Kieran wasted no time in his preparations. Lives were at stake. Every second was precious.
In fact, he paused only long enough to gather some more information, specifically on why the group of refugees had chosen this particular route. An understanding of their reasoning could help guide him if he had to search specific areas. But once that was complete, he set off immediately down the Queen’s Promenade.
He made it down the mountain in half the time it usually took him, but when he hit the forest, he had to slow down. While he was confident in his ability to read maps, he couldn’t afford to rush the process. Missing a landmark and getting off-track would lose him more time than taking it slowly. A clearing here, a creek there, and he could be certain he was still following the map.
Kieran was careful to stick to the path Darrick had pointed out to him. He found it almost eerie just how similar it was to the route he had taken himself when he was heading towards the mountain. A few hours into his journey, he even caught a glimpse of the gnoll tower through the trees.
He took a quick detour to check whether or not the tower was inhabited again. Aside from long dried blood, he found no trace of the bodies he’d left behind. But there was also no sign of new inhabitants.
“Animal scavengers wouldn’t bother taking the entire body away…” Kieran mused aloud, kneeling by the remnants of blood. “Assuming they were in league with Broken Tusk, though, perhaps the remnants of that warband came back to bury them.”
Narrowing his eyes, Kieran looked around the forest. He spotted a scattering of tracks in the dirt: hoofprints, fitting the shape of a boar, but walking on two feet. A little further, he found some more, followed closely by hyena pawprints.
These tracks, however, led away from the road he was meant to be following. Kieran reluctantly decided to ignore the trail for now. Nothing connected this tower to the group of survivors, and finding them was his priority.
Returning to the path Darrick had shown him, Kieran continued following the map through the woods. He walked slowly and kept a careful watch for any signs of activity. After another two hours, he made it out of the forest and onto the grass plains.
The sight brought back memories of his first days on Lyruna. Even though it was only a couple of weeks since his arrival, it felt like months to Kieran. He had learned so much. About this new world, and new species, and most especially about death…
But he had no time to ponder these circumstances. He still had a group of people to find.
To that end, he scanned the landscape in front of him, hoping to spot something obvious on the open plains. But aside from the cathedral ruins, and the entrance to the tiny underground building where he had first awoken, Kieran couldn’t spot anything out of the ordinary.
He checked his map again. The group’s route took them out of the forest briefly, looping out over the plains to avoid a known gathering of monsters at the foot of Eon’s Peak.
Combining his knowledge with Rah’Na’s, he guessed these monsters were probably in league with Broken Tusk. Kieran could only speculate about the state of the warband now. Either they had cleared out after Broken Tusk’s death, or one of them had made a play to become the new leader.
But there were more pressing concerns. Before leaving the forest to loop over the plains, the survivors’ path led through an area with plenty of natural caves. According to Darrick, survivors often used these caves to hide from patrolling monsters.
“If they got stuck-in avoiding patrols, that would be the most likely spot to find them,” Kieran reasoned as he packed the map away. “Hopefully they’re there… any further back, and things could be a lot more complicated.”
The danger was all too clear. Before the network of caves, the group’s path intersected directly with the route Kieran had taken to reach Groveside. Realistically, if the survivors were there during Kieran’s previous mission, they might have run into Pale Watchers or Nahra’Drun trappers.
He wasn’t sure which option was worse, but he hoped it was neither.
Kieran pressed ahead, picking up speed again on the plains. He came across several old campsites as he went. Simple fire pits and traces of pitched tents were obvious in the tall grass. However, none of the camps contained any clues that would tell him whether they had been used by monsters or refugees.
As he drew closer to the old cathedral ruins, Kieran felt his interest in the site rekindle. Having met Gir’Amal, he could now identify the statues outside. This was a sacred space dedicated to Defiance.
Kieran hesitated only briefly, then turned towards the ruins. The tug at the back of his mind felt like something more than just his curiosity. And besides, the cathedral could feasibly have been part of the survivors’ route.
The scratching at the back of his mind increased when he reached the entrance to the ruined spot of worship. He found himself resting his hand on Defiant Aphelion’s hilt.
The weapon vibrated at his touch.
Curious, Kieran drew the shortsword. The blade, prismatic as ever, reflected light in a curious way. It seemed to gather whatever light struck it and then redirected that light in a different, specific direction. Yet Kieran couldn’t make any sense of the direction. The light was far too scattered. It just painted the cathedral’s front in a dazzling display.This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Holding the sword low at his side, Kieran stepped into the cathedral. The light show emanating from the blade illuminated the interior of the ruins with beautiful radiance, shining on the same camp remains Kieran had found last time.
Only… they were slightly different. The blood from his previous fight against the goblins had been cleaned. There were more sheets laid out across the rubble. Kieran even noticed the fire pit was still smoking slightly.
A few packs were strewn around the fire. One had been knocked over, its various supplies spilling onto the ground. There was a lute leaning against a rock by one of the packs.
Kieran walked over to inspect the scene. Using his sword to cast light onto the abandoned supplies, he muttered his observations to himself, as if the campsite was one of his corpses back in the morgue.
“Bandages, wrapped up bread, an instrument, mostly clean sheets… This was left behind by the survivors.”
As if in response to Kieran’s words, the light emanating from Defiant Aphelion suddenly focused. All the reflected rays solidified into a single beam, pointing to the statue of Gir’Amal.
The statue responded.
Its mostly featureless face turned slowly to the side. The open palm of the statue’s hand, where Kieran had found the ring, closed. Then the hand turned, pointing to one of the holes in the cathedral walls.
A voice echoed through Kieran’s mind, like the crackling of a campfire in the dark night.
“They are in danger, worthy Contender. Follow the light. Save them.”
Kieran didn’t need to think twice. His instincts, both as a medic and a soldier, kicked in. Defiant Aphelion’s beam of light redirected again, pointing in the same direction as the statue’s hand, and he set off running.
He held Defiant Aphelion steady with both hands as he ran, the prismatic beam serving as his guide. If his mental map was correct, the sword was leading him in a much different direction than the group of survivors were supposed to take. But, considering the campsite remains he found, it was likely they had been attacked and forced to flee in a random direction.
The blade’s light soon led him into the forest again. While the guiding beam dimmed in the shadows beneath the trees, it still remained clear enough for Kieran to continue pushing. And before long, he could hear voices in the distance.
First came the panicked shouts of what sounded like a man, followed closely by the clashing of steel. Screams of both fear and pain echoed through the forest gloom. A light mist covered the ground, as concerning as it was unnatural.
Kieran crashed through the underbrush, cutting through whatever he couldn’t run over. He only paused when he finally spotted movement through the trees.
An assorted group of refugees were huddled at the edge of a clearing. In the center of the clearing stood three armed individuals, a bear-beast man and two humans, holding off a band of five skeletons. Compared to the skeletons Kieran had previously fought, these were better armed and armored. Each of them carried an axe and a shield. Chainmail hung from their bony frames.
Kieran emerged from the trees just as the bear-man swung his weapon, a huge sledgehammer, at the nearest undead. The skeleton raised its shield and redirected the bear’s attack with ease. But before the fighting could continue, Defiant Aphelion’s light landed on one of the skeletons.
All five turned to face Kieran.
The sword’s guiding beam faded in that moment, leaving only the dim sunlight piercing through the canopy to illuminate the scene.
“Who are you?!” the bear-man growled, his voice shrill with panic.
Kieran held his sword in both hands and pointed it towards the nearest opponent. ““Later. Leave these to me. Protect the others.”
The three armed survivors hesitated for a moment, sharing looks of concern and confusion. Then, slowly, they fell back and formed a line in front of the huddled group.
Kieran watched his enemies shamble towards him.
Five against one, he thought. And they seem to be much more competent than the last bunch.
Knowing that he needed to secure an advantage as quickly as possible, Kieran focused on Form of Death.
He felt something strange as his fog-like form passed through the leftmost skeleton. As always when using his skills, he felt the cold of his own energy flowing through his body and slowly draining. But the moment he passed through his opponent, there was a surge.
The flow of energy briefly reversed. He felt another stream merge with his flow of energy, cold as his own but… stale. Putrid. In the next moment, as Kieran’s feet touched the ground behind the skeleton, this new energy transformed and merged fully into his own reserves.
As soon as he was corporeal again, Kieran swung Defiant Aphelion at his opponent’s neck. The skeleton was too slow to turn and had no chance to react. Kieran’s sword slid across bone, wedging in between vertebrae and dislodging them. The skeleton’s chainmail caused a deafening racket as its once-again-lifeless body fell to the forest floor.
And then there were four.
The instant before his next opponent was in reach, Kieran checked his energy reserves. He was glad to find that they were full.
A memory of his skill screen popped into his mind, detailing Form of Death’s ‘advanced’ version: ‘Any creature the caster passes through is drained of their life force, healing the caster.’
Interesting… so the leech effect also applies to energy, Kieran theorized. Or maybe this is only the case when there are no wounds to heal?
But that was going to be an experiment for another time.
His next foe closed the distance rapidly, swinging its axe in a downwards arc. Sword still held in both hands, Kieran stepped to the side and spun on his heel to build momentum. He then used this momentum to launch a counter in the form of an upward swing.
While the skeleton’s axe met only air, Kieran drove Defiant Aphelion into the attacker’s jaw, shattering it completely.
Another deafening crash… and then there were three.
Kieran focused on Chilling Touch, conjuring a spectral hand by the next skeleton in line. His opponent didn’t even have time to move as the hand appeared on its chest. A wave of ice stopped the skeleton in its tracks. It toppled with the sound of cracking ice and bone.
The two remaining skeletons circled slowly around their frozen comrade. Kieran took the momentary break to catch his breath, fighting to keep his face blank and conceal the wave of exhaustion caused by his spell.
He also snuck a glance at the survivors. Most of them showed signs of light injury, but he spotted one in particular with several deep slashes in his side.
Kieran’s medic instincts kicked in again. If he was to save that man, he needed to finish this fight soon.
It was time to take a risk.
Kieran stepped forward confidently until he was directly between the two skeletons. Then he threw his weight into another swing, aiming to decapitate the undead on his right. But this skeleton managed to raise its shield in time. Kieran’s sword clanged ineffectually against the metal.
The two undead raised their axes simultaneously, intending to strike at Kieran’s chest from either side.
Kieran smiled.
He focused on Shield Counter. The barrier appeared just in time to prevent the axes from biting into his flesh. Then he detonated it immediately.
Celestial fire consumed the two undead. By the time it dissipated, there were only piles of bones and chainmail left on the ground.
Kieran didn’t even spare them a glance.
“Let me have a look at those wounds,” he demanded, sheathing his weapon as he approached the group of survivors. “He doesn’t have a lot of time.”