Chapter 29

Qrs leaned heavily on his war club as he limped his way up the pass. His boots scraped over the ground, as if echoing the burden of grief and depression that weighed on his heart. He felt that the world itself was mocking him over his failures; at the futility of his actions as he desperately tried to hold his crumbling reality together.

Why did he think they could rest? Why did he think they were safe? He thought they had time; the habits and mundane needs of the people provided excuses that clouded over his sense of urgency. The lull in his vigilance brought with it an abyss of bitterness and regret.

As he scaled the slope, his eyes constantly moved over the rocky landscape, looking for any sign of the living. All he could find, however, were belongings cast aside in terror, and corpses strewn all over the trail – reminding him of his carelessness with every step. All these people had looked to him for leadership, and his leadership had killed them all.

Jaldabaoth had arrived shortly after they were warned of Fiends approaching from the west, bringing with him an overwhelming army that crashed into the hastily assembled lines of his defenders. To Qrs’ horror, Jaldabaoth had only appeared to briefly mock them before flying off after the fleeing villagers. Qrs and his defenders could only fight and, by the time they finished, he and the survivors of the battle saw that the Demon Emperor’s forces were already halfway up the pass.

It was all they could do to try and catch up. They were forced to watch their people die mere minutes ahead of them. Jaldabaoth was doing it on purpose, Qrs knew: every scream and grisly scene was a vicious taunt sent their way. As always, his intent was to shatter their hearts and break their minds. Many succumbed, falling to the ground with heartrending cries of anguish.

Qrs reached Jaldabaoth with what was left of his defenders, and he knew that this, too, was by design. His back was turned to them and, on the other side, the remainder of their fleeing people could be seen.

“Are you so insistent on witnessing the death of your people?” Jaldabaoth said, “What a sick and twisted soul you are. Your son and your family; your people and your allies – you have led them all on this great venture of pain and suffering. I am truly beginning to wonder how you can stand and claim to lead and protect them while at the same time being the architect of their demise.”

“Spare me your lies, Demon!” Qrs spat, “We will stand and fight you to the last if it offers the slightest chance that they may live!”

Jaldabaoth turned to face them with a yawn.

“Can’t you come up with something more inspired?” The Demon Emperor said, “Your dull diatribes would not even whet the appetite of the lowest Imp.”

“We are not here to entertain you, Fiend!”

Qrs bolted forward with a roar, and his warriors joined him. Jaldabaoth’s bored expression did not waver. A storm of fire erupted in the pass around them, and a sweep of the Demon Emperor’s wings cast Qrs and the ashes of the remaining defenders to the wind.

“You bore me, little pig,” Jaldabaoth’s voice followed after him. “Begone. Go and wallow in your filth and misery.”

He struck the trail and was sent tumbling end over end, crashing into a boulder where darkness claimed him. When he regained his awareness, he wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but it shouldn’t have been long.

Looking to the top of the pass, Qrs discovered that Jaldabaoth was gone. Ignoring the pain from his cuts and burns, he scrambled to his feet. He crested the ascent, steeling himself for what lay ahead as he looked down the other side. His eyes widened. What he found instead was Jaldabaoth, charging straight up the trail towards him.

Qrs took a stance, taking a deep breath as he activated his Martial Arts. Had the Demon Emperor changed his mind? No matter, there was only one thing to–

“Out of my way!”

Jaldabaoth’s arm swept out in a backhand as he shouted, sending Qrs careening to the side. He heard arrows whistling in the wind. Loud cracks sounded as they struck the Demon Emperor in the back, caking the base of his wings in layers of rime.

“Dammit!” Jaldabaoth shouted, “Stop that!”

More arrows sailed in. One struck the Fiend in the ankle, covering his foot with some unknown substance. Jaldabaoth staggered.

“Argh! What–”

He took a moment to free himself, and several more arrows found him.

“Ow!” Jaldabaoth whined, “Leave me alone!”

As he reached the top of the pass, the Demon Emperor took wing. More arrows hissed in his wake.

“Damn you,” Jaldabaoth turned and shook his fist ruefully, “and damn your Runecraft™! I’ll remember this! One day, I’ll be back to–woah! S-scratch that – I’m never coming back!”

On wings of flame, Demon Emperor Jaldabaoth frantically flew off, his blazing form rapidly diminishing to the west.

Qrs’ jaw fell open. He couldn’t understand what had just happened. The Demon God, one-sidedly driven away? The ArchFiend who had so simply subjugated the Abelion Hills and turned its people into his chattel?

He recalled the stark terror etched into Jaldabaoth’s infernal features. His gaze left the horizon, seeking to lay his eyes upon what must be the greatest legend of his time. Instead, what he found was…

Impossible… it can’t be!

He struggled back to his feet and raised the visor of his helm. The slim figure at the top of the pass turned from where it was looking out to the west. Beneath the open-faced sallet were the features of a Human. A Human had driven away Jaldabaoth!

Qrs tried to take a measure of the Human. It held an easy posture that spoke of its readiness to react to any of his moves. A faint pressure radiated from it, but it only appeared to be as strong as one of his veteran defenders, at best. Its equipment also seemed inferior to his own, save for the bone-white bow that it held in a gauntleted hand.

It didn’t make any sense. Was the Human concealing its strength somehow? It was absolutely impossible that what he saw before him could even be the slightest threat to Jaldabaoth…yet he had undeniably fled.

The sound of heavy footfalls came up from the east. A Bugbear-sized figure approached. Glowing red veins pulsed over its spiked black armour, and it wielded both a large tower shield and flamberge. What drew his attention was not the approaching form of the approaching warrior, however, but what shuffled in behind it.

They were his villagers, recognizable by sight. He knew their names, families, histories – many of them he had spoken to not long ago. Their forms were sallow and grey; many displayed vicious open wounds, yet none of them bled. His people…had been twisted into Undead.

Anger rose in his battered body. He looked back at the Human. It, too, had turned its attention to the Undead but showed no adverse reaction to their presence. Were they somehow related to one another? He recalled that the Humans of this region worshipped their Six Great Gods. They must have sacrificed his people to their god of death. From the many Goblinoids he could see in their number, the Goblin army must have fallen, as well.

His lip curled. Frustration and grief flowed down his cheeks anew. He had failed utterly and completely. He cursed himself; cursed the world for its unfairness. That good and honest folk would fall prey to evil Fiends while wretched Humans possessed the means to stand against them.

There was nothing left. His family was gone. His people were gone. The once-great alliance of Demihumans that had banded together in common cause to achieve so much was gone. Only he remained. Qrs. He cursed his namesake as well.

Qrs turned towards the Human and hefted his weapon. There was nothing left. He wanted his misery to end. He thought that, at least, he could die a warrior’s death against a hated enemy.

“I am Qrs of the Gan Zu tribe – Qrs Gan Zu.”

The Human looked back at him silently. He wasn’t sure why he had expected a proper response to his challenge in the first place. A Human was a Human, after all. He lowered his visor.

“Ludmila of House Zahradnik,” a clear female voice carried over the wind, “Warden of the Vale.”

A shiver ran through him. Rangers were plentiful, but, in all the tales of all the ages, Wardens were nearly unheard of. A title suited to a legend who could stand to challenge a Demon God.

Qrs’ face spread into a savage grin, feelings of a time long forgotten rushing back to his mind. A time before Jaldabaoth, when he lived a fulfilling and happy life. A world long lost, of loving family and loyal tribe, where he stood tall and proud as the High Chieftain of the tribes. He would have his honourable end. With Martial Arts still active, he brandished his weapon and charged forward.

The Human danced backwards and raised her bow. An arrow flashed towards him and shattered when he tried batting it away. His body jolted as lightning coursed up his arm, but his momentum did not falter. The Human dropped her bow, and some sort of spear appeared in her hands. His attention shifted to the dangerous-looking weapon. That would need to go first. Predictably, she readied a parry for his imminent attack.

“「Sundering Blow」!”

His war club whipped across the blade of her weapon. Instead of damaging it, however, the top half of his own weapon was cleanly sheared off. Their eyes followed the cylinder of studded black metal as it thudded to the ground.

What did she do? Qrs hadn’t registered any movement whatsoever. There was no sense of resistance, or even contact as their weapons met. She was surely hiding her strength if she was able to cleave his weapon in two, moving as quickly as Jaldabaoth had at the ford. He lunged forward with the remaining piece of his club, determined to at least land a single blow.

His head jolted. A black shield smashed into his helmet, and several of the Undead Warriors wrestled him to the ground. More Undead, adorned in black robes, floated down near him. He heard spells being cast, and his strength was stolen from him.

“Why?” Qrs groaned, “Why! The world has blessed you with everything; I have nothing left – nothing! At least let me leave this world with honour!”

“I have no obligation to answer to your whims,” the Human replied.

Qrs struggled feebly as he was carried away. He cast one last, baleful eye back at her.

“Curse you,” he spat. “Curse you, Ludmila of House Zahradnik! May you spend an eternity in the company of these evil Undead!”

“I feel that this is already likely,” the Human returned lightly. “Also, this may sound strange to you, but it really does not sound terrible at all to me.”

Ludmila turned away from the thrashing and screaming of the Demihuman being hauled away, eyeing the blade of her glaive closely. Luckily for her, her opponent had decided to use a sundering attack against it, and the attack had broken its own weapon instead. The blade didn’t display any signs of damage, and she marvelled over the fact that she was in one piece at all.

A Fiendish invasion, the evil star and a strange Demihuman more powerful than her Death Knights and Death Warriors. She unequipped the glaive and picked up the Rune Bow Ultuwah off of the ground. It was the sole reason that she had driven off the powerful Fiend that had appeared in the pass.

Her mind went back to Lady Shizu’s timely arrival with the Runecrafted weapons and thought it highly likely that the Sorcerous Kingdom had known of the coming threat. They had delivered the appropriate means at the appropriate time, and Ludmila felt a fool for thinking that she alone was paying any mind to events outside of her borders. All that was required of her was that she act faithfully as an instrument of His Majesty’s will, and His Majesty would surely provide the means to prevail, if necessary.

She sighed as the cool night wind played over her face. It had been less than two weeks since the invasion of the upper reaches, but it felt like a lifetime ago. Well, they still had the giant mess to clean up, and they still hadn’t finished processing their massive backlog of corpses.

Ludmila set about directing her forces to start clearing up the pass, then looked back west across the vast expanse of the Abelion Wilderness. The evil star said that they wouldn’t return, but it probably wasn’t wise to take such a Fiend on their word. She looked down at the bow in her hand before putting it away: once life returned to business as usual, she would have to inquire about Runecraft™.

“There is a report from the Bone Vultures to the east,” Nonna told her during the ongoing cleanup.

“From the east?” Ludmila frowned, “Is something going on with the Krkonoše?”

“No,” the Elder Lich shook her head. “A force of Humans is coming through the southeastern pass.”

“The Theocracy,” Ludmila murmured. “They are a bit late – no, I suppose it is our response that was extraordinarily fast by normal measure. It should be counted as a good thing that they responded to our warning seriously.”

Ludmila turned her gaze over the basin to the east, and a worrisome thought occurred to her.

“Where are they, currently?” She asked.

“They are still on their way up the southern side of the pass.”

She crossed her arms over her midriff, tapping a finger on her vambrace in thought. The Bishop of E-Rantel had successfully forwarded her warning to the Theocracy. Presumably, this meant that they still trusted the faithful of the north to at least that extent. She couldn’t risk sparking an incident that would ruin that.

“More than three days away from the central valley then…no, their scouts should be able to get there within half a day, if they’re not already closer than that. Our forces are still clearing away everything down there – do you think we can fly down there quickly?”

“The acceleration from a calculated descent should allow us to reach the bottom in roughly three hours.”

“Then let’s get moving,” Ludmila said. “I should be there to greet them. The development of my demesne has already fallen far enough behind as it is – I would rather not have another war erupt on our border.”