Reincarnated As A Peasant - Book 1 Chapter 34: Fortunes Reversal

Landar

The acolytes screamed as they were pulled from the back room, providing me cover as I climbed through the now shattered window. The balcony walkway was just overhead, so I used my hatchet to hook onto the metal railing that ran across it. The metal noise it made was drowned out by the comotion.

As I pulled myself over the railing, the screaming stopped, replaced by soft exhausted sobbing. I laid myself flat on the ground, and peaked over the edge down at where the Blue Priesthood was conducting its ritual.

A young man, and woman were both splayed on the ground, heaving deep slow breaths and struggling to keep their eyes open. High Priest Damian stood over the duo, a sickly green ball held in his hand pulsing with the two acolytes stolen mana.

“Not yet enough. Send these back, and bring more. If we hope to reach the capital district and send for reinforcements, we’ll need to fully fund the spell. No scrimping on mana!” The knight from earlier nodded, and dragged both exhausted acolytes back to the study room that was being used as their holding cell. A few moments later, more screaming, fighting, and arguing came from the room. As the doors swung open, I saw inside several people I recognized. Including a face that made my blood run cold.

Roland was gagged, tied with ropes, and had clearly been attacked. Blood covered half his face, and one of his eyes was nearly swollen shut. If Roland was there, then my sister was probably somewhere close.

The ruckus the new makeshift mana batteries caused, provided me another opportunity.

I got to my feet and crouched, then walked slowly, keeping my movements smooth to not cause any noise that would attract the attention of the extremely powerful men and women below. People who wouldn’t think twice about blasting me to small meaty bits.

I have to make my way around to that room, and find a way in, I thought as I moved. I had to navigate around debris from the fighting, as well as large mounds of books that had been left behind as the librarians fled in the fighting.

My foot snagged on a set of books, sending them tumbling to the ground.

“What was that?” Damian demanded. I threw myself into a small study alcove and prayed I hadn’t been seen. “Cerin, send your familiar to patrol the upper level. Now.”

Whoever Cerin was, their familiar cackled madly as it took off into the air. It circled in the open atrium in the middle of the library, and I caught a small glimpse of it. It had leathery wings, a long tail, and the smell when it passed me was thick with rotten eggs. It landed on the wall with the alcove I was hiding in, and I could smell it sniffing the air even over the humm of the spell at the center of the library.

The sniffing came closer, and closer to the alcove and my heart started racing. I couldn’t allow myself to get found here. I had to think of something. I tried to push myself further into the study alcove, only to find a pedestal with a rather large book sitting open on it. It almost toppled over but I grabbed it just in time to steady it.

“I smell something, something fresh.” The voice creaked and cracked, like the cracking of a flame. Its claws scraped against stone, and I felt the hair on the back of my neck stick up. “You’re hiding, little human. I can smell you, you’re here somewhere.”

Its red eyes snapped over the ledge of the top of the alcove, and looked directly at me. I was in the dark, and mostly obscured by the podium I was now hiding behind. But it still felt like he could see me, and those eyes burned into my soul.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell the others. They’re being boring anyway. You little human, you’re an interesting distraction. Fun, fun fun fun!” It pulled itself over the ledge and into the alcove, like a bat clinging to the roof of a cave.

The alcove was barely taller than a full grown adult, and there were chairs that lined the sides for people to sit and digest the information they were studying as a group. I could kill it with my axes, I’m pretty sure. It’s only the size of a fat cat. But in most fantasy settings killing a familiar will alert the spellcaster. So, what?

I smirked as an idea came to mind.

“Your fear, I can taste your fear. I like the taste of fe—augh!”

I jumped, using the stone stood next to the podium to propel me upwards. My axes were firmly in their loops, leaving my hands free. The creature shreaked and tried to pull away, but my fingers clasped firmly over one of its wings.

My feet stung as I landed in the middle of the alcove pulling the imp like creature down with me. It tried to fight me, but I was clearly stronger. Its claws could have torn me apart, but I had firm hold of one of them, and the other winged and clawed arm was desperately trying to pull itself away.

A snapping sound filled the alcove as I raised the creature’s arm over my knee, and brought it down with all my weight and strength behind it. It went limp, and started to weep allowing me to pull it closer and wrap its head in the cloth of my shirt muffling its cries.

I learned in close, putting my mouth right next to its ears. “Tell your master you caught a rat, or I’ll break the other wing.” I didn’t want to kill it, as I suspected familiars could respawn or be resummoned if destroyed. But a captured familiar? That was always far, far more dangerous in the stories.

Its red, slightly glowing eyes filled at first with rage, then panic, before finally settling on acceptance of its fate as my prisoner. At least, for now. I pulled my hatchet, which was lighter and easier to use while distracted, and showed it the sharp glowing edge.

“If you say anything other than what I specifically tell you, you’re going to regret it. Do I make myself clear?”

The imp thing nodded, and I removed the stirp of my shirt I had torn off from covering its mouth. It worked its jaw at first as if rubbing away tightness in the muscles my shirt had caused.

“Imp!” a new voice, presumably the creature’s master yelled from down below. “Belbara,what was all that noise?”

I glared at the creature I still held firmly in my hands.

“Rat thing master! Eating now, hungry!”

“See Damian? It’s just a rat. Probably knocked over some books. Can we get back to work now?”

The spellcasters bellow went back to their ritual, and I returned to my mission. I was nearly where I needed to be, a few feet away from the spot above the room they were keeping the acolytes in, when something in the world felt like it shifted.

The stones under my feet hummed, the air itself tingled with power, and my hair all over my body felt like it was standing on end. Shit!

I threw myself down to the stone, as lightning crackled around the library, sparking fires, and spreading chaos. The mad cackle of Damian and a few of his underlings reverberated behind the chaos of their spell activating, and the world exploding into raw energy.

The imp in my hand cackled and bit my wrist hard, blood pooled around its fangs. “Damn flying rat!” I reached down, and tore its broken wing off, before raising my ax and severing its head from its shoulders. The fangs still clung to the wrist of the arm holding what was left of his torso, and I had to pry them out before I could wrap the wound.

“Belbara! You little ass, you let yourself get killed?!” The imps master shouted. “Someones up there!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Damian shouted, laughing madly. “We’re connected! The Blue Order Militant will be coming through any moment!”

Crap, so the guy wasn’t just sending for help. He was opening some kind of port. Gotta get Tabitha and Roland out of here, now!

I pulled myself to the ledge and realized there was no way for me to do that. My wrist was a bloody wreck. All I could do was fall to the floor, and that wouldn’t do anything but get me, and probably them, killed.

Okay, pull back. Get reinforcements, and return. I started moving towards a set of stairs I had passed along the upper deck, when the main doors to the library shattered open. The Lord Collector stood in the ruined doorway, his son Ezekial and half a dozen other knights that radiated power in their pristine armor, supported by two clerics who looked meaner than half starved cats in sacks, strode in.

They unleashed magical attacks that made the blue wizards refocus their efforts on simply not getting killed. Even Damian had to refocus on the new threat.

I stood, and ran keeping as much pressure on my wrist as possible. Blood flowed from it, but not nearly as bad as before. My vision was starting to blur slightly, one of the first indications of blood loss. I had to get somewhere safe, and put a tourniquet on, or I was going to die.

As I reached the stairs, the clanking of heavy metal boots on hard stone floors echoed off the stone library walls like the sound of thunder. Dozens of men appeared inside the circle, armor glowing blue, magical staffs and wands in hand held like swords at their ready.

They engaged the knights, and swiftly overwhelmed the first few. The Lord Collector and his group had to retreat or get overwhelmed as a handful more came through in a second wave. Among their number was a man in bright blue armor that was missing an eye. In its place, a bright yellow ball of pure magical energy rested.

“High Priest Damian. We received your call for assistance. I am Militant Commander Tavis. Is it true that the Arch-Duke has rebelled against the throne, and seeks to succeed from the kingdom?”

I didn’t hear Damians reply as I threw myself down the staircase, and found myself in a small auxiliary library much like the room I had first met Damian and Sigvald those months ago. I stopped, and ripped another large chunk off my shirt, and began bandaging the wrist wound.

It seemed the fighting had only just started in earnest now. And whatever pretense of this being an intra-institutional conflict between the local chapters of the priesthoods was gone.

Things were about to get worse in this city. And I had to get everyone I could out of harm’s way.