiness, sadness, pain, openness, secrecy…

Alex blinked.

It was such a chaotic mess: he couldn’t make sense of it. Something else was sending chills through him: the third eye shining in its forehead was boring into him; studying him, like it was looking at something that went much deeper than skin and bone.

It spoke again. “You cannot hide. I see it. I see that power. I smell it.”

“I don’t know you, demon,” Alex said, moving a hand into his potion bag.

“Do not lie, Hannar-cim!” the demon snarled, speaking a name Alex had never heard. “Yushaero of the Enemy, making a pretence of death was clumsy, you must learn to hide yourself better! These young ones might not know your scent, but I was on that battlefield. I saw you. I smelled you. I know you.”

‘Maybe you don’t know me, but you do seem to know this power,’ Alex thought, remembering how Professor Mangal had talked about immortal spirits walking multiple worlds in multiple eras. He supposed that this demon must’ve been around during The Traveller’s time…but what was this about power through the planes? About faking death?

“You’ve got me,” Alex lied, hoping to keep the demon occupied. “I’m trapped here in this mortal form!”

“Do not lie to me!” it roared. “I see the lie in you plainly. Why are you hiding behind insulting childish evasions?”

Alex stepped back, trying not to make any sudden movements as the monster came closer.

“I’m not lying!” he said…and that was true, technically. He was trapped in a mortal form…where—as a mortal—he was supposed to be. “You’re the one who’s lying, I’ve never seen you before!”

“The Battle of Hirshin-Eos,” the demon snarled. “I was there when you appeared amongst our legions, and slayed our captain. I was intrigued by your warrior skill, but not your act, and memory lasts long in our realm…and grudges even longer.”

Alex’s mind raced, thinking back on his lessons of Thameish history and geography. Was there a ‘Hirshin-Eos’ somewhere? He couldn’t remember ever hearing about such a place, even using The Mark. Maybe the demon had a different name for a battlefield in Thameland…or maybe he was referring to something else.

“What’s your name, demon?” Alex asked, while scanning the creature’s body for unique features. Scars traced all over its form: scores of old cuts, puncture wounds, and abrasions. His eyes took in each one for a deeper evaluation later using The Mark.

He focused on a particularly deep scar that streaked across the entirety of the demon’s chest: it was ragged, like the jagged teeth of a forge-hot saw had been dragged along the creature's torso. Alex winced: he couldn’t even begin to imagine how much that must’ve hurt.

The monster snarled. “No, I don’t think so,” it said. “No name for you.”

“Alright, I’ll just call you Burn-Saw then, until I find out,” Alex said.

The demon snorted. “Call me whatever you please, Hannar-cim. I’ll not let you summon me to do your bidding later. I won’t be one of your slaves.”

“Slaves?” Alex asked. “What sla-”

Whoosh!

“Shit!” he ducked suddenly.

A large demon’s scythe-claw soared through the air, nearly cutting him in two. As it fell to the sand, he noticed the red dripping off the edge.

He quickly looked back at the demon.

This was a fight for their lives: losing focus was like offering up his own head to these attackers.

There wasn’t time for questioning demons.

It was time for fighting.

He backed away from Burn-Saw, trying to work out a way to capture him; if he had information about The Traveller, Alex wanted it.

If he could get a message to Baelin-

He looked up and cursed inwardly.

The chancellor was gone, probably hunting the demon summoner.

Whoooosh.

Behind, he heard blasts from fire-beams and spells, mixed with the harsh sound of demonic cries. He turned sideways, glancing at his friends while keeping the demon in sight. They were all okay, especially with Baelin’s protective spells around them.

He turned back to face Burn-Saw and slipped a booby-trapped potion of sensory enhancement from his bag. If the demon’s senses were so sharp—it did have three eyes after all—then the potion’s effects should be devastating to those senses.

“You know,” Alex said. “If I knew your name then I’d know who it is that has a gru-”

Partway through the sentence, he whipped the potion at the creature who reacted with supernatural reflexes, snapping his axe up.

Crunch.

The bottle exploded against the bony edge, emptying into the air, enveloping the demon in potion-gas. It laughed mockingly and began to charge, but the laughter abruptly turned to a choked cry.

“My eyes!” Burn-Saw screamed as his free hand pressed to his third eye. “My ears! What did you do, you witch!?”

Alex didn’t bother answering, he began casting Summon Elemental Beetle Swarm instead, one of the fastest spells he could conjure thanks—ironically—to that strange power. The Mark’s interference slammed into him, an-

“There you are!” the demon roared, moving forward.

With a cry, Alex danced backward, falling into both the Cleansing Movements and the Spear-and-Oar Dance, but sand shifted under his foot and...

He stumbled.

Crash!

The axe slammed into the forceshield as he fought to recover his balance.

‘Right, don’t use the spell that he can sense, idiot,’ he scolded himself.

He slipped around the flailing, blinded demon, moving to put as much distance as he could between them while he began conjuring Wizard’s Hand.

The monster said something in its grating, demonic tongue.

Whooosh!

From the side, a wave of figures surged at Alex, forcing him to cut the spell and duck. A mass of bat-winged demons clawed at Baelin’s greater force armour.

Alex ducked, dodged, and danced through the chaos, kicking up sand as the monsters swarmed him from all sides

Crack! Crack!

Claws, fangs and teeth slashed at the magical armour. He wished The Mark wasn’t a hindrance so he could cast faster, but with so many demons attacking him, spell casting had become impossible.

He needed another solution. He took a booby-trapped sensory enhancement potion and shattered it amongst the demons attacking him, disrupting their senses.

Then he used the Cleansing Movements and the power of his own body against the attackers. Hanuman fighting multiple enemies in The Grand Melee came to mind, and Alex remembered how some of those competitors became obstructions to one another, and then found themselves stumbling into Grimloch’s club.

Obstructions…

He spotted the disoriented Burn-Saw flailing around half-blinded, still clutching his giant bone-axe.

An idea came to the young wizard.

He danced toward the demon, calling on The Mark to help him read the path of the axe’s swings. His booby-trapped potion was affecting the swarm of wolf-faced demons, some fell to the ground, some followed him, clumsily crashing their fangs and claws against Baelin’s defensive spells.

Those spells were a lifesaver; his own forceshield would probably have shattered by now: the demons were small, but they were clustered around him, and from the sound of the impacts, they hit hard.

He was pretty sure Burn-Saw would hit a hell of a lot harder, though.

He danced into the big demon’s path while his hands pulled and pushed demons off his armour and redirected them. Alex moved the creatures into each other’s path, knocking them around and disorienting them further.

Whoosh!

Burn-Saw kept swinging his axe.

Alex reached up to pull another small demon off his armour and toss it away…toward Burn-Saw.

Chop!

That was one down.

“What was that?” The demon roared. “Was that you, Hannar-Cim?”

Alex smiled. “How about you tell me your name and I’ll tell you what just happened?” he said, putting as much ‘smug jerk’-tone into his voice as he could to provoke the creature.

Predictably, the enraged demon roared and swung his bone axe while Alex tossed another demon like a handball.

Chop!

“Hah! Got you!” The monster snarled.

“Oooo, swing and a miss,” Alex said. “Tough luck, Burn-Saw.”

“Do not mock me!”

Whoosh!

The axe swung again and Alex guided more attackers toward their ally, then danced away.

Chop!

“Oooo, so close that time,” Alex tutted with his tongue. “Care for another try?”

“Raaargh!”

Chop!

Another vicious demon was split in half.

“I’ve got to say, that’s no way to treat your friends.”

Frustration drove Burn-Saw on, and he charged Alex, roaring and slashing in a frenzy.

Alex grinned, remembering what Professor Jules once said: “When a demon has a desire, it acts upon it most of the time.”

‘Not much for self-control, are we?’ he thought as he guided more of the demons into the path of Burn-Saw’s axe. The horde thinned as the demon wildly slashed through his allies.

One screamed something at him, but in his frenzy, the enraged demon struck at the voice, slashing the potion-afflicted creature in half.

“I’m glad I’m not your friend,” Alex chuckled.

###

Professor Ram soared through the air, firing force bolts into demons while finishing another spell.

A pitch-black wall of force sprang up on the ocean side of the camp, blocking the fish-like demons from reaching it. He flew over another group of enemies and cast an incantation. A pair of the scythe-clawed demons screeched as gravity reversed for them and they soared helplessly into the sky. He whirled on a pack of flying demons and blasted them with a cone of midnight-dark force, tearing their bodies apart.

Demons fell by the second, torn to bits by dozens of spells and weapons wielded by the competitors from The Grand Battle and the other wizards.

…not all was going their way, though.

Some on the beach weren’t warriors: they were students who’d entered a competition for fun and prizes. They had no experience in battles of life and death, and it showed. While the experienced or well-trained combatants formed a line around the camp to keep the demons out, most of the inexperienced ones hesitated, or fled like prey seeking safety within the interior of the camp—giving the demons something to chase—and a chance to breach the perimeter. Flying wizards engaged the demons from the air, striking down as many as they could when they entered the camp, but they couldn’t get them all.

And the demons that got through, were doing damage.

From above, Ram saw mortal blood staining the sand as he watched the medical staff using blood-magic to help as many of the wounded as they could. Even from his distance, the number of terrible injuries was worrying.

One of the centaur priests was trying to break away from the battle to help with the healing, but the swarm was too thick around The Outcasts. Many of the demons seemed to be concentrating on the three centaur priests who were fighting with divine fury, using their shining, miracle-crafted bows. Their battle mages and elemental knights were also wreaking havoc on the demons.

And they weren’t the only ones.

The team with the four-armed golem and giant sharkman was also devastating, eliminating demons with skill, coordination and experience. The evil creatures’ bodies were littering the sand.

…as for Alex Roth…

He seemed to be another target of focus for the demons: they swarmed the young man while he danced, throwing them into each other’s attacks. Dancing in the middle of combat was one of the silliest things Ram could think of…but it was attracting demonic attention to him, and away from the wounded. Was that on purpose? Just like when Roth was in his class, Ram couldn’t tell if he was a genius…or a complete fool...or a bit of both.

Whooom.

He pulled his attention back to the horde.

More portals opened when demons fell, spilling a fresh crop onto the beach. Some materialised inside the camp and had to be dealt with quickly. He swore out loud: if the wizards teleported back to the city now, this unending army of butchers would follow them.

Everyone would have to hold here for a time…besides, who knew what was going on back on campus.

###

Baelin appeared in the botanical gardens.

‘Hobb,’ he thought. ‘I’m calling in a favour. We have a situation at the stadium that requires your special skills. Demons are running rampant there and that must come to an end, if you understand my meaning. Primary restrictions are removed.’

‘Of course, Chancellor,’ the polite, devilish tones answered in his mind. ‘They will be as tidied up as a proper ledger.’

‘Thank you.’

Baelin turned to the trees, listening to the crash of spell and demonic power. Speaking an incantation, he cast a spell of his own personal design: Teleportation Net.

An invisible field of power spread over the botanical gardens: if anyone tried to teleport out, then they would be in for a most nasty surprise. Through an act of will, his eyes changed, shifting to seeing a world lit not by light, but by heat.

His vision became a bloom of oranges, yellows and reds where things were hot, and blues where things were cool. Finally, he conjured a number of Wizard’s Eyes and sent them into the greenery.

“No more teleportation,” he said as he flew through the gardens. “No more invisibility. Come, you wretch. There will be a mighty reckoning today.”