BXBX NOVEL Chapter 31: Siege
The moment he suddenly rose from his seat and stalked towards the barrier, I truly thought that was it. I felt certain he was about to do something rash, and that I’d see demons die for the first time.
I was wrong. The sergeant’s face was fixed in a rictus of anger, yes, but he merely glowered at the crystalline dome before he spun around to face the casters.
"Enough. If this is to become a siege, we need a better plan."
Then he began handing out orders.
I watched, transfixed. I had seen Glaustro angry. I had seen him fly into a rage. But I had never seen him calm down and do his job with such exacting precision.
Roughly a quarter of the demonic mages, those whose spells possessed the greatest raw power, were directed to continue their bombardment. Another quarter, those who demonstrated the most complex and technically challenging spells, were ordered to study the barrier. Finally, and much to my surprise, Glaustro commanded the remaining half to rest.
The very idea of demons needing rest seemed ludicrous. But once I bothered to take a closer look, I could spot traces of exhaustion in the demonic mages. It wasn’t obvious, but it was definitely there.
I was shocked. Until that moment, I didn’t realize how firmly I believed in the demons’ infallibility. Somehow, whether due to Hayden’s influence or my own experience, I’d subconsciously come to hold as overinflated an opinion of demons as they had of themselves.
The gruff voice of Glaustro broke me out of this revelation.
"The rest of you set up camp," he snapped. "Make sure you stay on alert because we are going to destroy this city as soon as the barrier falls. And it will fall."
His voice was full of vitriol and hatred, but this time, I wasn’t tempted to flinch away. It was actually comforting to be on the same side as a vicious demon, knowing all his anger was pointed at the enemies.
As we broke ranks and hastened to obey, I cast a glance in Graighast’s direction. The demon was quiet, all his attention fixed on the barrier. He didn’t even object when his brother took control and gave commands to his men.
I tamped down my surge of inadvisable curiosity to learn more about these brothers. If I made any move to pry into their lives, I had little doubt my soul would be crushed on the spot.
Instead, I paused for a moment and devoted my own attention to the barrier. The magical construct was fascinating, both in its appearance and its effect on the demons. Though no one had explained why, space mana was clearly a big deal.
But as I stared at the dome, it wasn’t the scary-important mana type that held my focus.
I did have some knowledge about barriers, inherited from both Hayden and Clarinette. A barrier, at least in theory, was a construct similar to regular mage shields. The only difference was the anchoring point.
A mage shield was anchored to a mage. As such, it was both mobile and flexible, though entirely dependent on the mage’s own mana. A barrier was anchored to an item or a building. Its mobility, or lack thereof, depended on its anchor. To function, a barrier drew mana from some kind of magical battery designated by its creator. This made barriers tougher and more reliable than mage shields, though much more costly to maintain.
None of these were the reason for my interest in the barrier.
No, what drew me to it was a memory I had almost forgotten in all the recent chaos. Over the past few days, I’d been toasted, experienced a change in commanders, accomplished a major shopping trip, and been thrown into a demonic tournament. It was understandable that I’d overlooked some minor events along the way.
Except the ’minor event’ currently looping in my head was my sword slicing through that old man’s mage shield like it wasn’t even there.
It had shocked me back then, and I still couldn’t explain it now. I hadn’t drawn on my mana or instinctively cast a spell. Hells, at the time, I didn’t even have a proper mana absorption technique beyond the body strengthening technique that seemed more like an exercise regime than anything. I definitely shouldn’t have been able to cut down a protective magical construct, especially one cast by an individual of at least the Greater Mage level.
This led me to only one possible conclusion: I, personally, contributed nothing to that victory. Ergo, the only factor responsible for success was my weapon.
It wasn’t a particularly far-fetched idea. Everyone who saw the sword reminded me of how lucky I was to own it. Demons would only feel that way if a ’soul blade’ was capable of at least a few significant feats, right?
I knew I was supposed to be setting up my tent, but I gazed at the barrier for one more moment, questions rolling through my mind in response to this conclusion. Did the commanders know I had a soul blade? Did they have soul weapons of their own?
And, most importantly…
Could I use my sword to bring the barrier down?
There was only one way to find out.
I located my assigned spot quickly. Ever since we joined up with Graighast’s troops, Glaustro insisted our side of the camp be arranged equal to his brother’s organizational standards. I assembled my pathetic excuse for a tent, then began looking for an opportunity to slip away unseen.
It didn’t take me long to find one.
Demons tended to ignore ’mere mortals.’ I was sure plenty of my mortal allies would happily shank me from behind, but they’d all wait until we were in the middle of a battle to try. No one seemed to care about people wandering away from the camp. Demons did it often, mostly so they could put some distance between themselves and the flammable camp before practicing their brand of combat or magic. And mortals did it when they needed a moment to themselves to stay sane.
As such, it was easy for me to get away without being noticed. I only felt Bronwynn’s eyes linger briefly on my departing form before I slipped into the shadows. I stuck close to the barrier, following the subtle curve of it until I was out of sight of the camp.
Only then did it occur to me that I might have made a mistake.
If I raised my head, I could make eye contact with the suspicious guards patrolling the city wall. I strongly suspected they couldn’t attack through the barrier. If they could, they would have tried to snipe the demons by now. But there was no guarantee they couldn’t pass through somehow and try to snatch me up.
Still, I was already there. Since I had taken a stupid risk already, I might as well feed my curiosity before making my heroic retreat.
As always, the sword slid out of its sheath with nary a whisper. The blade still wasn’t much to look at, but I was so used to it that I didn’t notice the imperfections so much anymore. In fact, when I held it, the weapon felt like a part of me.
Or was that just a feeling? It was called a soul blade for a reason. I did have to go through the binding process in order to claim it. There was probably something there, but I didn’t have enough information yet to speculate properly.
Instead, I focused on what I was there to do. I gripped the sword with both my hands, raised it above my head, and brought it down on the barrier with every bit of strength I possessed.
Unfortunately, instead of making the barrier pop so I could claim my share of glory, my attack had all the same results I would achieve trying to hack my way through a steel plate.
The blade fought to jump out of my hands. The skin between my fingers split open in a rush of blood. The tremor of impact rattled my bones and tore at my muscles. I doubled over, fighting to hold in a string of screamed expletives.
Then laughter erupted behind me.
I spun, taking a combat stance as best I could. My arms were still complaining, and my hands were nearly useless, but I’d be more damned than I already was if I just let someone kill me without a fuss.
But when I saw who was laughing, I knew there was nothing I could do to stop him if he decided to hurt me.
The demon who had torched my arms for daring to ’steal’ a soul from him was right there, bent over with his hands on his stomach, laughing hard enough to hack up a lung.
"Oh, Abyss! You just — I mean, I was hoping I’d get to see something funny when I followed you, but I didn’t think you’d try anything like that!"
He finally managed to pull himself together, straightening as he brushed away an oddly gleaming tear. His smile was on full display. "Well? Not going to say anything?"
"I’m sorry, sir," I said hastily.
"Sorry? I suppose you are. I’d be sorry too, if I did something as stupid as that. I mean, really? Did you think you could poke a hole in a spatial ward with that dull stick of yours?"
I was definitely blushing, which only fed the demon’s amusement. "No?"
"Aha, see, you did a good job of trying to make your answer a question, but I can tell you’re lying to me. Maybe you didn’t one hundred percent believe it, but you thought it was possible, didn’t you?" the demon taunted, moving closer to me with all the sinuous grace of a big cat. Or a snake.
I backed up until I hit the barrier.
"Ah, well, when I encountered a similar situation before, I…"
I trailed off there, wanting to curse at myself. How could I explain my weapon’s potential ability to break magical constructs without bringing up the first time I had noticed it? I didn’t think he would respond well to any mention of my theft.
"You broke the mana shielding of a mage when you pulled off your little assassination attempt. Yes, I remember," the demon assured me, smoke curling out from between his lips.
"Ah… well… yes…"
The demon stopped mere feet away, examining me with a tilted head and quirked brow. Then he broke into another grin.
"Oh, this is great," he cackled. "You’re a Legacy. You have to be. It’s part of why I spared you, the sight of that weapon in your hands. But! You don’t have a single clue about what you actually own, do you?"
I decided that honesty was the best policy when dealing with insane pyromaniacs. "I don’t. I’ve tried to find out, but… well, I’m just a mortal."
"And demons don’t like wasting time on mortals, I know. I’m one of them. You’re not just a mortal though, are you? No, from what I’ve seen, you’re actually somewhat likely to ascend. That would eventually make you one of us, regardless of your origin."
That surprised me. I knew from Bronwynn that not all demons accepted ascendant members of their species. There was a divide between demons born and raised in the Abyss and the relative ’outsiders’ who made their way through blood and carnage, though I still didn’t know how deep it was.
The demon rolled his eyes. "Don’t look so shocked. Hmmm… Well, you did amuse me, so I suppose I could share a few things with you. Tell me, did you know that another name for weapons like yours is Mage-Killer Armaments?"
"I did not know that, sir."
"No, I suppose you wouldn’t. You see, soul weapons are exactly that: weapons crafted to bond with your soul and damage the souls of others. When you use a weapon like that, you’re not merely hurting someone’s flesh. You’re cutting into their soul. That’s why people whose bodies can resist soul weapons are extremely rare, and extremely powerful."
That answered a few questions for me all at once. One of the more useful bits of knowledge I had inherited from Hayden’s education was the link between flesh and soul in mortals. Damage the flesh, and the soul would take some minor damage. But damage the soul? The damage to the flesh would be severe.
All the times I had sheared straight through someone’s body with little to no resistance flashed through my mind. If I really was chopping through people’s souls, then that would account for the dull blade’s deadliness.
"I can practically see the flesh slurry in that bony skull of yours doing its job," the demon hiss-laughed, poking my forehead. I froze, but marginally relaxed when his finger didn’t even break skin. "Now, how would that translate to what you did to that mage, hmm?"
I bit my lip, mind working in overdrive. What did I know about mages? They used their soul and mind to interface with mana, imposing their will on the world. So…
"Because the blade disrupts a mage’s connection to their mana?" I guessed.
"Correct! Impressive, for a barely educated mortal. Yes, that blade of yours can cut through spells, including shields, because most mortal mages aren’t strong enough to anchor their mana outside themselves for added stability. Only once they reach the level of an Archmage can they overcome that weakness. Your weapon might even disrupt mana flow in untrained demons! A few weaklings, obviously, but it’s possible. Maybe."
"In other words, the sword is useless against barriers because they’re anchored outside a mage," I said, hoping to regain a bit of initiative to the conversation and too caught up in finally having some answers to stay silent. "They’re not reliant on the mage’s control over their mana."
"Well, not entirely. Soul blades are famous because of their ability to cut through both soul and mana. Besides, even the best-laid wards need to be activated first, which means there are traces of a mage’s influence in them. Unfortunately, your little sword is far too dull to cut through a ward like this one."
"But I could do it, if I upgrade the blade?" I asked, my eyes gleaming in spite of my fear.
The demon scoffed. "Sure, if you could upgrade that thing four or five times. Only the general would have a weapon that powerful, you fool. Besides, by then, you would be strong enough to just obliterate this ward yourself. You can’t count on an object, no matter how prized or useful, to do all the work for you."
With that bit of wisdom, the demon strolled away, apparently bored of the conversation.
I let out a sigh of relief and leaned back on the barrier. I was thankful for all I learned from him, but honestly would rather not deal with the stress his presence inspired.
Before I could get too comfortable, however, a crack rang out far above me. Scrambling back, I looked up to see a glowing fault line spreading through the barrier.
Our demon mages were making progress.