Chapter 515: Into the Labyrinth

Chapter 515: Into the Labyrinth

This time, the Whetstone Tavern was sitting atop a hill, surrounded on all sides by grass so tall, the stalks rose to Alexs chest.

The building looked more rundown than beforeor so it seemedwith lichen and vines crawling up the walls, and cracks running through the cyclopean stones. Yet, for all the aesthetic differences, it looked no weaker structurally.

And Alex doubted that it was.

Well, we aint in Generasi anymore. Ripp looked around, pointing out trees in the distance and a small village at the bottom of the hill. The buildings were so squat, and ancient, that their roofs were of earth, and greenery had sprung up on top of them. Where are we?

The answer would mean nothing to you, the chancellor said, a note of stress in his voice. He was garbed in a rich robe, and also wore rings and bangles that shone in the evening sunlight. Suffice it to say that we are very, very far from Generasi.

Well, Im not being paid to make maps, so thatll do, Ripp shrugged, nodding to four figures outside the tavern. I guess thats the rest of us for this little moving demon-feast?

Yep. Alex nodded to three brightly clad mercenariesand Celsus.

Guntile was the first to spot them, waving cheerily and jumping to her feet. The half-orc mercenary wore a costume of bright red fabric, covered in sparkling multi coloured sequins.

When she moved, it was like a rainbow had come to life. Right on time, boss. She said, stretching her shoulders.

Ezerak nodded, leaning against the wall. He was the least clothed of the group, wearing a simple bright orange loincloth of woven silk. The single piece of clothing allowed hundreds of tattoos to be exposed, covering bronzed skin, each depicting a fearsome beast, demon, monster or soldier.

The surface of his body looked as though an entire realm had been painted on his skin, and every image was so lifelike, it seemed they were ready to leap from his flesh and pounce.

It was quite likely that mostif not allwere ready to leap off his flesh.

A fine, curved sword hung from his waist, its hilt encrusted with diamonds.

Evening commander. The former king nodded, hoisting a heavy pack onto his back. I am ready.

As am I. Kyembe took a sip from a waterskin before leaping to his feet. Let us rescue whatever we are looking for from the demons.

The half-dark elf was dressed in a bright purple costume, complete with a blue cape that hung to his waist, and a grinning skull mask that wrapped his face. His crimson eyes were terrifying behind the masks skeletal eye sockets.

At his waist the ivory hilted, thin-bladed sword hung, and on his index finger, his ring shone.

The last mercenary, armoured and as still as stone, stood near the others.

Celsus wore no costume or uniform, simply sheathed in his usual armour and bearing a mace. The tall man paused, spotting Claygon.

A strange shift rippled through his body language.

Alex eyed him and Kyembe carefully as the two groups met a short distance from the tavern.

Good to hear everyones ready, Alex said. Weve rehearsed our parts, and we know what to do if things go right, and if things go wrong. So, any questions?

Guntile nodded. Do we have looting rights? Meaning, if we find treasure besides what youre looking for, can we grab it?

Ripp, Kyembe, Celsus and Ezerak all looked at Alex with piercing interest.

Yeah, go nuts, he said. Im only after one thing; you can take whatever you wantunless I get to it first.

Youre a good boss. Celsus nodded.

Very good, commander. Ezerak gave him a thumbs up. I already like working for you.

May our hands find many fortunes. Kyembes deep voice was bright behind his mask.

And may our pockets get so full, they burst, Guntile grinned.

Aye, and lets hope we live to spend it. Ripp finished.

The mercenaries nodded to each other.

It seemed theyd hit it off.

As the others appeared through the portal behind himhe had arrived first, as usualThundar began muttering his affirmations against the mania-field. Ripps breath hissed, the swiftling twitching and shuddering as he fought to control his thoughts. Guntile tapped her stones in a calming rhythm, while Ezerak chanted something low in a foreign tongue.

Celsus and Kyembe showed no reaction to the demon realm; the armoured giant never broke stride and the Spirit Killer was as calm as hed been in front of the tavern, giving Alex no cause to be concerned about the pair falling under the fields influence.

His attention turned to the exits: a host of twisting paths led deeper into the maze in all directions, each wide enough for a small army to pass through.

His nostrils flared: though the air was surprisingly fresh, it was tinged with the slightest hint of brimstone, blazing wood, and boiling meat. Alex sweltered in the heat, as far-off sounds reached his ears: a distant battle, cries for help and screams of suffering, a voice locked in utter ecstasy, the frenzied beat of a drum accompanying manic chanting and laughter, loud, hysterical laughter.

Far above, the fire-streaked sky was a roiling sea of orange and redflame had erased cloudsfilled with soaring, darting forms of flying demons. He also recognised the marks of civilization up there: his eyes were drawn to a magical carriage hundreds of feet above, pulled through the sky by a demonic wyvern.

The creatures feveredscreams cut the air.

Charming, he muttered.

Er, boss. Ripp nodded ahead.

Alex looked at the crossroads.

His hellhounds were tense, snarling at a troop of anthropoids emerging from a passageway. A troop of monkeys. A troop of giant, demonoid simians. Each resembled an enormous baboonat least eighteen feet tall, by Alexs estimatecovered in fiery orange fur, with bulls horns protruding from either side of their skulls.

And they werein abundance.

The largest dozen or so loped along the ground, with at least that many bounding across the walls, moving through the passage, spreading over flaming stone.

Diabnirei. Alex named them. Primal demons of mockery and anger. Theyre the hunters Baelin warned us about.

Big bastards, Thundar commented, readying his mace.

Ordersfather? Claygon asked.

Kill them. Leave none alive, theyre persistent so theyll chase us until the hells end to get revenge.

Time to earn your pay, lads and lass. Ripps hands blurred, extracting two hooked knives from his vest.

Ezerak snarled, drawing his blade. Guntile fished a handful of stones from her pouch. Kyembes sword seemed to leap into his hand.

A loud crash came as Celsus drew his mace, slamming it against the stone.

Agiant demon startled at the sound.

Oh! Alex cried. And try not to mess up your costumes.

An extra challenge. Guntile laughed, seeming to welcome it. You heard the boss, clean em up, you bastards!

With the roar of a cyclone thundering from his speakerbox, Claygon charged, leading the others into their first battle in Cretalikon.

Many, many miles away, Baelin stepped from a portal and into the seemingly boundless castle belonging to Ezaliel. Flanking him were two mighty engeliserving as bodyguardswhile all around, enemies watched the archwizard with unconcealed hostility.

Demons anddevilssnarled at him from each corner of an antechamber, grinding their claws on priceless gold and marble, seeming not to care.

The chancellor met their intimidating glares with his own gaze of disdain.

Apologies, guest of Ezaliel, a voice crackled.

Before Baelin, a demon suddenly manifested, one of smoke and ash coalescing into a humanoid figure with burning, ember-red eyes and ashen flesh. A fine doublet and hose covered its form, and it bowed; its manner formal.

Welcome to the halls of my master. The creature gestured to the nearest passage. You are awaited.

Then let us begin, shall we? the archwizard said stiffly, playing the part of an irritated diplomat.

From his mind, a call went out: I am here. Be ready to strike.

Planes away, the powerful consciousness of four archwizards touched his own.

They were poised, ready to unleash hell upon hell.