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The Forsaken Hero-Chapter 784: Intervention
Chapter 784: Intervention
I was trapped, alone in the midst of several battlefields. All around us, demons and undead threw themselves at each other. The packs Incinderus had encircled me with held, but what did that matter now that Victor and Lord Evlon had broken through?
R’lissea and Connor were still locked in battle, though there was something strange about it. Connor’s scythe swung half-heartedly, still decidedly visible from my perspective. He had reached the beginning stages of eighth-level, yet never used anything stronger than a sixth-level technique to fend off R’lissea’s summons. The life hero, for her part, was giving it her all, but it was only enough to keep him from wandering. She gave me a frustrated, helpless look, her eyes stricken with terror at finding me with Victor’s spear to my throat.
All around me, my allies were engaged in battle and unable to come to my aid. Fyren and Zephyriss both were just minutes away, and Borealis and Fable seconds, but they might as well have been eternities. No one would be able to get close without Victor plunging his spear into my throat.
Only...my soul was still, and my mind calm. There was no sign of the Oracle of Eternity, which warned me of mortal danger. I stared up at them with clear eyes and slowly got to my feet. Victor’s spear point trembled slightly, barely an inch from my exposed throat, but I didn’t hunch my shoulders or tuck my chin.
"Do it," Evlon said, keeping his sword trained on Fable, who now paced around us.
"I should cut you down where you stand," Victor said, voice shaking slightly. "You killed Levin. You’ve murdered thousands, and allowed hundreds of thousands to be slain."
"I’ve done what I must," I replied, trying not to let my fear show. "This world is caught between demons and gods. They need a star. I’ve done what I must. You have to believe me."
The justice hero’s grip tightened on his spear. His hammer and sword jumped around agitated, allowing Borealis a breath of air. He wheeled around, mustering his mana, but I urged him to hang back with Fable.
"Do it, hero. Kill her," Evlon shouted.
"I...saw something," Victor said. "A future."
The inquisitor adjusted his grip on his sword, a bead of sweat trickling down the side of his face. He gritted his teeth, glaring at Victor.
"We all did. That’s how we got this opportunity in the first place," he growled.
Victor’s spear wavered, drawing back a hair. Despite my apparent composure, I let out a slow breath, my tail relaxing slightly.
"The Heart Crest. If the people have already chosen to worship the gods, why is it necessary?"
"Do not buy her lies. Look around us! She sides with the demons. Is it just to let her roam free?"
"And we side with Risen, corpses of fifty thousand innocent elves and humans."
"They chose their lot when their leaders decided to ally themselves with the demons."
"We’re still negotiating with the elves! Do they even know what you allowed Connor to do?" Victor cried. He turned, his spear falling away entirely. "She warned me this might happen, that I needed to see clearly. But I...Justice is blind, so I closed my eyes. I followed the warmth, but now that I finally look around, it doesn’t come from the light of truth. And there can be no justice without truth. Justice may be blind, but I...I was not."
As if to emphasize his words, an explosion of auras surged onto the battlefield, cutting into the Risen’s flank. My skin crawled as a brilliant blast of sun magic detonated close by, vaporizing demons and Risen alike. Every instinct told me to run from the magic, to renew my wards lest it scorch me, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the volatile situation in front of me. With my limited reaction time, I had to be prepared for what came next, no matter what it might be.
"I saved you, hero, you can’t refuse this," Evlon said.
Victor barked a bitter laugh, ripped one of the magic items soothing his corruption, a medallion, off. He held it up in his hand. With a start, I realized his gauntlet was solid, animated, and bound to his wrist by magic. He’d lost his hand, the stump seared by Corruption, making it unhealable. He dropped the medallion on the ground, crushing it under his boot.
"Saved? Preserved, more like it. Every day, every second, agonizing pain. Perhaps that’s what has clouded by judgment for so long. Even if it’s just to sacrifice so many as Risen, and the filthblood is as vile as I believe, I’m in no position to make that call. If you want her dead, do it yourself."
Evlon’s teeth grated. He glanced at Fable and Borealis, then at me, his gaze calculating. Just as I was trapped, so was he. He’d burned too much mana to get close to me to stand against Fable now.
"Undead Hero!" he roared.
R’lissea cried out in surprise as Connor suddenly unleashed his full power, cutting the wing off a life dragon and decapitating a treant. As their elemental bodies collapsed, disintegrating to black pulp, he streaked past her, brushing against her with an arrogant smirk. She spun around, eyes wide, as he stopped beside Evlon. The inquisitor took a breath, some of the tension leaving his shoulders.
"You called?" Connor asked.
"Victor has betrayed us."
Connor eyed the other inquisitors, still trapped in the Mirror Locks. "As are your allies. You’re kind of stuck, aren’t you.."
Evlon glared at him. "Don’t mock me, Hero. Do what we came here to do?"
"You know the price," Connor said.
"It will be paid."
"Ornth. I want Ornth."
"Fine, just do it."
"And her," Connor said, crooking a finger at me. "I want her."
I took a step back, shudders running up and down my tail. His gaze was different from the men who lusted after me, different even than the demons who hungered for my soul. It was one of pure, naked desire. I felt more than naked in front of him, a feeling of exposure combined with the touch of a knife at my throat.
"Just do it!" Evlon spat. "I only need the staff."
"Finally. I was starting to think I sacrificed my army for nothing," Connor said. He flipped his scythe up, catching the glint of the sun on the dull blade. My blood went cold, and I looked at Victor, but he stood back with his arms folded, scowling at the ground. His armaments hovered around him like angry wasps.
"Sorry, Xiviyah. Nothing personal," Connor said. "But if it’s any comfort, you’ll finally have a chance to be useful."
A burst of fire roared from the side, sweeping between us. I jumped in surprise, distracted for a single heartbeat. That heartbeat was enough.
I didn’t see him move or get a chance to activate the Oracle of Eternity. One moment he was taking a step toward me, the next his sword was an inch before my face. I fell back, screaming, waiting for it to descend, but it didn’t. It hovered there, straining back and forth.
Peeking through my fingers, I followed the blade up to the haft, and gasped. There was a hand gripping it, a calloused, feminine hand, shrouded in water mana.
"That’s close enough," Korra said, straining under the weight of Connor’s scythe. "Get the hell away from her!"
She twisted, pulling the scythe to the side while at the same time lashing out with her foot. Connor stumbled forward, burying his scythe in the ground. A massive spoke of undead mana jetted away, carving a canyon not too feet from where I braced my hand on the ground. I screamed again, jerking back, but not before Korra’s foot landed on his chest.
The concussive blast threw me across the ground. I bit my tongue mid-scream and tasted blood, my body breaking in several places. I ground spun beneath me, and I braced myself, wondering if I would even survive the landing.
There was a flash of silver, and a bed of fur. I landed hard, but Fable softened my blow, using his mana to cushion my fall. I ended up coughing blood, but nothing broke, and my vision cleared up immediately.
Connor and Korra stood frozen for a heartbeat, her foot against his chest. Then, he staggered back, hacking a glob of blood. He wiped his mouth, coughing violently. A few small tendrils of water mana lingered from the blow, seeping into his armor, weakening the enchantments.
"The hell, Korra?" he gasped. "Where did you–"
Evlon lunged past him, sword held in both hands, raised over his head. His aura filled my vision with light, blinding and scorching me through adaptive resistance. Korra moved like a serpent, somehow managing to interpose between me and the descending sword. She crossed her forearms, summoning a small sphere around her.
The blade cleaved through the magical art, but caught on her mana-reinforced arms. She grunted, dropping to a knee as it bit deep, oozing rivulets of blood down her arms. He raised his sword to strike again, but Borealis came from the side, slamming into his shoulder. He cried in pain as talons lanced across his forearm, slicing through his armor and drawing blood.
Soft hands grabbed me, pulling me from Fable’s fur. I coughed up more blood, my entire body aching, but still, as soothing life magic flowed over me.
"I’ve got you," R’lissea said, putting my arm over her shoulder and helping me to my feet.
Evlon flung Borealis off, breathing heavily. Their small, seconds-long clash had left another crater some thirty feet wide, filled with massive ice shards and roaring sun magic. If Korra hadn’t raised another shield, it might have killed me even through R’lissea’s magic.
"Korra," I whispered, blinking away tears of pain and relief. "You came."
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