Come morning, the fortress’s defenders gathered at the foot of the wall, as they had always done the past few invasions. Their confidence was high, drunk off the prior victories. One would have never assumed them to be the solemn fellows of but a month before. Now, they grabbed their weapons with vigor, and stood side by side with the newly empowered players who no longer cowered at the rear. They did not need to; for the demons no longer yielded them any threat.
Frankishmen and otherworlders alike flocked to the frontlines. This was their final battle together; and though they would soon need to part, the stronghold was certain to hold firm thanks to the knowledge exchanged between the two star-crossed cultures. Roncevaux Fortress would receive the supplies they had been cheated: that Sir Ruggiero had promised.
Underneath the jolly mood was a darker, more concerning reality. The matter of Ruggiero’s imprisonment was kept a secret to the other players, but Lucius had spied on a conversation between him and Sir Ogier in the morning.
“What do you make of this, Ogier?” Ruggiero had said. “When I confronted the tribunal over your plight, they refused to acknowledge the missing aid. Words cannot fully express the chaos I saw then—priests and officials fighting each other in the courts for days without rest. No one was united; they all sought after their own affairs. Was the empire truly this corrupted all this time?”
Ogier heaved a sigh and gazed out toward the empty courtyard. As a man of his ailing age, he did not seem surprised by the nation’s supposed friction. “It has always been there. Those curs simply hid it from the likes of us: foreigners granted peerage, but not true acceptance. I was there in the early days of the holy war, before Pepin the Zealot of Tragedy had committed to his dangerous ambition, and it was there that I saw how he was flattered then by the spineless whelps of the court. Even now, they still yet live.”
“But to go as far as sabotage… what else am I to suspect other than their wish for this fortress’s fall?”
“I do not know, but that is how it has always been. They lie and deceive. You would know better having seen it: Who provoked the most discourse?”
Ruggiero scrunched his brow and rubbed his face with barely-contained anger. “It was Sir Ganelon. He and the elders were responsible for my short stay in the gaol.”
To that, Ogier looked surprised. “Ganelon? That fellow? How odd. He was among the rare few who treated me as equal.”
“That is what vexes me. The Ganelon I knew was the most vocal against his late Holiness’s rampage, and he was also the only one that monster ever treated as friend. I shudder to think what would have become of us had he not interfered, yet now he controls the officials like one would a puppet.”
“What of Sir Roland? Did he say nothing?”
Ogier clenched his fists. “Sir Roland fought on my behalf, but I saw how it pained him so to clash with his foster father. There is only so much authority he can wield as the Peers’ leader; the other powers belong to the Archbishop and the Head Tribunal.”
“I remember Father Turpin. He was a kind man.”
“Kind, yes, but easily swayed. Ganelon turned him against me, spouting lies and slander that I sought to harm the heroes chosen by God. All this conflict… my heart boils with a rage I did not think possible. In this time where we must unite more than ever, we are instead divided by hidden blades and tongues laced in venom; and through it all I simply cannot understand what is to be gained from this.”
The two Peers had discussed their concerns with each other up to the afternoon. There were many questions, yet no answers. All they could do now was see to the end of the next invasion.
Thus, Lucius and his fellows rallied to the forefront once more. The others were none the wiser to the schemes lurking in the background; they were more concerned over completing the mission.
“How many points do you guys have?” Mili said, casually picking her guitar while waiting for the battle to start. “I don’t mean to brag, but… I fried a whole lotta of them demons. Think I should be close to seventeen-hundred by now.”
Harper stumbled back in surprise. “That much? Darn, I only have about six hundred. I even hauled my butt doin’ morning duties around the fort just to get that number up.”
“Eh, a little over five hundred for me,” Marco said. “These old bones ain’t got the energy anymore to be doin’ chores. Did plenty of that with my boys and girls back in my youth—never again.”
The three turned their attention towards Lucius, eager to hear his answer.
“Oh dear, I am embarrassed to admit that I have not quite kept track myself,” he said. “What was it again… I do believe somewhere around four thousand.”
Their jaws dropped. “Four thousand?!” Mili gasped. “How did you even get it that high?”
“I simply did as I always have.” Lucius was telling the truth. He only flattered the high-ranking officers; recorded inventory; cooked meals; tidied the barracks; aired out the laundry; cleaned; swept; polished; and also took great care to discreetly save the clumsy souls caught by surprise during the demonic attacks. What could he say? Success was just ever so keen on chasing after him.This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.
Their conversation was cut short by the blare of the war horns. The demons descended from the mountaintops once again, and so did the players prepare themselves for one last stand.
Before Mili could unleash her sonorous wrath, however, Lucius took her aside and whispered in her ear.
“I would advise you save some of your strength for later, Miss Mili,” he said. “Call it a gentleman’s intuition, but… I have a feeling this surge will hold much surprise.”
The musician tilted her head in confusion, but she didn’t try to argue and gave Lucius a thumbs up. “I trust you, friendo.”
With that out of the way, the demonic horde rushed forth, and the fortress alliance waged war once more. The battle wasn’t all too different from the previous times; the ranged players and priests dwindled the demons’ number from afar while those of more physical temperament took care of the remnants.
Lucius’s party by this point had complete mastery over their teamwork. They each knew the other’s limits, their reach, where they were likely to move and when best to follow up. Fighting together with their lives on the line had quickly accelerated their understanding of the ‘flow’ of combat, or so the paladins had called it. And it was all thanks to Lucius.
The gentleman carefully molded his fellows to become accustomed to his patterns - his movements. Whenever they strayed from his grasp, he quickly corrected them with a nudge and positioned himself to make up for their faults. Eventually, they learned to dance along his strings exactly as he envisioned. One perhaps could call it coercion, subtle mental domination to be more crude, but Lucius liked to think of it as a sort of re-education. It benefited his companions, so what was the harm?
Eventually, the demonic tide began to ease up. By this point Lucius had become level twenty-six—a much slower pace than before, but he supposed it couldn’t be helped. The three stat points were put into strength: twenty-nine now. There was no special reason - he just felt like it.
“Huh, looks like you were wrong for once, Lucius,” Mili said, a bit haggard but still buzzing with fight. “Think the coast is clear. Hehe, now we can finally get some sweet loot.”
Lucius couldn’t help but sigh and shake his head before her brazen confidence. “Now you’ve done it, my dear.”
“Did what?”
Her question was soon answered, for a rumbling began to shake the ground below them, and a garbled cry rang out from beyond the forests.
Soon, larger, cruder, and more demented-appearing demonspawn staggered out with a wobble. There were about ten of them, each one the size of a large building and varying in bizarre, beast-like forms. One appeared to be an odd collage between bear and snake; another reminded Lucius of that Jabberwock creature Ogier had mentioned before.
But none were as hideous as the leader that urged them forward. It was a gargantuan thing, tall as the Great Oak Ruggiero had torn in half on the players’ first day, and donned the scribbled appearance of a clown with the face of an elephant.
“Ruggiero, to me!” Ogier barked from within his whirlwind of slaughter. “The paladins cannot handle that foe. We must slay it together.”
The paladin from the Moors flew over on the Hippogriff Express and picked him up, the two racing across the sky to reach the abominable jester.
Meanwhile, on ground, Lucius and the paladins were left to deal with the other strange demonic beasts. The priests attacked them from afar, but their incantations did little to slow the things’ march.
This was a problem. Lucius would need to come up with a more complex plan.
“If I could have a moment of your time…” Lucius said, turning around to face the other three. “I have a strategy I would like to employ.”
After a quick talk, the party ran forward to confront the chicken-like demon. Harper stopped a fair distance away, summoned her fire hydrant, and then doused the thing in a sharp blast of water. The force cut into its paper-drawn flesh; however, it pushed through and cackled like a school child. That was fine. The true attack had yet to come.
“Oh-oh… ‘round and ‘round we go, holding on to pain, driven by our egos~”
Mili blasted forth a small bolt of lighting and shocked the demon whole and all. The musician would normally need more firepower to vaporize the thing, but the water allowed her electricity to spread, to proliferate, to zap its every surface without escape.
Marco and Lucius gave it not a chance to recover and attacked its now-unbalanced limbs. When it could stand no longer and toppled onto the ground, the four of them charged forward and proceeded to batter its charred body until the demon was utterly pulverized.
*You have contributed to the extermination of a Greater Demon! EXP + 25
From then on, they used the same strategy to aid the other paladins in their hunt. The monstrous things were daunting at first, and some players were unfortunately killed in action. But the battle was not hopeless. Despite the casualties, they eventually triumphed over the remaining scourge and were given rest to watch as the two Peers took down the clown.
“Balisarda!”
“Cortain!”
Ruggiero and Ogier unleashed their ultimate attacks and tore the demons’ leader apart. It was a grand display, a perfect end to the players’ last day at Roncevaux Fortress.
Finally, it was all over.
Mili, Harper, and Marco collapsed with a grunt. They were much more exhausted than usual, but also excited; even these terrible, terrible creatures were no match for humanity’s might. Slaying the Demon King was starting to look a little less impossible.
That all soon changed.
“Hm? What’s with that thing over there?” Harper said, noticing a lone demon still standing. “I thought we got all of them already. Why isn’t it moving?”
The demon was but the size of an adult human. It didn’t look particularly special, except its form was vaguely humanoid—covered in photos of various eyes and wriggling stalks. What was strange, however, was how it acted.
If Lucius didn’t know any better, he would say it appeared to be… crying.
Marco stood back up and readied his gauntlet. “I’ll take care of it. You folks get some rest.”
Something was wrong. This thing wasn’t like the others - Lucius felt a cold dread run down his spine.
“Wait a minute, Mister Bernardi—” he yelled, but the old mobster had already approached it.
The demon turned around, and it spoke.
“What do I look like in your eyes?”