Eodem: a Rifle and Sword Adventure - Chapter 40

All is quiet in Tyr Rian just as Lehsol’s had finished passing over this side of Gliesia so she rests herself for another day as her younger sister Mayari arose upwards. However, she was feeling shy that night so her n.a.k.e.d self of l.u.s.trous glowing snow-white of skin was clothed in shadows. The city was about to call itself night and the only people who would be out in the streets at this hour were the local drunks drowning in the various watering holes, Citadel Guards assigned on Night Duty, and the Streetwalkers who cater to the formers. This night, however, was more perfect for about over one thousand individuals of ‘diverse backgrounds’ converged in Tyr Rian today as Radred had hoped from his networking of associates can muster. All of these Grey Order Adventurers, sellswords, and mercenaries had risked themselves for this journey into the Crossroad Citadel of Tyr Rian for one common purpose, the promise of extravagant pay and fame as Radred had charismatically proposed. Many of the nearby regions heeded his call either by admiration, desperation or a sense of adventure. The citadel’s gates are still theoretically opened to late-night arriving mercantile caravans whom some Adventurer’s used the cover of being ‘Merchant Guards’ to insert themselves within Tyr Rian’s walls little by little. It takes an early announcement and a considerable tariff to be allowed entry. For the rest, they inserted themselves either within the outskirts of the city by various hamlets that surrounded the Verden River Valley or had snuck inside on their own.

Many emotions of the Radred’s Followers or by their street name as ‘the Flagrant’ used on the gr.a.p.evine to attract the more devout of followers into this expedition, ‘the Salvation Crusade’, were mixed as the leaders were called forth in a delegation within a safe house inside Tyr Rian that the semi-crooked adventurer had sent an invite to. Each leader represented a particular interest of collectivized individuals who are participating in this auspicious Quest that ‘the Flagrant’ is at the helm at. Some were confident, brandishing themselves with a smug distinction as they psyched themselves for a good fight, others were nervous as they grasped their weapons to comfort their mental stability whilst the rest are agitated as the time stretched further jittering their hands as they wait for the fateful hour.

Speaking about Arms, Radred was glad that his contact from earlier, one named ‘Madame Gwathren’ came through with the arms he needs to stand a chance against these Otherworlders. A cache of Holy weaponry ranging from Holy Water-dipped conventional weapons of steel and iron, silver Elven swords in all of its graciousness, a crate of Demonsbane poison coating and a handful of master-crafted Actocolite-forged arms that the more senior of his retinue helped themselves with.

As Radred sharpened his new blade, he looks over the companions he had brought over from across the realm. In terms of groups he noticed several Orc, feline Mstari (or Leonidkin) and even some Eastern Desert warriors amongst those gathered alongside several familiar faces from the Adventurer’s Guild. Such as Ser Elmo Arfwisg, the adopted bastard son of a blacksmith specializing in crafting some of the best cuirasses in all of the land. He carries on his c.h.e.s.t quite literally his family’s honor, a Scandanite cuirass said to stop even the heaviest of blows. The next one, who at the moment is quite literally playing with fire his the notorious Pyromancer, Sioned Tanllyd, an individual known for her excessive use of her specialization and association with Rogue Mages. She was actually a former College of Magi student who was kicked out for torching a professor who gave her a failing mark in a class that did not involve the material deletion of said target of spells. To mirror her was the calm fencer of reputable tournament renown Steffan Arhyrdded, who’s dueling capabilities was a match for his provocative tongue. Another familiar site was the holy symbol of Neneth with the v.i.r.g.i.nal white robes of her Hippocratic domain. Radred saw a Paladin and a Cleric who are both girls, by their young faces they were likely newly ordained, perhaps at the same time as the Sacrament is often done in groups across all domains. It was also not uncommon for Clerics and Paladins to become adventurer’s too as they believe that they can best fulfill their holy orders of protecting the Gods’ creation by venturing around the realms as wandering heroes like the stories told. And what better way to fulfill their Ordainments than a Crusade? They all know why they gathered here tonight with ‘the Flagrant’. Whether for Gold, revenge or just the desperation of Radred’s good words, they gathered around the influential individual incessantly.

“Is it true then? Are these ‘Otherworlders’ you speak of are the Demons of old?” Elmo inquired.

“Indeed, based on what the local Guildsmen said, they were practically kicked out with the Demons doing all of the work for free.” Radred answered.

“For free? That is outrageous they surely must have asked for some price. Maybe their souls?” Elmo blinked.

“Indeed, it has gotten worse than I thought. Already their invasion is creeping upon the streets of Tyr Rian itself. I am glad and I cannot also believe we managed to gather here at this moment.” The gold-starred Adventurer confirmed.

“My worst fears…” the Blacksmith’s son humbly lowered his visor. “Everyone should get behind me when I lay up my shield. These Demon Attacks should be no match to my Armor.” Elmo c.h.e.s.t pumped causing his Scandanite cuirass to bang heartily. Its robust nature providing a sense of reassurance to the rest of the Raid’s leaders.

“Demons feed off of them, right?” Sioned raised her hand. She was a bit absent minded due to her rural nature but when set with an objective she becomes focused on its completion, no matter the cost.

“The larger the Dragons the more it must feed. They feed on the Tyr Rianni no? I burn them, right? Like burning farm field!” Sioned exclaimed.

“Yes, that is the plan. You all remember what is the plan I have discussed right?” Radred reminded.

Steffan raised his hands gayly. He was surprisingly laid back for someone who is about to commence a daring endeavor.

“We divide our thousand forces into two, one to the Demon Stronghold and the rest stay here in Tyr Rian.” Steffan said. “We fight, kill off as many Demons as we can before daybreak and then leave before the entire city realizes what is happening.” He said.

Steffan nonchalantly dismissed him, his interest being here was bragging right overtaking the head off of a Demon and nothing more. He will charge to the most intimidating foe his foe-chasing eye can lock on to and challenge him in pitch combat. With the help of his magical sword he should be able to stand a good chance against the Demon he will challenge for the honor of his dueling prowess dictates.

“Make off with as many of them and their Otherworldly arms as you can carry. Under the cover of night surely we can catch these Demons off guard especially with the reports I have gotten.” Radred smiled wickedly. “I will personally lead the men going to the Demon Forces and you Elmo will lead the ones attacking Tyr Rian. Burn as much as you can for the Demons and deny them their food.”

“How sure are you of your informant’s words?” Elmo asked.

“She is with the Crows. She showed me her ring and was with Mita when they first spied here. The Demons may be strong but they have their weaknesses and we just have enough to land a serious blow onto them.” Radred answered.

“Where is this ‘Outpost’ you say the Demons have inside the Citadel? Surely that there is a Captain of sorts who lives there.” Steffan inquired.

“The Tyr Rianni adventurers… or the sole survivors of them I am afraid, had said that it is at Arhaf Square. It’s very easy to discern it from the rest because of their flag. Look for a tall house that has a blue flag with many rings locking themselves together on it.” Radred said.

“What happened to them? They are supposed to be our guides into the city.” Elmo questioned.

“They were discovered but they managed to destroy any connections before the Demons could get their hands on them. The sole survivor, coincidentally the man I had entrusted to recruit the Tyr Rianni adventurers will do.” the Senior Adventurer reassured.

“I burn them all! I will raze them to the ground!” Sioned laughs maniacally. She needed to warm herself up before she released the innate inferno within her.

“No, focus first on the houses. The Demons may rush to tap to their power sources when they realise what is happening. Once they are weakened, we reap as many as we can before we make our escape. Mayari’s cloak should give us the best element of surprise.” Radred corrected the mad Pyromancer.

“Burning houses? When did we become ravagers Radred?” Steffan asked.

“These aren’t people anymore. They have sunk deep into the hearts of the Otherworlders and they cannot escape. They are all eternally damned.” Radred reminded.

The room felt silent upon the Gold Adventurer’s dehumanizing words. There was a hesitancy that emitted in the air upon the prospects of burning a home down in no different to the terrorist acts inflicted on bandits and steppe raiders. Most people were content with fighting a few ne’er-do-wells and exploring a long-forgotten tomb but arson was such a tall order.

“Look, everyone. Listen.” Radred raised his voice. “What we accomplish here tonight will echo down the ages. People will sing of our daring heroics, shower us with gold, and we will be all remembered as the people who stemmed the Demon Tide! Tonight, the Demons shall know that they will never again breach our homes and take our souls ever again!” Radred boasted.

“Well then, its Death or Glory now? Shall we all?” Elmo stood up and rallied the rest of the gathering.

Everyone nodded, stood up from their seats, and with their marching orders in hand, they dispersed quietly. Radred and a few of the non-human mercenaries quietly exited Tyr Rian under their guise as mercantile caravans, their cargo being other warriors smuggled in with their weapons at the ready to avoid suspicion. Elmo, Steffan, and Sioned led the other half of their cobbled-together army and led them to Arhaf Square where the Demon Outpost is. They quietly ran around the citadel, activating and mobilizing the various hidden cells of those disenfranchised, desperate, or feverous who held a mutual animosity against the Federation who had as they claimed ‘wronged’ them. Armed to the teeth with conventional and exotic weapons they quietly slaughtered any of the Citadel Night Guards who they encounter to prevent discovery of their hostile plan. At a certain point, Sioned and several Mages broke off with a contingent of a hundred plus men-at-arms to head towards the residential areas of Tyr Rian to ready themselves for their own designs whilst Elmo and Steffan continued on towards the rest of the dormant Cells. They awaited the signal to commence the assault when the insurgent force reached critical mass and then arriving at their final destination of the ‘Demon Stronghold’, the Federation’s Embassy, formerly the Bandit Lord Devicco’s Manse.

Little did they all know, that their element of surprise was all for naught as an invisible Raven read their every move.

“Sentinel, you have over five-hundred unknowns moving towards your position.” ISAC’s monotone voice informed.

The chief of the UFE Embassy’s Security Detail codenamed, ‘Sentinel’, dosed off from his half sleep to grab his radio. Tonight was a quiet night inside for him and his men, most of the Embassy’s lights have been turned off to conserve power to the generator until their next shipment of goods that will be used for the final push to retrofit the UFE Embassy into a Diplomatic Compound much to their suited standards. This leaves the former Devicco Mansion to be no different in outward appearance than the many padlocked establishments and residentials across Tyr Rian tonight.

“Say again?” Sentinel asked the Combat AI ISAC known as the Intelligent System Analytic Computer to repeat himself.

“You have approximately three hundred unknowns approaching your position fifty meters at Herald Door’s nine-o-clock,” ISAC added as he displayed a live feed of ISAC’s UAV spying on the approaching mob in front of Sentinel’s computer screen.

It was dark tonight and the UAV had to tint the screen emerald in Night Vision mode to allow the voluminous view of the large group of unknowns menacingly approaching the Federation’s Embassy. The Mob was highlighted in red by the AI’s smart design as Sentinel looked on with horror. He saw the natives walking stealthily as they could through the streets in an asymmetrical fashion, no heraldry or tags to identify who their attackers are, and worse of all, their primitive iron weapons openly drawn out to taste the cold night air.

Sentinel had heard of the possibility of an attack on the Federation but the intel wasn’t sure of the location or who is their target. To his dread, whomever these conspirators were, they are going to attack the very domain of the Federation’s power in Tyr Rian, the Embassy, or ‘the Mansion’ as joked by himself when he had first arrived on his contractual assignment here in Gliesia. They did outfit the Embassy with several security features such as a reinforced perimeter wall, a new Security Gate with magnetic locks that is (theoretically) impossible for any of what the Gliesians have to breach through conventionally, double layered security glass that’s resistant to impactful penetrations and some elemental intrusion, and lastly to put the cherry on top a .50 Caliber Auto-Turret fondly called ‘the Teacher’. However, not all of the Embassy’s security features are at full operational capacity. The security glass only partially protects all the windows in the Mansion and the full shipment of ammunition for the Auto-Turret wasn’t scheduled to arrive until tomorrow morning. There at least twenty-one guards, Sentinel included, plus a few overnight staff members of the diplomatic detail inside the embassy tonight.

“Everyone! Defensive positions! Front now!” He ordered his men.

The armory lit abuzz with activity as the Embassy’s Security guards armed themselves with Rifles, LMG’s and Shotguns as they from the first to the third floor manned their positions as the menacing mob of warriors approached Arhaf Square.

“Shit just got real.” Sentinel cursed.

“Ehya…Ehya… this is… this is…” the lethargic voice of Colonel Jan Polonsky echoed on the Security Chief’s earpiece. “This is Shield Father. I was just told… of the sitch… eh…” he spoke, his loose lips betraying his still half-awake state.

“That raid is for real Colonel. I got hostiles approaching our position as I speak.” Sentinel briefly explained.

“Can they see you?” the Colonel asked.

“No, sir we got Night Vision on.” Sentinel said. “Rules of engagement sir?” he asked.

“Sentinel, they are at Mirrien’s Tavern now.” One of the Security Chief’s men added.

The mob, crouching down or going prone, slithered their way passed the abandoned market stalls of Arhaf Square as they continued their sub-rosa approach of the Embassy.

“Shield Father, do we engage sir?” Sentinel asked.

“Hit them with the Flood Lights when just about they are to attack. Draw them in. Let’s see if we can just scare them.” Polonsky ordered.

In war, it is not enough to just slaughter more opponents than your enemy based on the Colonel’s experience but it is to sap their will to fight any longer is how one can win the fight. If one put’s themselves at an advantage to raise himself above his adversary or the opposite of removing the advantage that tipped the scales back into your favor is enough for the opposing forces to fold then he has one not only the war but also the socio-political intrigues behind the scenes who scour with merciless subjectivity on one Commander’s choices. Getting these conspiring Adventurer’s to realize they lost their element of surprise can possibly cut the head off of this conspiracy once and for all.

“Rodger that.” Sentinel said. “Nathaniel, get the lights now.” He ordered one of his men.

The Soldier named ‘Nathaniel’ quickly dashed towards the Power Generator at the back where the switches for the Flood Lights, were kept.

“Don’t shoot unless fired upon.” Polonsky said.

“Hit it!” Sentinel ordered.

Nathaniel pulled down the switch as the floodlights drowned the night’s blanket away, exposing the Adventurers who staggeringly covered their eyes from the sudden illumination.

“This is the United Federation! Drop your weapons and raise them up!” One of the Embassy’s Security guards shouted.

Their element of surprise and their hearty excitement for blood was instantly liquidated in a span of a few seconds as the Grey Order Guildsmen either froze in fear or tried to hide from the Federation’s gaze. At that moment none of them know what to do except for one man, dressed in an ostentatious silvery-blue armor etched with glowing runic sigils along its contours. The Armored Individual raised his shield up to the air, his fist defiantly towering above the Otherworldly challengers.

“You will not take our lands or our freedom!” the imposing man yelled. “Shield Wall!” he rallied.

Those adventurers, over thirty of them, who armed themselves with the sword and the board gathered around him and locking themselves together on each adjacent side formed a shield wall bent backward to accommodate whatever skirmishing fire these ‘Demons’ wished to spit out at this brazen act of rebellion. Several of the more fragile of his companions, ranging from roguish archers, feisty mages, and just about anyone who can throw a rock really far upwards, began to pepper the Embassy’s façade with a mixed barrage of magic, handcrafted and improvised projectiles. Sentinel’s men lay off a cold sweat as they hugged themselves to their fortified positions.

“Big mistake,” Sentinel smirked. “Nat, turn on the Auto-Turret now.” He radioed in his subordinate once again.

He reached into his pocket and grabbed his tablet. Turning it on, he assumed control of the now online ‘Teacher’. He needs a few precious seconds before the new Turret is fully boots itself up.

“Face us if you dare! My Armor and the shields of these brave souls draw our line in the sand.” The Armored Individual challenged.

“Lay down your arms now!” Sentinel gave his final warning just as he managed to attain full control of the Turret.

“Come and take them!” the Armored Individual taunted.

The rest of his protected accomplices continue their childish assailment on the Embassy.

“Your choice.” Sentinel cursed.

With a flick of his fingers, Sentinel roared the Turret to life as its Gatling barrels whirled away unleashing a millennial-counted lash of .50 Caliber rounds upon the insurgents. Upon impact, the bullets easily pierced the primitive shields and armors of those insurrectionists, sometimes piercing through their bodies to their more fragile but ultimately insignificantly protected compatriots. For the Armored Man himself, his special armor of Scandanite only partially absorbed all the blows at the first barrage.

As he looked on this fellow shield brethren, they lay dying aside him much to his shock. But he still refuses to relent. Coughing up the dust, the Armored Individual leading the assault continued to issue his challenge from his exasperated state. To his bewildered dismay, he peeked over the handguard behind the protected-from side of his shield to see that there was blood, the crimson red blood blemishing his silvery-blue gauntlets and a hole from his exotic scale shield that was designed to stop nearly anything that Gliesia had to offer for it to be sanctioned with, magic or not. The Otherworldly magic of these Demons had pierced through his shield and his armor, striking a mortal blow at Elmo’s heart. A capacious rupture on his b.r.e.a.s.tplate mixed with chunks scrapped metal, flesh and his own blood grisly clarified the arrogant armorsmith his own mortality.

“I—Im… possible…” Elmo collapsed as he drowned dryly on a pool of his own blood.

What kind of magic was capable of piercing through Scandanite Armor so effortlessly?

The rest of his surviving retinue scattered away from the Embassy’s lamination, retreating back to the darkness of Tyr Rian’s shadows. Much to the relief of the Embassy’s security detail.

“I think they got the message. Report this mess. F.u.c.k…” the Security chief sighed.

Was that the whole Conspiracy already? It’s best shot? Cut down into ribbons so effortlessly by the Auto Turret’s breath? He doesn’t expect much from these dissidents due to how primitive their communication lines were with each other in conjunction to their crude means of defiance as displayed earlier.

“What the hell?” Sentinel commented when he caught a faint glimmer that tore him away from relief’s sweet embrace.

Looking over the far side, atop the rooftops of Arhaf Square’s architecture, a faint orange glow arose above them. It was warm yet ominous, appearing at several differing instances from his half-circle view of the Tyr Rianni City Centre.

Having his own suspicions, Sentinel quickly turned back to climb the stairs leading out to the rooftops of the UFE Embassy where the .50 Caliber Auto Turret rested, its heated barrels, fresh from slaughter.

To Sentinel’s horror, the orange glows weren’t just some luminous phenomena he had never seen before that the natives say can occur spontaneously at nights, but something much more sinister. He saw, from the reflection of his googles tongues of fire that arose volcanically above Tyr Rian’s skyline. The scent of burning ash and the distant screams of terror besieged his senses as more of these blazing eruptions sprouted forth at even more distant areas covering the Citadel of Tyr Rian.

“Shield Father, This is Sentinel…” the Security Chief gulped.

“This is Shield Father. I know.” the Colonel bluntly confirmed. “I can see it from here and they are here too!” he answered.

A dissonant background static of firefighting and loud crashes of shockwaves echoed on the radio’s speaker.

————————–

“Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!” a booming voice dragged Lieutenant Samantha Rose from her sleep.

“Ahh! Wha—?” Samantha kicked and screamed as she was violently awoken. Normally there would be a gentle bell ringing that signified 8 am which she would start the day with a quick morning exercise routine before breakfast. That followed by her usual day in the Science Lab doing tests or magic lessons with Aliathra and Iris.

“Lieutenant Wake up!” Major Holyfield opened the door to her quarters, quite unusually amusing enough wearing in a pair of purple pajamas with white stripes whilst carrying with him two pieces of luggage: an elongated briefcase with the Arsenal Fabriqué insignia proudly being displayed and Samantha’s own Tactical Backpack complete with her own personalizations intact.

If Samantha can historically recall, that company is one of the controversial CSP-owned Weapons Manufacturer’s. Owned by the ‘Military Industrialist’ faction of the Party who are disenfranchised by the Megacorpo’s incessant price gauging.

He placed the briefcase over a nearby table and opened it quietly.

To the lieutenant’s non-surprise, a Rifle come out of the briefcase. It had no speck to its aspect and gave off a sort of factory-fresh scent. Based on the straight forward magazine, its slightly heaving feint from the Major’s old arms and its elongated barrel, this knightly rifle hit Sam’s stock trivia in her head on the courses of the UFEAF’s arsenal.

“The FBR-97?” The Lieutenant guessed.

“Close Lieutenant. But not quite.” The Major rebuffed. “The Fabricated Battle Rifle twenty.” He excitedly smiled.

He held out the gun in front of her with his two hands showcasing the rifle to the young Lieutenant.

“Arsenal made a new model?” Samantha asked.

Holyfield quietly nodded.

“Indeed. The specs are that this FBR is the ‘Heavy’ variant, capable of shooting 7.62 millimeters of from the STANAGS.” he pointed to the magazine receiver. “Following that is a next-gen recoil mitigation firing system making it shoot accurately at a range of nine-hundred meters at a firing rate of seven-hun-fiddy rounds-a-minute. Shooting wise, its capable of pushing the limits of the 7.62 to be able to punch through 20 millimeters of anything solid.” He playfully c.o.c.ks the rifle “Lastly, all the plug and play all the Army Boys know and love from the SEAL’s to the Colonial Guards.” He c.a.r.e.s.sed the upper rail sides of the Battle Rifle as if his hands were cradling a delicate babe.

“That is all nice Major.” Samantha nodded with an embarrassed smile, not for the seemingly humiliating occasion she is in but more of the fact that both of them are wearing their pajamas together and the Lieutenant has got to say, the intimidating ‘Spearhead’ looked cartoonishly goofy in his purple with white striped pajamas. “But why disturb me at this hour? Its like? I don’t know… 1 AM?” she asked.

“In the vein of this new world and its culture. I am essentially ‘Knighting’ you. For in ancient times, kings would often knight brave squires if they have shown exceptional skill or shown to be ready for battle rather than all of the frilly-ass formalities… that I could kill for damn Pork Rib right now…” he muttered. “But that’s beside the point! I am Knighting you know with the sharpest spear in the United Federation’s grand arsenal to you Lieutenant Samantha Rose or ‘Asset: Meitner’ as the wigs call you to take up the banner of the Federation and lead us forward in this time of war. This FBR-20? Shall become your sword.” Holyfield said with a hint of prose.

“So, it is really happening? Operation Haymaker? Now?” Samantha asked.

“Not yet, but the natives are tenacious… much more tenacious than we thought.” Holyfield said.

Just as he had said those words, the emergency siren blared outside of Samantha’s room as the blinking and wailing red had turned the serene underground facility into a perturbed rupture as the sleeping scientists and their support staff scrambled out of their beds in the wake of this unexpected emergency.

“Are we being invaded?!?” Samantha exclaimed.

“Indeed. Sergeant Crocker is awaiting you outside of the facility with your Land Cruiser. He will fill you in the details but to spare you some thoughts, your off to Tyr Rian now. Lock and Load, Gear up and do whatever Magic stuff you did and beat them back.” Holyfield stood up and passed Samantha several clips of 7.62 magazines onto her. “You are now Stryder-Lead again Lieutenant.”

“What about you Major?” Samantha asked.

“I will head to the Command Center and coordinate the defenses of New Albany by rousing the masses,” Holyfield said.

“The attack is two-pronged?” Samantha asked.

“Yes. Me and your C.O. Polonsky will radio in soon once we get our bearings right. My Callsign is ‘Spearhead’, Jan’s is ‘Den Father’. Get out there and teach these barbarians a lesson.” Holyfield said.

“Rodger that.” Samantha saluted.

“And Lieutenant?” Holyfield paused her. “Do take care that Polonsky had to pull some strings to get you back to where you were before and the Rifle you have now. Do not make us regret this choice.” He said with stern tone.

Holyfield then dropped the backpack atop of Samantha’s bed and leaved her to get herself dressed. Inside the bag was her old combat gear from her c.h.e.s.t rig, beret, fatigues and boots. She quickly geared up in only a short span of a minute as she dashed towards the elevator with her new Battle Rifle and her Magic powers in hand.

“On schedule Lieutenant.” Crocker tapped his wrists as he greeted her upon reaching the entrance. Inside Stryder’s Land Cruiser was everyone else of the squad: Diaz, Kayin, Clay, Iris, Obed, and even Aliathra.

“It’s good to be back.” The Lieutenant said. “Clay! Sitrep!” she gave her first orders.

“Gladly.” The Radioman nodded. “Tyr Rian is on fire right now and we need coordinate rescue efforts.”

“We will be the front vehicle on a convoy to relieve the defenders of the Embassy. Remember Devicco’s mansion?” Crocker asked.

“Yes, I have some fond memories,” Iris smirked sarcastically.

“Anyways, the Security Detail dug in and we need to relieve them and hold the place since the road around it is vital for the evacuation strategy of the Native civvies in Tyr Rian. We are already coordinating with the town guard in evacuating everyone out of there whilst also taking out the fire with some of our Helitack crews.” Crocker said.

“How big is the fire?” Samantha asked.

“Multiple fires, several dozens of them sprouting out all over the City, caused by Adventurers by the reports coming from the Embassy’s Chief of Security.” Clay said. “We are on

“Adventurers? Why would the Gray Order do this? They are burning… people!” Aliathra jumped out of her seat to express her dismay.

“I don’t know Alie.” Samantha differed. “But we might find out today. Iris! When an opportunity presents itself, I need you to take a bite out of them. Eat up their memories and find out what they know.” The Lieutenant ordered.

“Oooh… I will find the most delicious of them to sink my teeth in.” the Vampire Witch sensuously acceded.

“Hey look over there.” Crocker pointed out.

Across the night sky distance, Samantha peeked over the Land Cruiser’s windows to see the protective wall that made up New Albany’s perimeter lit alight with activity. Gunfire and black powder bombardment from the combined arms of the Colonial Militia and the Marine Corps. Decimated an infiltrating force of these mysterious attackers who despite their bravery were simply no match for the Federation’s superior firepower. Their bodies dropped by the dozens upon the impregnable bastion of Colonel Polonsky’s defensive formations.

“Damnit! This needs to stop fast.” The lieutenant cursed.

“No time to waste! We have to hurry to Tyr Rian now!” Kayin informed her.

“What’s our opposition Sarge? How many of these people are we dealing with.”

“ISAC came through.” The Sarge dropped Clay’s radio that he had held onto during the start of the trip. “Approximately one-thousand of them split into two groups of five-hundred. One here in New Albany and the other at Tyr Rian. ISAC says that the former is already being routed as we speak but the Tyr Rianni Opfor is the most problematic.” Crocker said.

“What is up with their madness? They just keep coming but our guns simply tearing them apart.” Obediah sulked. He kind of felt sorry for all of these marauders. But then, he remembered how he protected his family upon hearing the sirens blaring on his neighborhood as he hid his wife and daughter on their underground shelter before he grabbed his guns and reported to Crocker back at the Militia Headquarters. He cannot feel sorry for people who would try to slaughter his family, his community and his nation even if they are unknowingly involving themselves in a lopsided affair.

Samantha felt sick in the stomach upon gaining her bearings upon the situation. These attackers must be very daring and very malicious if they are to attack the New Albany and Tyr Rian. Especially to also cut down the good people of that Citadel too? Burn their homes, slaughter entire families who were only living peacefully with the Colony astounded her. Whoever dare done this has no idea who they just awoke from its complacent slumber.

“So, keep the Corridor open and stop the fires,” Samantha confirmed with her second-in-command.

“Yes, we will need to take out the fires and prevent more from sprouting up. You and Iris can easily use some of your magic to put them out quickly, Aliathra can heal any injured that comes our way and the rest of us boys will kill anything that ain’t one of ours.” Crocker said.

“Affirmative. Stryder Group, lock and load we are going in hot.” Samantha bestirred.

“Literally.” Diaz chuckled to himself as he c.o.c.ks Ruiner.

The Land Cruiser entered the Tyr Rian gates not a moment later as the Quick Response Force sped through the streets upon the weary evacuation of the local Tyr Rianni. From bewildered nobles, overwhelmed guards and confused peasants, these people kept to the sides as emergency workers and lawful enforcers converged to bring order from chaos. There were several buildings who were either still on fire or who’s inferno was quenched thanks in part to the valorous townsfolks or the innovative industrial might of Federation Firefighters. The many folks were grateful for these ‘Golden Knights’ who braved the infernos to rescue their loved ones and prevent more material damage to descend upon the hapless Citadel. But even then, these infernos were like a hydra, extinguish one and two more will take its place somewhere else in the city.

As Stryder arrived at Arhaf Square, they disembarked from their land cruiser as the Embassy Security teams were fighting off another wave of their assailants. Their dynamic entry sent several of the abandoned market stalls and even a few of the attackers flying as their forms disintegrate upon the timely arrival of their mounted reinforcements.

“Slop these bastards quick!” Crocker roared as he unleashed suppressive fire from his machine gun.

The timely arrival of their cavalry relieved the beleaguered Embassy Security as fresh supplies, men and solace enveloped their position from their fellow countrymen.

“Great timing! I was told I was given Special Forces!” Sentinel cheered.

“Special? Oh… yeah I am… we are.” Samantha humbly smiled. She kind of like the lilt on that title for Stryder Group.

“Anyways you must be Crocker? The British accent, right?” Sentinel turned to the Sargeant.

“Yeah, tell me what did you and your men see?” Crocker asked.

“These people with their swords and magicks just came up to the Embassy and started trying to scale us. Thankfully we fought them all back. But then I noticed that there was more to this attack than just the Mansion.”

“Yeah the fires. Who are these people and what are they hoping to achieve from this?” Sentinel asked.

“Grey Order.” Iris said upon a considerable distance.

They turned to the Vampire Witch who was rather greedily and sloppily licked the fresh blood off of the dead invaders.

“Iris, don’t eat blood like that. It’s dirty… and… Adventurers? From the Grey Order?” Samantha asked.

“Yes, this ring here?” Iris pulled out a blood-stained ring from the corpse of a blue-armored man that Sentinel had killed earlier. “This ring is only given to Grey Order who have reached the Gold Rank.” She informed.

“That’s intriguing but more troubling. Why would they invade New Albany and Tyr Rian? Let alone burn it to the ground?” Samantha wondered.

“Is it because we drove them out of business with your Mercs?” Crocker nudged to Diaz, pulling his serene red jacket to provoke an immediate response.

“Maybe… I … but to be so pissed off that they would literally kill their potential employers just because we drove them out of business.” Diaz defended.

“I agree. That doesn’t make sense. Something else is going on here.” Clay nodded.

“Well whatever the hell is going on we need to stop those fires. I can handle the evacuation from here but we cannot allow these burnings to continue any longer.” Sentinel passed along his commentary.

The city continued to be set ablaze as eruptions upon flarings upon outbreaks of inferno’s continue to bring hell upon earth on Tyr Rian. Aliathra, dismay with disgust couldn’t believe that the Gray Order, a Guild of prestigious Adventurers who took up the sellsword to be the intrepid enterprise it was today be capable of causing such a brazen display of nihilistic cruelty. To think she had considered them a dignified institution.

“They cannot just be using torches to cause this much damage so fast. They must have a dozen or so Pyromancers at their side… likely Rogue Mages.” Iris pointed out.

“That explains how they can cover so much ground so quickly.” Sentinel nodded.

“People like them tend to not draw attention to themselves and only sell themselves for tasks that require a… minimal to ‘just don’t destroy everything too much’ use of their Magicks. Whoever these Pyromancers are must be uncharacteristically unhinged.” Iris said.

“I can see, so they are just mages like you who don’t fall under the College right? Or practice forbidden Magic such as your Necromancy?” Samantha asked.

“Not exactly,” Aliathra interjected. “It’s a broad term to describe not only those who are not part of it but also those who were kicked out of the Colleges too.” Aliathra explained.

“Oh? How can one be kicked out?” Kayin asked.

“Well, the College, outside of being one of only two legal institutions to house, train and control the powers of Mages, they are also quite competitive… as in cut-throat competitive.” the Elf explained. “You could also get kicked out for violating their rules or simply failing at your lessons. Many of students can avail… certain…’services’ if it keeps them from being allowed to practice their Magics legally… that and joining the Grey Order, but most prefer if they can help it to stay with the College than the dangerous life of an Adventurer. There is a sort of Elitist inclination the higher you go up the hierarchy of the College.” Aliathra expounded.

“Let me guess, its pretty Corrupt outside of the sparkly stuff, right?” Samantha confirmed.

She and the rest of Stryder walked up to Samantha’s side readying their weapons. Most of them stoically awaiting their next orders but listening intently nonetheless.

“Indeed, I have seen first hand back at even my own College back home what some students are willing to do… I… rather save it for another day…” Aliathra stuttered. “B-but what you need to know is that some of these Mages go Rogue so that they can practice their Magicks unimpeded. They tend to be ‘wild’ than the more refined colleagues.” She added.

“Well that just means we need to stop them right now rather than later.” Samantha psyched herself up she held her new FBR-20 and conjured some ice magic on each of her hands.

“Neutralize these flames by any means necessary,” Samantha said. “Iris help me with your Ice Powers kill out those fires subdue any of these Pyromancers that we can find. Clay be ready to coordinate the Helitacks on the fires me and Iris cannot reach. Aliathra if anyone you see gets injured; I want you to heal them. The rest of you boys, support all of what we are doing and takeout anyone that tries to stop us.” She ordered.

“Remember your training Ladui Rose.” Iris reminded.

“Yes, the Party is watching,” Crocker added.

Stryder group moved out upon the heel of their leader as they braved the Streets of Tyr Rian once again. Their heroics amongst the populace escalating to new heights as they encountered more of the ravaging Grey Order Adventurers who cruelly put many of Tyr Rian’s homes, property and establishments to the torch before disturbingly cut down any inhabitants that managed to escape in time upon being flushed out of their shelters. There was a mix of both humans, physically imposing feline folks, Orcs and even a few dwarves that are participating in this contumelious carnage with a side of infernal incitements. With their hearts beating with anger, their rifles emitting their castigation and their aura upon the winds of disgust, Stryder group cut down the Marauders mercilessly to the point that they almost forgot that they were encouraged to capture some of these Adventurers alive.

As Samantha had said, she and Iris went to work blasting cooling ice upon the raging fires that were left in the attacks wake, a reinvigorating steam brushed along their faces upon the fire’s quenching. Meanwhile those other fires that the more magically inclined members of the squad couldn’t cover was dealt with the coordination of Kayin and Clay as they radioed in the Helitacks to spray their fire extinguishing sprays on those bonfires. Meanwhile, Diaz, Obediah and Crocker rescued as many Civilians as they could, even personally getting their hands dirty with the Grey Order which was a very cathartic release for those three. As for those injured or maladies with burns, Aliathra, when not assisting Lieutenant Rose and Iris would heal upon her own two hands, take away their pain and urged them to flee to Arhaf Square where they can be much safer.

For the Elven Maiden, seeing the Grey Order mercilessly kill, maim and burn the innocent people of Tyr Rian upset her to highest degree. There were just too many injured that she was overwhelmed by their anguished cries. She saw burns, blood and bruises from the youngest to the eldest, the poorest to the eldest, human and dwarfen alike die in front of her in droves. There was just so many she could tend with her healing magics that she froze upon the sight of the corpse of a young girl’s charred remains who was held closely by her equally smoldered father who tried to protect her from the raging blazes of their now ashen home.

“Kill all of them! Praise to Neneth’s name that we gave these infidels her mercy!” one triumphant Grey Order Guildsman blasphemously cheered as he proudly brandishes the decapitated top of a defenseless boy before Aliathra’s distraught eyes. His face frozen limp in the mien of horror life force sapped away in from the guilty swipe of a blood-dripping blade, drenched in the essences of the innocents.

“You!” She gave an accusing finger to the blasphemous Adventurer and his posse of apostles. “You have no right to say her name!”

The Elf unsheathed her bow and with her superior reflexes and Ranger Training, humming a magic word to her bow, six magical arrows appeared above across the curve of her bow enchanted and now magically locking on to the six malicious men before her. Upon the release of her string, six arrows found their marks upon the hearts of the same six men who were hastily shot down before they could even take the initiative. There was fury, a righteous fury burning in Aliathra as she wasted no hesitation taking down the marauders with her Bow. Her eyes maddened with grief, anger as she wishes to clear this sacred temple off of the filth and make way for all that is wholesome and good to be able to live another day, through this nightmare where the Cleric of Neneth swore to herself that night she will be their shield from.

Upturning every corner whilst still keeping up with Samantha and the rest of Stryder group, Aliathra would passionately rescue as many innocent civilians as she can whilst cutting down those Grey Order who dare a finger on them. Like a Guardian Angel, her holy fury knew no bounds to those who fell by her hand that day and those few insurgents who had the fortune to witness but not be caught by her saintly gaze.

Meanwhile, it was a shooting Gallery for Diaz, Obediah, and Crocker who with their own respectable marksmanship skills kept their tallies of kills going as they suppressed the Insurgents through the thunder of their guns.

“Foul Demons!” an assertive voice reverberated on Obediah’s ears. “You there! The one with the long beard who cuts down many of these brave souls by the mere sight of your gaze! I challenge you!”

Obediah turned around to see a short-haired man with a pointed beard challenged the Marksman with his sword tip pointing towards him. To his disgust before his feet were the sliced corpses of even more innocent civilians of Tyr Rian.

“My blade hungers for the blood of you Demon folks! I grow tired of cutting down your sycophants and now I wish to test my mettle against you for I am Steffan Arhyrdded! The greatest Swordsman in all of Ysanigrad shall be your vanquisher and the one of the many Salvation Crusaders of the Grey Order of Gliesia.” the Swordsman introduced himself.

“Salvation? You call all of this Salvation? Is this some sick joke?” Obediah questioned.

“Be Silenced! I will kill you, then find the rest of your kinsmen and slaughter your entire bloodline forever!” Steffan galvanized.

“You wouldn’t dare hurt my family!” Obediah growled as he readied to draw ‘April’ from his pocket as he tensed his knees to ready to accept the trial of combat of this worthless excuse of a ‘man’ to his challenge.

“I will when I mount your head on my estates wall Engarde!” Steffan decreed as he charged towards Obediah.

But it was a fatal mistake, for the Swordsman brought a blade to a gunfight. With dead-eye accuracy, Obediah shot Steffan’s sword hand off causing a torrent of blood a fracturing of bone to detonate from its furrow.

Steffan collapsed to the ground as he grasped in vein his other hand to stop the bleeding of his severed arm. Obediah walked closer to him as dreadful tears and an angered frown paint itself on Steffan’s visage. The ironically disarmed Swordsman who was dishonorably bested by an equally dishonorable armament, the humble revolver, spat on Obediah’s boot as the ground quake as his adrenaline-addled senses reverberate on his slowly dying self.

“Well… what are you going to do Demon?” Steffan asked.

“This…” Obediah c.o.c.ked his revolver.

He may not be a soldier or would be a willing participant for a war but if anyone were to come after him and his family. He will show them a whole new meaning to the phrase ‘bite of more than you can chew’.

But just as the bearded huntsman was about to squeeze the trigger, Crocker intervened.

“Obed! We need him!” Crocker intruded.

“We need this sonuvabitch to die Sarge.” Obediah protested.

“He will after he tells us.” Crocker implored. “Iris! Come over here!” the Sargeant called out to the Vampire Witch who was busy extinguishing the last embers off of a once-proud tailor shop.

“You call for me?” Iris asked.

“Yeah, do your thing with your teeth with this f.u.c.k. I want to know everything he knows.” Crocker ordered.

“Oh, with p.l.e.a.s.u.r.e.” Iris happily obliged. She teased her fangs to the dread of the injured Swordsman.

Steffan noticed those fangs. A cold death by the hands of a blade was preferable to the deathly fangs of the Vampire kind, whose birthplace was where Tyr Rian’s lands lay upon on. He tried terrifyingly tried to wiggle away to keep his living blood away from the Vampire Witch. It is said that Vampires grow more esoterically powerful the more blood they consume.

“No! Stay back foul creature! You truly are monsters just as they say! You and your Sochairfuil are all monsters!” he cried.

“Hold him down Diaz!” Crocker ordered Vincent.

With both of their weight pinning the desperate and defeated man to the ground giving the Vampire Witch ample room to enact her profane ritual. She l.u.s.tfully c.a.r.e.s.sed Steffan’s nape with her snow-white fangs and upon savoring the scent of his blood from beneath the thin layer of skin, Iris unleashed her fangs upon the Swordsman’s neck, gouging his arteries and sating her sanguine thirsts avariciously. For one agonizingly long minute, Iris helped herself to the healthy blood of the fine specimen before her. Steffan’s blood, as vigorous as a prized stallion was delectable to her. Vampires of her kind had their tastes on what blood they prefer to consume but the general consensus is no different to how one would select which cattle is best consumed for slaughter. Not too fat, not too lean and healthy without any ailments or maladies that can disrupt the taste of the blood upon a Sochairfuil’s macabre appetites.

“Ah!” Iris released her straddle upon the now dried prune that was Steffan. The accelerated bloodloss causing him to expire as his body rails as rigor mortis and the warmth passion of enjoying the heat of battle has turned frigid.

She convulsed with an electrifying jolt of her body as the memories of the man flooded her mind for her to see. She sees visions of the Truth of the matter. To her utter animosity, the people that swayed Steffan and the rest of these marauding horde into Tyr Rian was none other than the Slaegian Empire. Under the guidance of the Prophecy of Geltagar’s Comet, they wished to pre-emptively attack, scout and despoil the Federation’s boons off of the Tyr Rianni out of envious fear. The Empire, wanting to hamstring the Federation or ‘Demons’ as they insist, they call the Otherworlders by famishing them off of their ‘Soul Feed’ who are the very denizens of Tyr Rian itself! Under the orders of a ‘Madame Gwarthen’ which means to an omniglot such as herself, in much more refined Vaikuri for the word ‘Shadow’ a codename disguised for an anonymous mastermind. This ‘Salvation Crusade’ led by the Gold-ranked Adventurer Radred ‘the Flagrant’ are the perpetrators of this heinous act, that in all official terms, such a ravishing attack on an Empire City would have been an ‘Illegal’ Quest in all sense of the words. The Vampire Witch was disgusted and aching beyond any sensation as she wobbled clumsily, barely able to stand upright as she her back by a nearby lamp post.

“Iris? What did you see?” Crocker asked.

“So much… so much I know….” Iris muttered.

“What do you mean by that?” Diaz asked.

“It is Souviel all over again.” Iris summarized. “The Empire, the College, the Grey Order and the Elves too. They wish to be rid of you because the stupid Prophecy they believe that you are the ‘Demons’ returning.”

“Them? Bollocks!” the Sergeant recoiled and cursed. “Why, I outta show them what REAL ‘Demons’ can do.” He cracked his fists.

Hearing upon Iris’ revelations made the blood of the other men of Stryder Group boil furiously. All they ever done to Tyr Rian was help and aid them in their day to day struggles and this is how the Empire responds? To their own subjects even?

“You know what this means right?” the Sergeant implicated. What else do you know?” Crocker pressed forward for more answers.

“Stop.” Iris placed her hand to buffer distance between her and the Sargeant. “I need a moment…”

The Vampire Witch massaged her temples to soothe the achings on her still dizzied brain. All of the stress of putting out the fires and sudden running over of her cerebellum has taken Iris to her mental limits. She was not so used to inhaling the fumes of burning buildings, nor was she prepared to see the panging anguish of the people of Tyr Rian’s terror over this catastrophe blazing around them literatim. In all of her dual centuries of only reading such events in her encyclopedic collection, it had not prepared her for any of this. A sympathy, something she never thought she could empathize was how she felt for the mutilated people of Tyr Rian that day and a newfound respect for the valiant local Volunteer Fire Brigades who shoves buckets of water from the well to quench the fires in support of the Federation’s efforts to contain the inferno.

With a new paradigm innately recognize within herself. Iris Cadohagan looked onto her companions, who gathered around to make sure she was okay. A familial warmth she had lacked all of her life finally being experienced genuinely from firsthand of the first true people she can call her friends. The Vampire Witch began to lighten up as she took a moment to take a breath.

“Damn, remind me never to take you out on an All you Can Eat Buffet for a date.” Kayin who sprinted to Iris upon seeing her stammered condition commented. He did saw a glimpse of Iris’ interrogation of the Swordsman on orders from Crocker and how she savored the man’s blood every moment as she took her sweet time-draining him.

“Not, as well as I regaled on you.” She smiled with a flirty lilt, Steffan’s blood dripping out of her beam much to Kayin’s embarrassment and chaff.

“Date? You a thing now Kayin? You and Iris?” Obediah asked, gesturing his fingers pointing to both him and rapidly back to Iris.

“Yeah, you can say that.” The Nigerian scratched his head.

“I am happy for you too. Don’t be embarrassed.” Diaz smiled.

“Where’s Samantha now though? The El-tee?” Crocker asked.

“Last I check she was with Clay who told her that the drones found some Tangoes that are causing most of the fires,” Kayin said.

“We gotta hustle up now.” Crocker rallied.

All of Stryder nodded as they followed the Sargeant to Samantha’s last position, though Obediah, before he sped off with the rest of his Squad, unloaded a round of his Pistol at Steffan’s corpse before spitting at him just to satisfy his familial honor and his own manhood.

Meanwhile for the Lieutenant, Samantha was sprinted pass more of the charred remains of Tyr Rian’s streets gunning down all that she saw participating on this bonfire. The fires around her soon broiled Samantha’s skin that instinctively the Lieutenant casted a ward that was taught by her from Aliathra that helps her body withstand being near scalding temperatures and allow her to press on through with less difficulty. As soon as she did cast that ward, Samantha soon realizes she is now turning over the very sources of all of the fire being invoked upon the Citadel. Lo and behold, Samantha saw a dozen or so Pyromancers setting fire to all of the buildings until all are ash, the screams of the trapped inhabitants crying in anguish to the skies which made the Lieutenant’s fist clench indignantly.

“You! Stop this!” Samantha pointed to one of the Pyromancers she assumes as the leader.

A literally fiery-headed woman turned around her, her dual-wielded Magic staffs burning brightly with her Azure Mana Crystals to contrast her cardinal blush. An Aura similar to the Flame Golem Samantha had fought so many months ago was what this woman presented herself to the Lieutenant.

“Look at all of this? Can you see them all scream? Hear the fire crack as all is made pure once again by Fire?” one of the Pyromancers said.

“Silence neophyte!” the leading woman ordered.

She stepped forward and showboated her blazing visage to Samantha showing how the flames harmlessly decorate her dress. It disgusted the Lieutenant that she is seeing a dark parody of herself within that Head Pyromancer. Holyfield and the party were right, if she were to lose control, she might as well end up like her.

“You must be one of the ‘Demons’ Radred speaks about. To be honest you don’t look too much. But then again, you I have never seen a Demon before so who am I to judge?” she said.

“Whoever you are, what you did is unforgivable!” Samantha raised her fist.

“Sioned Tanylld, Pyromancer extraordinaire.” The lady introduced herself with a playful bow. “I have been waiting for one of you Demon lots to show up. Grilling all these damned souls have been such a bore after a while. It is like burning insects. It’s satisfying at first but gets boring soon after.

“Your insane!” Samantha accused Sioned.

The Pyromancers collectively laughed in response to the Lieutenant’s denouncement.

“Insane? Yes I am! But even I know that destroying Tyr Rian will also Destroy you with it!” Sioned laughed along.

The Pyromancers soon began to charge themselves up with their Magical Implements to ready for their next spell.

“Now then, Burn in cleansing fire like the rest of your cattle!” Sioned declared.

Upon a quick reaction, Samantha conjured with her newfound powers an Ice Wall knowing ice beats fire, a direct counter to what she anticipates an infernal barrage from these hot-headed Pyromaniacs. Her training with Iris and the years studying in West Point dictates how she can easily predict an opponent. For such an empathetic set of individuals such as the Pyromancers, they were fairly not that hard to discern that all they could do was attack, attack and attack with Fire-based Magicks.

The Ice Wall arose from the ground about a few inches short tall of Samantha’s C.h.e.s.t when the barrage of Fire Magicks converged on her position. Samantha doved down and hugged herself upon the safety of the Ice Wall. Steam and melting snow were all that was created from the Pyromancer’s spells as they impact the wall. Upon, discovering their attacks were negated. The Pyromancers looked on dumbfounded upon the sight of the Demon Warrior that came to confront them was also proficient with Magicks too. Instinctively seeing an opening, Samantha took a page from the old classical show of Avatar, specifically the Earthbenders on how they would manipulate the very structural bending attacks to give off rock solid offense and defense. With her defense secured, it was time to fight back. Rallying up her powers again, Samantha willed herself to shatter the Ice Wall with her Mana-enhanced fists, shattering the barrier to glass-shard pieces before sending them flying like a buckshot of razors towards the Pyromancers. Several of them were killed instantly upon their bodies being punctured by the ice spikes that the Lieutenant produced. The rest took cover.

“Take this!” Samantha cheered as she aimed her FBR-20 at the hunkered down Pyromancers.

She managed to shoot down all of them except for the leader Sioned, for she casted an auric Fire Cloak on her person that negated Samantha’s non-magical projectiles.

“Impressive. But playtime is over now.” Sioned shimmied her ignited hand. “Flaming Bull!” the Pyromancer shouted.

Sprouting forth from the mad firebug’s hands, conjured an atronach. As its name suggests, a life-sized bull articulated by magic and constructed through fire charged straight for the Lieutenant. Samantha tried to shoot at the infernal construct but at the worst possible time, her FBR-20 clicked out, indicating that their was no more 7.62 millimeters in the magazine left. Alarmed, the Lieutenant strafed right with a well-time dodge roll just at the bull was about to gorge her with its magma-glowing horns. Using her Magic to feed more Mana to her Flaming Bull and controlling its movements, the Construct grew further in size until the heat it gives off near sun-like temperatures. The artificial animal turned around back upon missing its target to attempt for the kill again on the Lieutenant as Samantha stood back up.

Lieutenant Rose realizes she needs to think fast otherwise the Bull or the Pyromancer can get a drop on her. As she dodged the Bull’s charges, Samantha begins to think fast.The Lieutenant knows that she will need to kill Sioned quickly less she continues her mad arson spree and destroy more properties and lives too. Seeing all of the bittersweet flames engorge itself on her surroundings and her own exhaustion due to still being left ‘n.a.k.e.d’ without her proposed Hecate Suit, made the Lieutenant sense that she was slowly losing out on her mana. The corpses of Sioned’s fellow Pyromancers whose frames were ruptured to allow once-stocked mana reserves to leak out made were starting to become appetizing for Samantha to siphon.

An idea popped into her head as she decided to lead the bull towards the corpses of Sioned’s dead accomplices knowing she will need a considerable sum of Mana to pull this gamble off. The Lieutenant quickly raised her hand on each of the Pyromancer corpses and ripped out all the spilled Mana their corpses could take. Having siphoning the mana she began to charge her hands readying herself for a great release of energy. Electrical bolts and crimson heat gathered around her hands that made the Lieutenant’s hands carom with excitement, not just for the excitement of her high-risk but high-reward plan but literally she is making the Mana energy particles she discharges from her hands. Carbon began to fully burn out amongst the superheated energies as the crimson fire she conjured turned to a brilliant blue ball of light with electromagnetic energies sparkling slightly around.

“By the Gods…” Sioned commented as she observes the Demon Witch she faced.

The Pyromancer saw how Samantha desecrated the Mana Energies off of her dead comrades, a disgusting but pragmatic act that only the most skilled of Sorcerer’s can do since Mana dissipates rather quickly without a suitable means of containment, for example, a crystal or a person. At first, Sioned thought the Demon Witch was like those Sorcerers, however upon an observation off her right hand, she noticed the symbols on Samantha’s hand. It was written in Ancient Vaikuri, a language she had studied during her collegiate days, it was ‘Rhannu-Prietar’ or ‘the Share Holder’. One of the Chosen One Brands the Sacred Crystal Heart bestows upon people to bless them with great power.

“Y-Y-you!” she pointed a libelous finger on the Lieutenant. “Rhannu-Prietar!”

Ad interim, Samantha careful footwork managed to lure the Bull to align itself unknowingly with its controller, it was aimed just right that the Bull was trying to charge straight at her while the still flabbergasted Pyromancer was directly at her construct’s six o’clock. With the ball of siphoned mana at her hand reaching to supercritical point that if it stayed any longer in her hand, she would implode. One-shot was all Samantha needed as she went all in.

“Have a taste of your medicine you bitch!” Samantha yelled as she unleashed the superheated Mana energies from her hand.

In one brilliant cerulean ball of azure fire, the enthusiastic mana energies blasted through the Flaming Bull, obliterating it from existence from sheer demoniac power. Nonetheless, the Bull was virtually nothing upon contact as its power soon became one with Samantha’s as the sphere pushed across the battlefield and onto Sioned the Pyromancer herself.

“I-I-mpossible!” Sioned screamed as her frame disintegrates upon contact of the Blue Fire Samantha struck her with. In life, she always lived like passionately flame and ironically, the way she goes is through the fires and flames of another.

As the battle concluded, Samantha collapsed to the ground as the rest of Stryder Group rallied towards her.

“El-Tee!” Crocker fretted as he c.a.r.e.s.sed Samantha’s head and lay it atop of his collapsing knees.

“Sarge… He-He-He…” Samantha chuckled lightly. “Guys… I did it.” She turned to all of her squad who attended her.

“You did what?” Clay asked. “Wait— Hang on… Yes, Medevac at my coordinates. It’s Asset Le Fay. She has been injured. Yes now!” he radioed Command.

Samantha turned her eyes to Iris and Aliathra lay on her side. The former wiping of the blood she had siphoned off of that Swordsman from earlier and the latter applying soothing energy of her Restoration Magicks upon the Lieutenant.

“Iris… Alie… I did it…” She smiled.

“I know you did, and I am proud of you. You have to tell me how you did it soon.” Iris acknowledged.

“Save it for later… I need a damn nap… and maybe a Banana Milk Smoothie…” Samantha smiled.

The thunderous vibrations of Super Osprey became the only thing that the Lieutenant heard as Stryder Group taken her inside the Medevac and extracted away. With the Pyromancers, the main driving force of Tyr Rian’s incineration eliminated the infernal contagion was stopped dead in its tracks, the Firemen able to completely extinguish the rest of the fires that still burned through the night without worry of new ones sprouting their destructive aspects somewhere else in the Citadel.

The Helitack Choppers sprouting out their innovative weapons against the flame, a cooling foam and most peculiar to the natives a strange gun-like device that gives a sonic wave that although harmless to any humanoid folks, was fatal upon the flames making contact with the invisibile energy.

As metal dragons hovered above onto Tyr Rian’s smoldered remains a lone figure watched above the skyline.

“They are stronger than I have thought.” Lyndis, the Sefydliad Spymaster muttered to herself.

She had observed the ‘battle’ in all of its details and to see how quickly and easily these Otherworlder’s disposed of several Adventurer’s, Mercenary Warriors, and Sellswords of respectable renown. Normally the Empire would have trouble dealing with them or often to complement their role weaknesses in the Legion’s to hire several of them as Auxiliaries or Ategoliannei. But all were irrelevant to the might of these Otherworlders. It was little wonder how even the Elite Elven Warriors back in Souviel were so handily defeated by these Otherworlders that she was almost impressed by their prowess. But as Lyndis can conclude within the context of this upcoming war, a direct attack from Little Hill would be suicide for the Alliance of the Light, the Alliance between her people the Ethuilen Elves, the Slaegian Empire and Dwarves of the Ostalrocs, as Lyndis concluded. They will have to draw the Otherworlders out from the Empire’s Strongpoints and protract the conflict under home territory if they are to stand a chance.

However, this doesn’t yet explain how to actually defeat the Demons. They possess both superior physicalities under their humanoid guises whilst wielding mighty arms and beasts that thunder upon every strike or step those machineries make. If Lyndis can somehow gather her hands on some form of research material than perhaps the Alliance of the Light might be able to reverse the means of being able to genuinely fight back when they had so far failed to. There was still no events of the Demon’s devouring the Souls of the humans they held in bondage over here in Tyr Rian, but it is likely they are saving them for the big assault against the Alliance once they make the trek over the mountains and into the Empire proper.

Upon her own reasoning, the Otherworlder’s might think that this raid conducted by Radred ‘the Flagrant’ might have been just their one and only time opportunity to attack them before they could fully mobilize so Security should lax just enough for Lyndis to finally move inside the belly of the beast and extract some useful bits of information to salvage her little failed experiment. Those little Demon ‘Imps’ that some of the larger ones often escort around might work best for an ‘acquisition’ of as Lyndis had initially observed on her few scouting missions. The Demon’s must have their own growth cycles to further saturate their numbers and they start with these tyke-sized Imps. Additionally, it was much easier to bring home a live subject that she can easily carry on horseback without too much of a fight if she were to capture one of these whelps off of Tyr Rian than one of their fully grown warriors. She and likely the rest of the College of Magi will have many plans for experimentation and dissection upon acquisition of a live test subject. It wasn’t much but it is a good start to base their plan of fighting this invasion upon. For one of their Demonic arms however, that can be a bit of a challenge but the Sefydliad Spymaster is ready to improvise or abandon the prospect of acquiring as she believes know how to hurt the enemy might be more important than how the enemy can hurt them.

She stood up and then turned around, still blanketed by her invisibility cloak but just as she was about to leave, Lyndis caught someone familiar with her owl-sharp eyes. A familiar blonde maiden with leaf pointed ears traveling in concert with the Otherworldly Demonic Warriors and a Sochairfuil.

“Princess? You are truly one of them now. I will have no choice but to see to end your life as your family… your former family’s honor dictates. Who knew you were such a weakling after all? You treat the Demons and that vile Vampire like they are your friends much like how much of a pampered little puppy you were and really are. To sell your soul for worldly companionship?” Lyndis mocked and one final comedic laugh for the night.

She then promptly disappeared, dashing back to her secret camp in the Verden River Valley Forest to acquire a certain stock of something she managed to smuggle into Tyr Rian’s borders that might be just what she needs to pull this mission off. She will also have to send one more Tweeter Bird message to tell to Emperor Uldin and Mita the Crow of her findings. Though due to some limitations to the spell, she will have to speak in code to relay the intelligence and her suggestions as the spell has a limited capacity to hold enough words in.

“Soon, I will know every little secret of yours.” Lyndis schemed.

————————-

Radred ‘the Flagrant’ awoke sluggishly upon the combined sensations of what he can discern is a light pecking on his head and Lehsol’s gaze finally arising to greet her subjects in her n.a.k.e.d self once again as morning began. The jostling of a few scratches of his face plus the blinding radiance of Lehsol made him realize that he was very much still alive and also he was being pecked by a vulturine Murcrow, coming to peck a few pieces off of him for an easy meal. The dark green bird flew off of Radred as he slowly rose up from the soft pile of…

“Ahh!” Radred gasped as he realizes that what he lay upon was a heap of corpses, corpses of those brave souls who followed him to the Gates of the Demon stronghold in Tyr Rian.

Their faces were frozen in either peaceful calm or petrified terror that neither sight of which comforted the Gold-ranked Adventurer. The corpse pile was laid upon a dug hole as if they were about to be ready to be buried en masse to the soft earth that was Neneth’s flesh. Radred hurryingly climbed out of the pile of corpses but unknown to him he was greeted by a more macabre scene. There were more mass graves of his fellow Adventurer’s stacked high in their grisly remains of exploded body parts and shredded flesh as the scent of death and dried blood filled his lungs with terror. He saw Human, Orcs, Mstari, and Dwarf dead lay messily atop each other like bundles of hay as great iron machines that belch a disgusting smoke plowed them like dirty to the mass graves that awaits them.

Radred’s ego was offended to no bounds, he had never failed a quest in his entire career ever and all of the reputation, the riches, and associates he had fought tooth and nail for would fall away from his fingers now that he comes home empty-handed. Earlier that night He would rather die in this godsforsaken ground than face the music of humiliation. Earlier that night was an absolute disaster. Upon chancing on the first patrol of Otherworlder’s he and his men encountered, they were absolutely torn to shred by their black colored staves and crystal towers that thundered flashes of fire that flickered their forms into the dark new moon last night. All of his Adventurer’s tried as they might to fight back but their combined arms were simply too overwhelming to bear like a flood that crashes down upon a village, they decimated ‘the Salvation Crusade’. Last that Radred remember was the ground erupting before him before he fell into unconsciousness.

But just as the Adventurer was about to commend his spirit, he had heard some footsteps that trembled the ground not too far away from him. Laying still to pretend he is one of the dead but not certainly among them. Radred looked on as a man in a blue clothed waddled his way up the mountains of corpses.

“H-h-help me…” a feeble voice of another alive but much more injured Adventurer that had accompanied Radred in his ‘Salvation Crusade’ grabbed the blue clothed man by his feet.

The strange man didn’t respond any words, only picking up a small and unsually shaped sidearm holstered on his waist and aimed the gizmo like a wand of sorts to the injured Adventurer. In one loud thunderous crack of his strange wand, the injured Adventurer collapsed now finally amongst the dead. In the wand’s wake, the Murcrows flew away fearfully upon the sound of the blue clothed man’s wand.

Radred wondered, that perhaps that wand of his is a powerful weapon of sorts as he have seen last night that his fellow Otherworlder’s like him wield to decimate his men.

He quietly followed the man until the Otherworlder stopped to over look the desolate scene before him, his wand holstered at his side whilst the man covered his eyes from Lehsol’s glare with his two hands. Sneakily, Radred grabbed the wand from the man with the skill of his sleight of hand and dashed away.

“Oi you!” the blue-clothed Otherworlder turned to yell, realizing he has been pickpocketed.

The chase is on as Radred, with a dozen meter head start tumbled down the mountains of corpses of his fellow adventurers lay on. He skipped along with the bodies of his comrades whilst weaving pass more patrols of similarly blue-clothed men as he finally makes it to a green glade where he can easily hide amongst the trees.

After getting some distance among the tree’s Radred observed the treasure he had obtained.

It an L-shaped wand of sorts with very intricate steel engravings. Upon closer inspection, the Gold-ranked adventurer notices that the wand is actually composed of many separate components that are connected together by joints and some screws. The sort of craftsmanship only the most advanced of Blacksmith’s can replicate that perhaps if given to them, might be able to indeed reproduce these wands for Alliance of Light’s mages to use against the Demons.

Radred felt smug upon realizing he can still salvage this mission by returning back home with this single loot. He can demand a significant premium to compensate him upon turning in the strange wand to the Mages College for research since he is likely the only fruitful survivor of this ill-fated attack that was more of Suicide Mission than anything else. If he ever encounters that ‘Madame Gwarthen’ again he will show her a piece of his mind and the vengeful scorn of all of his fellow dead Adventurers.

He fiddled with the wand a little but he unknowingly pulled down a thin strip of metal that activated a mechanism within the device’s intrinsics whilst the wand’s shooting tip faced him. A bright flash of light and a loud bang immediately followed as Radred limply crashes down to the glade’s grass filled floor as his spirit expires.

He was never destined to ever complete his quest.

———————–

“Damages?” Governor White asked solemnly.

“581 deaths, 600 or so injured and about half of the City burnt down.” Thomas reported.

“Lord Almighty…” he sunk down to absorb all of that information.

The Governor with the Ministry of Education wig was with Major Holyfield and Lutheor Mirrien observing the post-disaster disposal of all the debris and waste throughout the Citadel, both material and human. There was the wails of widows, mourning orphans and distraught other folks throughout the citadel as the local temples declared just this morning a full week of lamentation for all that was lost.

“Any… Significant damage?” the Governor asked.

“I am afraid we do.” Lutheor raised his child’s length hand. “I was told that Princess Aria, Clovich’s sister has been knocked out when she was attacked by an Ogre that one of those raiders brought with them. Tried to protect a family herself but she and her bodyguards got more what they bargained for. Thankfully some of your men came in and managed to save her and her retinue before something horrible happens. She is alive but needs to ‘sleep a lot according to your apothecaries. I think they call it a ‘Koh-ma’.” the Dwarf Merchant said.

“Damnation… That is still bad either way for the Prince’s Sister.” Thomas tightened his fist in frustration. “Clovich’s reaction upon hearing of all of this can go either way for us to all of this, he will not be happy no matter what we say. What are our options?” he said to Jeremy.

“I can put a good word for all of you that you managed to help out many of the folks here when the fires happened when the Prince does return back from his ‘long journey’.” Mirrien butted in.

“That is welcome.” the Governor gave his gratitude.

At this moment, all of their previous engagements in diplomacy to the contacts they have made are now put to the test. A friendly gesture of commitment and acknowledgment to a few influential token pieces on the Grand Strategic board is priceless right now.

“Well Holyfield, looking at all of this… I say we have our Cassus Belli now are we correct?” the Governor turned to Holyfield.

“Major? You are quiet right now.” Thomas Sight turned to Holyfield.

For Major Benjamin Holyfield, he only stared blankly at all the destruction that Tyr Rian had endured last night. From the safety of his Command Bunker, he still had night terrors of all the barbarous and cruel acts that were happening during those 130 minutes of sheer anxiety which was the duration of the entire attack on both the Principality and the Colony. He could only imagine not just the screams of terrors but the marauding laughter of power the savages had done to all of the good folks of Tyr Rian. It made his blood boil that these people would be so daring and so cruel enough to do such a misguided thing. From the reports of Iris Cadohagan’s findings, these savages wanted to deny the Federation their ‘Soul Food’ before they could commence their ‘Second Demonic Invasion’ upon the Empire. But for all intends and purposes, they have just guaranteed it.

Preferably, if it were up to the Governor and his inner circle, he would create a false flag operation to generate a much more controlled incident with a few manipulations and calculated gambits at the right place and time to gain the green light they need to push for the Holyfield’s ‘Grand Pacification Campaign’ of Gliesia, they never wanted the Cassus Belli to be from the results of what they see before them. However, knowing the Federation’s public, an attack on innocent civilians that are considered friendly to the Federation with a simultaneous assault on one of their colonies does curry more political favor to be seen at the frontier of the Federation’s Territories. This time, there will be no shortage of volunteers, no shortage of patriots, and no shortage of vengeance engraved deeply into the hearts of them all. For today, the real Demons have shown themselves, and it is this so-called ‘Alliance of the Light’.

“Yes, a horrific scene here at the Frontier today as the Citadel of Tyr Rian, a native settlement friendly to the Federation was barbarically razed to the ground last night. Witnesses report that a group of hostile locals killed and torch many dozen of establishments and peoples that were amiable to the Colony of New Albany. Let’s see if we can get a statement from the Governor. Governor White!” a Newscaster and his Camera Drone reported before the journalist spotted Governor White amongst the attending crowd of Federation personnel coordinating the rebuilding efforts.

He walked eagerly towards the Governor and placed his microphone next to the Governor but Major Holyfield shielded the Governor away from the mic and stole it himself.

“It’s those god damn Slaegians and their Dungeons and Dragon’s lackeys! Every last one of them should be rounded up and shot!” Holyfield fumed out.

“That is quite a statement!” the Newscaster recoiled upon the Major’s controversial quote. And his Camera Drone was doing a live broadcast in front of many of the Federation’s attentive gaze right now.

“You need to have you and every one of you couch potatoes at home wipe the shit’stain outta your eyes and look at all of this!” Holyfield flailed his arms back at the devastation in the background. “If these Savages want to have a war then let’s give it to’em!” Holyfield lambasted unto the camera before speeding off.

Major has several preparations he will need to finalize with Polonsky and the rest of all the able-bodied men of the UFEAF in this new theater of war. Soon, the Federation will respond in kind, for unknowingly to the Alliance of the Light they have just awoken a Sleeping Giant, and gave him a thirst for the sweet wine that is Vengeance.