They were unprepared, yet they had minimal time to make arrangements.
The Knight Captain, Teffrey, unholstered his great axe and gave the signal to his lieutenants to begin enacting their preparations.
The lieutenants carried several crates towards a nearby crowd of wizards and other spellcasters before they began to distribute the contents among them.
The convoy was traversing the outskirts of the Primordia Forest, which covered a vast expanse of central Rostovo. Despite the revenue generated by the logging industry, the forest remained undiminished, defying all efforts to curtail its growth. Along the Capital Highway, the forest grew progressively denser and more invasive as it encroached upon the fringes of Rostovo's domain.
The dense brush and debris-cluttered pathway made passage with the wagons much slower, increasing the guardian's anxiety as they tried to help usher civilians along.
Wilford rushed over a nearby hill holding his nocked bow. "Warn the outlying sentinels and inform Knight Captain Teffrey, prepare for their vanguard! They're spreading out at the north side of the highway and advancing quickly!"
The knights wearing heavy runic armor drew their varying weapons and began moving to block anything coming from the north side of the highway.
Standing firm, they drew strength from their resolve to protect the remnants of Rostovo's people. Their brave stances cut dashing figures in the minds of those watching nearby.
Briefly, a visible, sparkling wind passed through the convoy wafting heavily with the scent of almonds, before vanishing suddenly. The highway immediately appeared empty; the caravans and civilians had vanished.
However, one could still listen carefully and hear whispers, crying, and the shuffling of many footsteps in the empty space of the center of the highway.
The caravans and civilians, now invisible, continued to plod along while the visible defenders marched slowly. As the slower groups snuck ahead, the military forces would draw the attention of the ambushers.
Now, it appeared that only military forces lined the highway. The knights and melee men-at-arms moved cautiously in short, deliberate patterns, leaving measured gaps to allow the archers and other ranged combatants to fire without endangering their allies.
Positioned just behind the knights and archers were the mages and clerics, perspiring heavily and struggling to regain their composure after expending considerable energy casting spells and protective blessings.
Walker had an arrow nocked, aiming downward. He did not draw the string as he carefully checked his grip and stance, as Wilford had been drilling into him.
Holding the bowstave gently in the webbed space between his thumb and index finger of his right hand, he was applying a gentle pressure from the front with his index and middle finger.
Many beginners tried to hold the bow differently, not caring for the placement of their grip or by using their thumb to improperly control their grip from the rear or the side of the bow. Wilford taught him that he should instead control and regulate the force he applied on the bow itself.
Gripping the bow too tightly, or with his fingers misaligned, could drastically alter his aim. The force applied from putting pressure unevenly would certainly affect his aim.
The convoy continued to follow the highway. There was a fresh confidence in their footing as they traversed the paved highway while watching the uneven hills, furrows and large trees.
The reduced visibility from the increasing tree cover made Knight Captain Teffrey increasingly nervous for his younger, more inexperienced recruits.
Teffrey ran his thumb along the edge of his massive axe, his gaze fixed on the young scout, Walker, who stood resolutely near Wilford as the convoy steadily advanced.
His attention shifted to the cleric Amberlin, positioned a short distance behind Walker. Her piercing stare bore into Walker's back, her expression marked by an intense gaze and deep lines of worry.
Teffrey advanced forward, moving closer to the cleric. When he strode next to her he cleared his throat and spoke up to be heard clearly. "What's bothering you? I suppose you've heard something troubling with your powers?"
Amberlin started, momentarily surprised when the Knight Captain's deep commanding voice suddenly broke into her thoughts.
Staring at Walker's back, she shook her head. "No, he's seemin' confused about, well, everything." She finished weakly in her strange brogue-accent.
She continued, sounding uncertain. "He does nae have any memories prior to the King's summoning ritual, none at all that I can tell. If he does, he's nae thought of them. Nae active reminscin', nae one time. Nor do he recall or be thinkin' about anyone he knew prior. Is truly as if he were bornt at the time of the summoning."
Teffrey nodded, uncertain what to do with that information. "Does he or the Mark present any danger to us?"
Amberlin shrugged, then paused, appearing lost in thought for a moment. She eventually replied, her uncertainty apparent, "I dunnae believe it so, other than being a beacon of sorts. A Mark of Darkness can merely be the result of simple contact with a high-tier elemental of darkness or surviving exposure to a greater being of darkness. A Mark of Corruption, however, would be far worse, as its presence signifies willing participation on the part of the marked, and is a covenant, rather than just a simple marking."
While they walked in silence, Amberlin then reminded Teffrey of what occurred earlier with her divining candle. "Walker was able tell there's something wrong with my divining candle; more likely that he was able to sense that it was counter-cursed before it exhibited any effects."
Lost in contemplation, Teffrey nodded but continued walking, gesturing for Amberlin to follow, approaching an exceptionally handsome young man with striking blonde hair and blue eyes, a massive claymore secured to his back. Beside him stood an equally captivating young woman, her short, tomboyish blonde hair gorgeously complementing the two matte-black shortswords and matching armor she wore confidently.
Teffrey briefly bowed from the waist saying reverently, "Your Highnesses, Prince Talen, Princess Janiah, I bring the Cleric of the Mind, Amberlin Gallas, before you, bringing information on the unknown young man brought forward by his former Majesty on the Night of Horrors."
The two nodded almost simultaneously, eagerly. Princess Janiah in particular took a step forward before stopping and settling herself.
Teffrey rose from his bow slowly, turning to address the blue-cowled cleric. He posed one final inquiry. "Answer honestly before their Highnesses, does his peculiar behavior in camp persist each day?"
Amberlin hesitated, biting her lip briefly before tucking a few stray brunette curls back under her cowl. She gave a slight nod before speaking aloud moments later. "Aye, he's always tha' same in camp—utterly unresponsive, with vacant eyes and an empty mind. It's only out here on tha' road, when the convoy starts moving, that he comes alive. He seems normal enough then, apart from his lack of memories."
Teffrey nodded and then ordered, "Keep an eye on him while in camp at all times, if possible. You should even move into his tent so then you'll be close at hand if something happens with the marking." Teffrey was too engaged with his own strategizing that he didn't see Amberlin or Princess Janiah's shocked faces, with the cleric's face slowly turning redder and redder with anticipated shame.
Teffrey nodded, shouldered his great axe, and then said, "Give the prince and princess all the information you know about Walker, but most importantly, survive this attack." Stepping away and issuing commands, his remaining thoughts on the topics were further unknown as he prepared for the incoming attack.
***
Walker marched next to Wilford with faux confidence, yet his heart was hammering in his chest. The din of the approaching horde had only moments ago suddenly became audible, surprising the convoy as it arrived without the warning of a far-away din before it reaches crescendo.
Ahead, the highway rounded a large hill on its north side, densely covered in growth. Through the bushes, crowds of hideous creatures broke forth and ran down the hillside toward the defenders.
Undead humans and animals howled, their clotted wounds ripping open further as they raced toward the defenders attempting to tear their flesh.
Misshapen small-winged imps hobbled along on cloven feet. Spewing tufts of flame from their noses and mouths, they caught the wisps of fire and fashioned the wisps together into fireballs, much like a child might do with packing snow.
Barrel-chested, purple-skinned humanoids waved their muscular arms menacingly and roared. Their cries were painful to hear, as its head were composed of a toad-like mouth filled with teeth.
The knights clashed with these first groups of attackers as arrows and magical attacks began flying furiously uphill over the melee.
Walker took precise aim at the undead and let loose, catching his rhythm. While the undead primarily moved at a run, their pace was still slower than that of the grotesque imps, who sporadically darted through the air with rapid leaps, momentarily gliding on their small wings.
Walker's shots were mostly what one would expect, often missing his intended target but nonetheless striking nearby enemies as they rushed toward the defending lines.
Time appeared to slow as Walker sensed Wilford relentlessly firing nearby. The older man's momentum and precision proved inspiring to the younger, who promptly tried his best to emulate Wilford's stance and techniques with the bow.
The results were immediate and significant; upon adjusting his technique to mirror Wilford's, Walker's next arrow sped forward, striking an undead in the cheek and shattering its fragile skull with the force of impact.
Walker rejoiced momentarily before he continued firing, the action becoming more and more natural with each shot fired.
The attackers didn't have enough punch behind them to make a complete breach in the lines, but their unique traits caused the defenders many problems, nonetheless.
Though the undead were beaten back fairly easily due to their low resilience and health, their assaults were relentless and wore at the defender's endurance.
The imps gathered in smaller groups, spitting wisps of fire into their hands before forming it and lobbing it at archers or melee fighters that were preoccupied, to devastating effect. Those distracted were rarely able to avoid the burning orbs.
The purple humanoids, characterized by their massive mouths and numerous teeth, inflicted significant destruction. Their defeat proved challenging due to their rubbery hide, which served as resilient armor. Their hands were equipped with sharp talons, and their powerful, teeth-filled mouths tore through anything they bit, regardless of the type of armor worn.
The clerics and mages positioned behind the archers expended their energies in an effort to mitigate the devastation. The mages launched relentless attacks or concentrated on deflecting the flames.
Meanwhile, the clerics and other support casters worked tirelessly to shield their comrades or hastily cast potent healing spells to restore severed limbs before the defenders succumbed, risking not just their positions, but their very lives.
Teffrey, Prince Talen, and Princess Janiah stood vigilantly in the center of the highway with weapons at the ready, directing those supporting combatants nearby. The trio commanded the defense with precision and order, giving clear commands that didn't conflict with the others. Many times, their commands resulted in saved lives, or in the immediate slaying of the bestial purple Hunger Demons who were slowly becoming overwhelming.
Walker fell into a deep state of focus as his movements for each shot became routine and streamlined. He began to hit the attackers with better success and felt buoyant at his contributions.
As he took a breath inward and held it to both calm his nerves and secure his shot, Walker suddenly felt a chilling pain somewhere deep in his lower back while a splitting headache erupted. The pain forced him to cry out and the sound was mirrored by thousands of defenders as all nearby suffered a powerful psychic attack simultaneously.
Despite the excruciating pain he endured, Walker became aware of an unsettling sensation, akin to the feeling of being watched, accompanied by the absolute certainty that the observer harbored deadly intent. The sensation grew so intense that Walker ultimately managed to pinpoint the source:
From the hill to the north, Walker felt the menacing gaze of a red-skinned man adorned in a cape that jingled faintly in the wind. Tall and bald, the figure wore little aside from an array of leather straps and black chains. Panting heavily, he clutched two broad, curved daggers, their tips not sharpened to points but bent back toward the hilt, forming lethal, razor-edged skinning hooks.
The monstrous man continued staring at Walker as defenders nearby stopped defending; instead, they began crying out various names while the monsters tore them apart.
Walker watched on as several knights failed to take any action to stop the Hunger Demons they were fighting and were killed. Another knight stood with his spear completely lowered while staring weirdly at a Hunger Demon as it fought one of his comrades.
The knight, locked in combat with the Hunger Demon, delivered a powerful strike with his mace, but narrowly missed his target. The Hunger Demon shuffled erratically and attempted a poorly timed bite at the knight's neck. However, the knight skillfully evaded the attack, countering with a crushing blow that obliterated the demon's misshapen head.
The mace-wielder stood catching his breath when the first knight suddenly roared and stabbed at his victorious ally with his spear yelling, "You just killed my mother! You motherf-"
Walker saw many similar scenes before a familiar face, Amberlin, raised her arms to the sky and yelled out "Harmonize the spirit to manifest clarity, Resilience!"
A deep electric blue glow emanated from her and grew outward, expanding and withdrawing into the distance. Everyone touched by the permeating blue energy was revitalized and brought to clear-headedness, suddenly able to dispel whatever visions were affecting them.
Walker realized that the clinking-cape wearing man had never looked away from him, despite Amberlin's spell, because it knew he wasn't affected by it. Grinning wickedly the red-skinned man brandished his weapons and flourished his cape, which made a crystalline-clinking noise.
As the cape flew outward from the red-skinned man's flourish it seemed to undulate and grow as if alive. It split apart into numerous clinking strands before grabbing the large branches overhead and making and powerful flicking motion.
The red-skinned man was quickly lifted from the ground. The flicking motion worked to fling him over the attackers. As he flew through the air, he finally looked away from Walker, but angled himself to land a short distance away, in the midst of another group of ranged attackers, very close to Teffrey's command center.
The separated strands of the cape were now clear to see: they were sharp-ended chains attached to, and trailing behind, the red skinned man. They moved autonomously, striking at six different defenders close by with blistering speed. The attacks killed the six defenders as efficiently as one might a chicken for that evening's meal.
Teffrey, Prince Talen, and Princess Janiah, and many others nearby were not idle, despite being surprised by the red-skinned man. They quickly moved to engage him in melee, but the three were immediately hard-pressed to hold the monstrous creature back, who effectively had two arms and six additional tentacle-like helpers.
Amberlin quickly cast barriers shielding those nearby, warning, "It's a chain devil, a kyton! If we do nae kill it here, it will begin building altars to summon its kin!"
The chain devil arched an eyebrow as Amberlin yelled and he admired her openly and appreciatively thereafter as it fought. It similarly began casting lecherous glances at Princess Janiah, who managed to wound its right calf while attempting to hamstring it.
While it fought the convoy's three leaders and staff, it would frequently shift itself to be able to see Walker better. It paid attention to its fight, but eyed him with an open fascination that was clearly different from its lascivious glances at the women, but oddly just as fixated.
Though he was anxious at the prospects of such a monstrous creature being focused on him, Walker nocked another arrow and decided to return the favor, focusing his fire on it.
His first several shots were easily blocked by the floating, wavering chains that attacked and used the enviroment around to assist the chain devil in its fight. Thereafter, he was able to better guess which way the chains could move and avoided shooting through those pathways so as to circumvent them.
However, Walker became frustrated when he realized that the chain devil was incredibly agile, able to shift its body in unusual way that didn't conform to a human's anatomy that he was familiar with. It would dislodge certain joints and fold in ways that were unattainable by humans.
Teffrey and the others already bore numerous vicious wounds, while the chain devil had little more than scrapes and some thin and shallow cuts. They seemed to be slowing down as the chain devil sped up.
Walker's focus didn't waver, he kept firing shot after shot, while each were miserably inadequate. Most were shifted away by the chains or missed it entirely.
A distance away, Wilford was unable to do much as he had become separated from many others due to the breach caused by the chain devil's psychic attack. He tried to use the element of surprise to hit the chain devil but was ultimately unsuccessful. In the meantime, he nearly died to Hunger Demons and imps several times except that the mace-wielding knight had taken it upon himself to help defend the old archer.
Two chains each grabbed Princess Janiah and lifted her into the air. Meanwhile two others seemed to merge, grow longer, and stretch to grab Amberlin. The remaining chains and weapons of the chain devil easily blocked the remaining attackers and ranged attacks before it completed an odd set of steps, almost dance-like.
As it finished the dance on one foot, it seemed to vanish, but then reappeared closer to Walker, who was given a terrifying fright as it lowered it raised foot in a step towards him, grinning madly and licking its lips as it slashed wildly at him.
Walker nocked an arrow, drew it, and in his mind cried out 'ACTIVE!'
His vision darkened and sharpened simultaneously, focusing on the now statue-like chain devil.
Walker's hands moved expertly as he fired the shot. The arrow seemed to not even move as he watched. Time seemed to have stopped for a moment before it suddenly crashed into motion once more.
The arrow flashed as if disappearing before appearing right before the chain devil's face. His look of shock was comedic as the head of the arrow hit the kyton in the cheek from the left rear, passing out the right-front of its face.
It screamed out, an unholy sound of multiple voices while the chains released Amberlin and the Princess and oscillated around wildly, as if they also felt their master's pain.
The voice of the system chirped up in its mechanical feminine voice,
[You have learned the skill, 'Archery, Basic', congratulations!]
[You have learned the skill, 'Focus Fire', congratulations!]
[Author's Note: Three points. First, sorry for the lengthy delay in releases. I wasn't sure I was planning to continue with the novel, after some of the fine print involved in publishing here.
Second, although the Mark is referred to as a "Mark of Corruption" in the previous Chapter (no. 5) that was a mistake. The correct name is "Mark of Darkness" as originally stated at the end of Chapter 3. A Mark of Corruption is significantly worse, as described in this Chapter.
Finally, while some readers might find Amberlin's dialect annoying, it is an intrinsic part of who she is. Perhaps the sole reason I'm considering letting it go is because I recognize that phonetic slang of that sort is incredibly difficult to translate and I'm afraid her dialogue won't survive a machine translation. I'm already trying to figure out how to address the same issue on a bigger scale, once the story reaches Cata Boral, which is Amberlin's homeland, and Rostovo's far-away neighbor. I've thought of a few ways to fix the issue, but any other suggestions are appreciated.]