Realm of Monsters-Chapter 615: Death’s Touch

Chapter 615: Death’s Touch

“My lord and lady, forgive me for the interruption.” A messenger stood in the balcony’s doorway, breathless.

Stryg sat up. “What is it?”

“The army has just returned. They are at the city gates.”

Stryg and Feli shared a curious glance. “Are they Cairn elders with them?” he asked.

The messenger shook his head and wiped the sweat from his brow. “I do not know, my lord. General Harlan gave me little information, save that he wanted to speak to you personally. He did not look very well…”

“Explain.” Stryg stood to his feet and Feli helped him put his shirt back on.

“There were bandages all over his body. His head, arms, legs…” the messenger explained.

Harlan was a Gale, an older one at that. He was a swordmaster whom few could rival. If he had bandages then he had suffered wounds so deep that not even the white mages on hand could have healed them entirely. What sort of battle had Harlan gotten himself into?

“I might be late for dinner,” Stryg whispered to Feli.

She nodded and wrapped Blossom over his shoulders. “Go.”

“Lead the way,” he gestured to the messenger.

~~~

The messenger led Stryg to a private barracks owned by House Veres that was stationed between the Commoner District and the shade wall. The soldiers’ eyes went wide when they spotted Stryg in his cloak of flowers and they hurried to move out of his way.

Many of the soldiers were injured, but it didn’t stop them from bowing as low as they could when he walked past. Stryg found Harlan resting on a chair in what was presumably his office. He was hunched over, elbows on his knees.

“Lord Stryg of House Veres,” the messenger introduced him at the door before departing.

Harlan rose from his chair with a wince and stood at attention and a bow of his head. “My lord—”

“Please, sit.”

“As you wish, my lord.” Harlan sat down slowly, this time trying his best to hide his pain. The man looked far worse than when Stryg had last seen him. His white beard was haggard and covered in flecks of blood.

Stryg dragged a chair over from the other side of the desk and sat down right in front of Harlan. “How bad is it?”

“I’m fine, truly.”

“Take off your cloak and shirt.”

Harlan was at a loss and tried to seek a way to decline, but in the end, he gave up and did as he was ordered. His entire chest and abdomen were wrapped in bloodied bandages.

Stryg unconsciously balled his fists. The idea that someone had hurt a Gale to such a degree ignited an indignant rage within him. Suddenly, he recalled Melantha’s words and his need for control. His power was too volatile to let his emotions rule him. Stryg took a deep breath and pushed the anger down until it was a cold fire in the pit of his stomach.

He unclenched his fists and with his index finger, he ran a claw down Harlan’s side, slicing the bandages apart with ease. Stryg’s eyes narrowed at the sight. The pale vampire’s skin was covered in purple bruises and red gashes, some deep enough to see bone.

“The white mages did nothing to help you?” Stryg asked, an edge to his voice.

“There were many others who were injured. I had our healers focus their efforts on them instead.”

“I see.” Stryg channeled White, hovered his hands over the wounds, and began casting a healing spell. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

“My lord, you need not waste your energy on me—”

“I waste nothing.” He would brook no argument, not from this.

Harlan sighed a quiet breath of relief as one of the deeper gashes closed and he sunk ever so slightly in his chair, exhaustion clear in his face. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“What did this to you, General Gale?”

“...I failed you, my lord.”

“You’re alive, aren’t you? I’m familiar with failure and if there is anything I’ve learned it’s that so long as you draw breath we can redeem our failures.” Stryg gave him a wry grin, “Or at least, I like to think so.”

Harlan kept his eyes on the floor, not daring to meet Stryg’s eyes. “I failed to bring back any of the elders, my lord.”

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“Tell me what happened.”

“We had been tracking their tribe for about a week. We finally managed to catch them by surprise early one morning. We had their entire encampment surrounded. My second-in-command, Captain Rissa, handled the negotiations. They went well. She was always good with people.”

Harlan clenched his eyes closed, as if trying to bury a memory, then pushed on. “The negotiations were almost complete. The elders had willingly chosen to come with us back to the city, but when we began to put manacles on their wrists, a little girl, an elder’s daughter, ran to him in hysteria. Captain Rissa picked her up and tried to calm her, but the child ripped out Rissa’s throat with her fangs.”

“What?” Stryg blinked. It was an effective way to dislodge yourself from an enemy’s restraints, but Rissa wasn’t a threat.

Harlan took Stryg’s pause as some form of shock and tried to explain himself, “The girl was terrified we were going to kill her father. She was scared, panicked.” Harlan sighed. “But what she did… I was shocked. I didn’t react fast enough. Captain Vern Blackvein cut the child down before anyone could react. Her father retaliated with a powerful storm spell that caught me off guard. It was only a few moments, but by the time I came to, our soldiers and their warriors were already deep in battle. Everyone loved Captain Rissa and they’d all follow Captain Vern to the ends of the world to avenge her. But this… This wasn’t vengeance. This was the madness and frenzy of war.”

This was bad, Stryg realized with a sinking feeling. He needed the Cairn elders if there was any hope of brokering a peace treaty. If the Veres’ own army had killed a child and most likely plenty of their warriors in the middle of a negotiation then… “What happened after?” Stryg asked.

Harlan clasped his hands together. “I tried to stop them, but I was under attack by two elders, powerful mages. By the time I managed to wrestle back control of our army, it was over. They were all dead.”

“The Cairn warriors?” Stryg grimaced.

“No. Their tribe.”

“What?”

“The Cairn Tribe, they’re dead. The elderly. The women. The children. Our army overran their encampment and set fire to their tents. No one was spared. I failed you, my lord.” Harlan bowed his head, “I will accept my punishment.”

“Where is this Captain Vern?” he asked in a detached voice.

“My lord, I am the general of our legion. The responsibility lies on me and me alone.”

“I asked you a question.”

“Vern is heir to House Blackvein. The Blackveins are a Great House that support House Veres. If something were to happen to their heir—”

Stryg left the room without hearing the rest of his words. He found a soldier walking past and grabbed his shoulder. “Where is Captain Vern?”

The soldier stiffened and nodded repeatedly, “R-R-Right this way, my lord.”

~~~

Captain Vern was resting on a cot in the infirmary of the barracks, alongside dozens of other wounded soldiers. The sight of Stryg sent waves of whispers throughout the infirmary and Vern quickly noticed his approach. He pushed himself to his feet with a single arm, the other was in a sling. His right eye was covered in a bandage, as was most of his body.

“You’re Vern Blackvein?” Stryg asked.

“I am, my lord,” Vern used the wall to steady himself and lowered his back in a bow.

“Then you are an imbecile,” Stryg snapped. “Do you have any idea what you have done?”

Vern swallowed and kept his eyes on the ground. “I will accept any punishment you deem fit.”

“You did not answer my question.”

Vern met his gaze, his red eye steady with grim acceptance. “I avenged my brothers and sisters.”

“Avenged?” Stryg scoffed. “You’ve doomed them. Do you think this ends with the Cairn? Now that you’ve wiped out their tribe, the other Valley Tribes will never give in. They will never accept peace. They will all fight to the very last one. How many of your brothers and sisters have you doomed to fight in that endless war!? Tell me, Captain Vern!?”

Vern broke his gaze in shame. “I… They killed Rissa. She meant everything to me. If the tribes had taken someone you loved would you not have done the same?”

Stryg walked up to his face and growled in a quiet, seething voice. “Marek killed my brother, you don’t think I understand your pain? Your hatred? But protecting my loved ones who still live is more important. Hollow Shade is exposed, every city-state in the Realm is eyeing us, searching for weak points to strike. We need to broker peace with our enemy. And you’ve taken that from us.”

“...If Marek had been among their tribe, would you have stopped at anything to get to him?” Vern asked.

Stryg’s face twitched with rage and his face broke into a glare. In the span of a breath, he drew Krikolm and disemboweled Vern. The vampire gasped, but no breath came as he collapsed, trying to hold his insides from spilling all over the floor and failing. The pool of blood forming on the floor rose into Krikolm’s scarlet blade in small trickles.

“I don’t… ugh,” Vern choked on his blood and smiled bitterly. “I don’t… regret it.”

The deep cold sensation of chaos settled over Stryg as he looked down at the dying man. “You’ve condemned countless of our people to die. Death will not be your escape.”

The temperature dropped in the hall and frost covered the edge of the windows. The potions and elixirs in the cupboards and tables began to shake uncontrollably, then shattered. Bits of glass and ceramic floated into the air all around the hall. People shouted in fear and trembled in confusion.

Stryg’s lilac eyes were alight with power. “May your soul never find rest in the Soul Chasm, Vern, son of Blackvein. May you spend eternity separated from your love, never to reunite. And may your bloodline die with the countless you’ve condemned.”

The hall grew eerily silent as his words settled in the air like invisible chains locking into place. Vern’s expression grew shaky and a tear ran down his eye, before his final breath escaped his lips.

Stryg abruptly felt weak as if his breath had slipped from him. He began to tip over and he leaned on Krikolm for balance. Half the red blade sank into the floor.

“What have you done?” a familiar voice whispered in horror.

Stryg looked back to find Gale in the doorway. She rushed to him and helped him up. He blinked the sudden weariness from his eyes and leaned on Gale for support. “I don’t know,” he muttered.

Elise Veres strode into the infirmary hall and took in the scene with one glance. “Gale, take my cousin away. I’ll deal with this.”

“What are you two doing here?” Stryg asked as Gale helped him to the door.

“Elise has eyes and ears everywhere. She heard the army had returned and that you left the manor without a guard, again. She was worried you were going to do something stupid. Which of course, she was right. Gods, I hate it when she’s right.”

Stryg winced at the tone of her voice. “I’m sorry.” He was too tired to argue against her.

The ground shook as a deafening howl echoed in the distance. Gale and Stryg shared a look. “I think Lunae wants to talk to you.”

He hung his head. “Shit.”