Chapter 613 - 613: Night of the Demon Part One

Chapter 613: Night of the Demon Part One

[TL: Asuka]

[PR: Ash]

A full moon hung high in the night skies, shining on a dilapidated palace standing in the shadows northwest of the cemetery plains. Fallen beams, broken billars, grass, oak trees, and patches of flowers decorated the ground. This place was nothing but ruins, albeit lush ones.

Before the palace was a place hidden in darkness. A flight of stairs led down to an underground shaft. Echoes came from the shaft as night winds blew into it, like a beast gnawing on something in the darkness. Upstodatee from n(0)/ve/lbIn/.(co/m

In the camomile bushes standing on top of a nearby hill, a gaunt, armored soldier bearing a torch whispered in worry, “Heard that, mates? What the hell was that? We’re in the cemetery plains. Could it be...”

The burly man beside him smacked the back of the gaunt soldier’s head. “Shut it, you fool. You’re scaring yourself. It’s nothing but some stray cats. Or mice.”

Lambert was in the lead. He heard the little commotion going on behind him, and he rubbed his face in resignation. Dammit. All I did was point in a random direction, and it just had to be an ancient elven burial site. What kind of rotten luck is this? I hope Gaetan’s not in there.

Rorin pointed at a few soldiers with his longsword. Quickly, he ordered, “You and you. Sort out your equipment and bring your dimeritium bombs. You’re leading four teams for the attack. We’re having twenty soldiers guarding the burial site in case the assassin tries to escape.”

“Don’t be in such a hurry,” Lambert shouted. His eyes roved over everyone, his face tense. Solemnly, he said, “Rorin, soldiers, I’ve done a lot of field work. Ancient tombs like this are always rigged with booby traps, and the structures are, most of the time, unstable. If you lead too many people into it, you’re going to make the whole place cave in. Your soldiers will die. Also, elven tombs always have wraiths in them, and this is a big tomb. I bet my last coin there’s more than just one wraith in it. Have you ever seen a wraith? They’re invincible and can claw through you like a knife through butter. And their screams? They can burst your eardrums and give you concussions.”

He continued, “Even if you’re lucky enough to survive, you’re done for. You’ll be living the rest of your lives on a bed. Your whole face is gonna freeze up, and you’ll drool like some mentally challenged guy. Your family will be disgusted with you. Trust me, that’s a fate worse than death.”

Lambert’s threats scared the soldiers. Some were planning to back out of this operation. They were from Sodden, where the war recently hit. Nothing was more important to them than survival. They were only going to do the bare minimum in this chase.

Okay. All the stupid chats and brags I had with Dandelion were put to good use. “They’re only susceptible to a witcher’s silver sword or a sorcerer’s spells. For your safety, you’re all staying out here. Triss and I will check things out in the tomb.”

Rorin held his word with both hands, his face filled with determination. The knight ignored his blanched and terrified subordinates. Puffing his chest out, he said, “His Majesty clearly gave us the orders to arrest that blasted fugitive, or Temeria will be mortified. My men are ready to die for the kingdom. And the assassin’s more cunning than a fox. More treacherous than a viper. We have strength in numbers, so let’s each take a step back. I, you two, and twenty soldiers will be—”

“Something’s leaping around the pillars!” A soldier with an iron helmet shouted, “Ghost! It’s a ghost!”

The soldiers unsheathed their weapons and looked around nervously, spinning like uncontrollable tops.

A few soldiers failed to protect themselves. Their necks and faces were torn through. Blood spilled everywhere, and their faces turned an eerie shade of green, their life force quickly sapped. Before long, they couldn’t even hold their weapons.

With Lambert protecting her, Triss finally finished chanting her incantation. She swung her hands around, and streams of flames shot through the air, lighting the darkness of the night up. The flames washed over the bloodthirsty bats, and their flesh sizzled. Hundreds of burning carcasses fell like little comets.

Badly injured, the sea of bats screeched and retreated, hiding within the precarious rock formation and towering trees of the ruins. They were still staring at their prey, their bloodthirsty eyes gleaming in the dark. Before long, they would return.

“What the hell are those things? Everyone, pick up the wounded and tighten up our line of defense. We’ll retreat into the tomb.” Rorin wiped the blood off his face. He made his way to the stairs, roaring orders at his men.

Lambert objected, “These are no ordinary bats. They’re magical creatures. Something powerful is telling us to leave. Maybe a native of the tomb. Some of the soldiers are poisoned. They need immediate healing. I suggest we leave these ruins.”

“That just means we came to the right place. They might be the assassin’s accomplice! Temeria’s army has no place for cowards! We cannot leave like this! Come with me!” Rorin roared, and then to his surprise, a layer of mist appeared around him.

The mist started to spread at breakneck speed, covering everything around him in a moment’s time. All Rorin could see was a blanket of black mist. Not even the torch’s light could penetrate it. His companions should be by his side, but they were nowhere to be found.

Rorin held his weapon tightly. He roared, “Krauze? Ralph? Lambert? Can anyone hear me? Answer me!”

No answer.

Shocked and furious, he ran to his left. Five minutes later, all he saw was more mist. There was no sign of his companions. The mist was touching him, piling pressure on him, and slowly wearing him down. Eventually, the knight gave up running. He quickly scanned his surroundings and hissed, “Come out. I know you’re in there somewhere, you coward. Are parlor tricks all you know? Make it fast, or I’ll blow you wide open.”

“Are you calling for me?” A woman’s voice spoke from the mist behind him. It was sultry, seductive, and nasal. It was magical, enough to make someone heat up with anticipation to see the woman’s face.

Rorin turned around stiffly, and his breathing stopped for a moment. He saw a gorgeous, curvaceous lady with skin white as snow and hair blazing like flames. The lady was smiling at him, holding her arm out gently. The mist and darkness of the night knelt to her, like she was their master. Like she was the queen of the night.

Her lips were red as blood, her brown eyes like captivating whirlpools, sucking in all the resistance from Rorin. Infatuated, he approached the woman.

***

A private conversation rang in the darkness of the tomb. “I got my answers. They’re Foltest’s army. Dregs of the newbie’s past.”

“The metamorphosis is on the cusp of completion. It cannot be disturbed. Scare them off and wipe their memories. But the witcher and sorceress can be quite the menace. Queen of the Night, send your ladies in to welcome our guests. If they refuse to cooperate, get rid of them.”

“As you wish, Dettlaff.”