Approaching one of the towers in the breached wall, my guess about defenders holing up inside had been right on point. The small mob of my fellow demonic soldiers maniacally swarming the door made that much clear.
They were slamming fists and weapons against the reinforced wood with fanatical vigor, driven by the demonic command to get inside and slaughter everyone they found. It was like a brutal stampede. I counted two downed bodies that were becoming ash, and one demonic solder still alive but in the process of getting trampled by his comrades.
Instead of rushing in to share their fate, I carefully evaluated the situation.
The tower’s door was the only way to get access to it. The surrounding wall was imposingly high. I doubted I could climb up or flank around from another point.
What surprised me was the absence of archers on the wall, ready to pick off the invaders. In fact, despite the tower itself had various arrow slits and several windows, no one was taking potshots. The only glimpse I got of a native human was one pale, scared face peeking through a window, then vanishing.
I wanted to ask my fellow demonic soldiers what was happening, but with the frenzy they were in, getting a reasonable answer didn’t seem likely. I also didn’t cherish the idea that I might get swarmed myself. They could be harboring similar ambitions as the soldier who attacked me.
This left me in a bit of a dilemma, especially since my own murderous compulsion was still singing away inside my mind. It really didn’t like it when I just stood still.
I scanned my surroundings, keeping an eye out for a building that didn’t look like a simple house. It only took a few moments to spot one at the far end of the street. The building was large and blocky, more reminiscent of a warehouse than a home.
I power walked over to it. Sure, the doors were hanging off their hinges and several windows were busted, but I managed to convince myself that there might be a native person left somewhere inside. That satisfied the compulsion enough for me to be mostly functional.
I found a mess inside. Bodies of knights and other less-equipped soldiers, strewn about the floor amidst the piles of ashes and clothing that marked my fallen comrades. The building seemed to be some sort of shabby barracks, for out-of-town soldiers or just the less important ones. I couldn’t tell either way.
But that did mean it was full of useful gear and items, just like I had hoped.
A brief search netted me as much rope as I cared to pick up. The big prize was a spear made entirely of metal, lying on the ground near the body of a ridiculously sized knight who looked to have been killed by a literal thousand cuts. Even in death, he was still standing, wedged between two barrels full of throwing spears.
I also found and quickly snatched up several rolls of bandages, smiling as I used them to bandage my wounds and stowed the rest in my backpack. They were a much more sanitary option than old clothing.
With my new tools in hand, I quickly headed out. My fingers were almost trembling from the need to murder something, but I managed not to fumble my prep work too badly. By the time I was back at the tower, where my demonic comrades were still hurling themselves fruitlessly at the door, I had a rope bound tightly to the spear.
The window nearest to the ground was about eight yards above street level. Certainly too high to climb, especially considering the smooth, flawless surface of the tower. High enough for me to throw a spear through? Well, I was certainly willing to try.
Aiming with extreme care, I put everything my new body could leverage into the throw. The spear cut through the air, propelled by almost inhuman strength... and slammed into the wall next to the window.
The noise of its impact and the ensuing clatter when it fell to the street were enough to distract even the frenzied mob at the door, but much to my relief, they swiftly went back to their useless endeavor. Frankly, if they could just organize and calmly hack at the wood, they’d probably have made it through already. As it was, their desperation to enter was hindering them than anything else. And the locals probably had some sort of barricade already prepared on the other side of the door.
Retrieving the spear, I returned to my spot. Once again, I aimed, readied myself, and threw. The spear was headed for the window this time, but looked like it would slam into the top frame and get bounced back.
Then a native soldier poked his head through the window, just in time for the spear to plunge into his chest.
The man squealed like a stuck pig and stumbled away as I rushed to grab the rope. The murderous urge in me squealed with maniacal glee. Tugging on it with all my strength, I was rewarded by the sound of metal striking stone as the spear dislodged itself from my unintended victim and got stuck on the window frame.
I chose to rush them, snarling in rage, and redoubled my efforts to swing my sword in strong arcs. Naturally, the defenders retaliated, but I got lucky in the end. The knight had chosen to pull that stunt precisely because the tower was running out of men. I only had to put down three soldiers before the tide of battle stilled, and I found myself panting in a blood-soaked stairwell.
My limbs felt heavy, laden with blood loss and with the strain of everything I’d done. But I was still standing. Though I was still bleeding from a sizeable number of cuts, the wounds were clustered on my arms and legs. The only line of fire stinging on my torso was the one I’d earned from my fellow demonic soldier.
That line of thought reminded me to check on my downed ally. I found her struggling under the weight of the knight, who had managed to get in a single blow before she perished. Now my fellow soldier had a solid foot of steel inside her gut.
I couldn’t help her. I was neither knowledgeable about first aid nor inclined to try. I could, however, do one thing for her.
"Sorry."
I muttered the word quietly, but she must have heard me because her eyes locked on mine. There was just enough time for panic to flare in their green depths before I slashed her throat.
I left her choking on the ground as I stumbled down the blood-slicked stairs. Corpses were kind of hard to maneuver around, even if the defenders had tried to drag their dead comrades aside in order to clear the way up.
I counted a total of thirteen bodies. Thirteen lives that were now extinguished because I had succumbed to orders given to me by a literal demon.
I was too tired and numb to be upset about that, but I filed away the memory anyway. I’d hang onto it carefully, just so I could never deny my own sins. The thought lightened my steps, making it easier to reach the bottom of the stairs.
"Oh, thank the gods." The whimper that met me was pure relief. "I thought —"
The man cut off when our eyes met. Whatever he saw in my expression was enough to tell him I wasn’t a friend. He let out a choked cry, then spun and tried to frantically knock away a whole collection of furniture pressed against the tower’s door.
Three steps closer and a single stab. That’s all it took to end the life of what was probably a civilian. He stared at me with wide, accusing eyes as he died, but that was getting easier and easier to ignore.
Another look around confirmed it: I now stood in a tower full of the dead, and little else. There were a few knickknacks around, including a few bows and empty quivers of arrows. At least that told me why the defenders hadn’t fired at us, but I was still confused about how they could have spent all their ammunition already. There weren’t that many dead invaders outside the tower.
That was when my aching body really began making its needs known. As the knocking on the tower door subsided, I began to pry myself out of the armor to inspect the damage, working as quickly as possible. Despite the fact that I was alone and relatively secure, I somehow felt like I was stripping in front of a herd of lions.
My body really was a mess. I had four deep wounds that probably required stitches, and over twenty shallower cuts. I looked like I had taken a swan dive into a pile of very hostile cats.
For lack of better options, I quickly bound everything with my recently acquired bandages, then suited up once again. Every single cut stung something fierce like they were soon to be infected, but I didn’t exactly have some kind of disinfectant on hand. Besides, I was far more likely to die of a blade than an infection with everything going on.
With that cheerful thought, I made my way back upstairs, carefully looking for any sign of soul crystals. Irritatingly, I found not a single one until I finally approached the corpse of the demonic soldier I had killed myself.
She yielded two.
I knew for a fact that she’d killed at least five of the soldiers. The fact that I couldn’t even get the full amount of souls she reaped frustrated me. Still, the final count of my loot sent a jolt of relief through my body.
I now had a total of sixteen souls on my hands.
If I could somehow survive until the end of this madness, I was officially safe.