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Bloodsworn Ch. 7
🕑 Added 2024-11-01 02:56:57 +0000 UTC7.
Erak’s world dissolved into screeching metal and snapping teeth. Hot, humid breath washed over his face as he was forced back. He caught the first spear strike with his shield and used his own spear to force the second attacking spear off vector. The rapier came close, striking at the place where his shoulder plates met his neck. Erak jerked his head to the side and the needlepoint tip scraped enamel off his armor and slid past him as Erak kicked the weakest soldier in the gut.
The soldier jackknifed, bile spewed from its maw, chunks of flesh mixed with its yellow-orange stomach acid. Erak twisted his spear, rolling his wrist to lift his spear tip up and over the top of the shaft of his enemy’s weapon, and then he forced it down.
The purple point clattered against the smooth stone boulevard as the demonic soldier strained against Erak’s strength.
The rapier point came at him again, another long thrust aimed at his knee. The bottom edge of the kite shield clanged the rapier away from his knee while Erak stabbed the second demon, using the demon’s own spear as a guide. His spear ran up the length of the opposing spear and punched through the thick red leathers with ease.
Screeching in rage and pain, it whipped its head back and forth and tried to pull back as the spewing soldier slowly regained itself, stabbing weakly at Erak’s head. Erak blocked the blow and charged forward, shoving more of the spear through the shoulder of the demon, its screams of agony music to his ears.
Caster fire singed the second spear demon’s face. It pawed at its vulnerable eyes, backing away from Erak. The space was enough for a dozen more bolts to hit the demon in the space of a second, the soldier disappearing in a haze of heat and fury. The rapier wielder jumped back, clearing ten meters with a single bound.
The impaled soldier looked about frantically, suddenly alone. Erak smiled wolfishly behind his helm as he began to hammer the shield into the trapped demon. Bones cracked audibly, flesh was rent, and all the while the demon screamed. Erak was forced to admit that the higher level soldier demon was much more durable than the hellspawn at the museum. Seven times the edge of his shield impacted its skull before on the eight blow it finally collapsed. slain.
“Concentrate fire on the spear! Leave the sword to the Bloodsworn!” Nevia’s bullhorn voice roared over the chaos of the fight. The caster’s emitted no noise as they sent bolts of energy out. Erak’s own breathing was the loudest thing he could hear, much different from the battles of the past. No explosions or crack of rifle fire, just the red-gold heat of energy burning the air before scorching its target.
Erak put a heavy boot on the dead soldier’s chest and pulled his weapon free with a sucking sound. The rapier wielder looked at him with dispassionate eyes. Erak raised his spear in salute and began to march upon it, intent for blood. Erak felt the draw around him, the pull of Essence drawing on him as he began to desire the fight more than honoring his vows.
It was glorious. Euphoria and adrenaline. Life exerted to its fullest, where every breath reaffirmed that this moment was the greatest moment in one’s existence. Erak stopped, foot frozen in mid air as he forced him mind free of the temptations of Essence.
Weight, responsibility, honor, each of them a loadstone around his neck, grounding him as he rode out the high of Essence. Erak’s eyes never wavered from the demon’s as he fought back against the tide that threatened to sweep him away.
Rapier flashed a tendril of purple fire condensed from the atmosphere, darting toward Erak as the soldier retreated. The fire burned out as it hit his shield, lacking in strength to pierce the Rare grade armor. Erak’s eyes burned into the demon’s retreating back as it turned a corner and fled, lost from sight.
He looked over to the smoldering corpse of the second spearman. It was nothing more than charcoal, armor burned away as it lay in a collapsed heap. The pull of the Essence faded away as he stood there, the drive to kill and spill blood lost.
“Get that spear!” Nevia barked towards one of her soldiers as the rest of the platoon leapfrogged up the street by squad while Erak watched them. They moved quickly and efficiently, their casters swinging back and forth looking for a target as they closed in on him. They had found their confidence in killing the higher ranked infernal, like direwolves dragging down a mammoth.
Behind them the professors and Adjudicators came around the corner, hurrying up to not lose the the protection of Nevia’s platoon. Julius looked queasy as he stared down at the two dead infernals while Rutledge passed by without glancing down, her cane tapping on the stone.
“The runner is likely going to get help. We need to move,” Nevia whispered as she caught up to him. Her slight form hardly reached his elbow, but she moved with a warrior’s grace.
Erak nodded and lifted his spear, pointing down to the end of the street to where the wide boulevard ended. Dominating the end of the boulevard was a Hall of Justice, where many of the Adjudicators currently with him would have been stationed out of. The twenty foot tall doors were shattered splinters. Wide windows gaped open, black pits that yawned open invitingly.
“Erak. There are bloodstains all over that building. I can assure you, that building is filled with hellspawn.” Nevia looked slightly aghast at the thought of going into that five story building that dominated nearly an entire block.
Julius waited patiently to translate for Erak as he signed clumsily, cursing the bulky metal gauntlets.
“Lord Bloodsworn says that we don’t have to clear the building. Just cut through it. There should be an exit in the back of the building, one that will allow us to cut through a major part of the city and get much closer to the Armory.”
“Damnit. Adjudicators! Who was stationed at this hall?” Nevia turned to the handful still left alive and walking. They all raised their hands and Nevia sighed and rolled her eyes.
“Senior most Adjudicator, please step forth.” A thin man with a bushy mustache came forward, bowing his head toward Erak before looking towards Nevia. “How may I help you ma’am?”
“Is there an exit out of the back of the hall? One that will lead us closer to the Armory?”
“Two ma’am. One underground into the sewers. The other at street level.”
“Fuck.” Nevia dropped her head and all the soldiers close groused and complained, kicking at the stone and shaking their heads with vitriol.
“What?” the Adjudicator asked. Erak told Julius and Julius looked confused but explained without hesitation.
“The soldiers are superstitious. They believe since you mentioned the underground exit first, that’s the one we will be forced to use. Fighting underground and in tight confines does not appear appealing to the men.”
“Oh, it’ll be fine. The backdoor is wide. Loading bay door really, easy in and out.” Erak looked at the man and sighed. The Adjudicator had definitely laid a curse on them. It mattered little in the end. Cutting through the Hall of Justice would lead them to the Armory faster, so that’s what they’d do.
Erak started to walk.
