Soul of Blades - Chapter 55: The Heart of the Incursion (Patreon)

Alex stood still, his breath controlled, eyes sharp. Alone. He moved carefully, a shadow amongst the ruins. The din of distant battles sounded, but they were far behind him now.

His feet barely whispered against the worn cobblestones as he traversed the labyrinth of shattered and burning buildings. His strength and agility, now beyond mortal in their capacity, superhuman, lent him catlike grace as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop, silent as the wind.

The horizon was bleeding. A terraforming effect was spreading outward from the center of the incursion, sculpting part of the settlement into a hellish landscape. Earth hardened into molten rock, streams of lava painted fiery veins up the sides of buildings. It was a landscape reborn in ruin, a world remade by conquests unforgiving hunger. Once familiar stones morphed into volcanic rock, and bricks morphed into obsidian under the relentless transformation.

Then, he saw it.

The center. The heart of the hellscape. Illuminated by the ominous red pillar of light, in the center, was a demon unlike any he had ever seen. Atop a monstrous Brood Mother, the demon sat. It sported horns, curled back in the manner of a ram, a wild crown against the crimson sky. Sleek upwards-spouting spikes adorned its forearms, like grisly trophies.

Its eyes glowed red. The ember gaze seemed to burn the air around it. Long, black hair flowed like a night river down its lithe, muscular form. Poised, like a predator ready to pounce, it was still. Its robes played, dancing to an unseen wind.

Alex observed from the shadows.

A monstrous axe was strapped to the demon's back, the weapon dwarfed only by its bearer. His gaze traced the line of the axe, down to the creature's silent form, then up again to the blazing eyes.

The red pillar pulsed.

A procession of demons poured out from a portal at the heart of the incursion. Each was adorned in robes of lower status, a uniform of servitude to the monstrous demon lord. All of them appeared somewhat humanoid, although still muscular, large, and warped. They were much less monstrous than the demonic creatures Alex had fought over an hour ago. They seemed less like creatures, and more like people. Their numbers were steadily increasing as more entered Pyra through the portal. Eleven... then twelve... with more materialising every minute.

Then there was a flash.

At the head of the portal, a large crystal sparked into existence and grew larger with each new arrival. It was as big as Alex’s torso, shining with unholy light. It pulsated, its rhythm synced to the flow of the portal.

Alex continued his observation.

He catalogued every detail, every minute twitch of the demonic procession, every pulse of the crystal. The battle-worn warrior became a silent scholar in the shadows, his mind working through the horrors unfolding before his eyes.

The red pillar continued to burn as Alex remained in his hidden perch, watching the demonic assembly.

He waited in the shadows. The demon’s silhouette was etched in his mind, the glowing eyes, the curling horns. He catalogued the details, every visual cue, every aspect his surrounding and its demonic origins.

A strategy began to form.

His eyes narrowed, focusing on the crystal. Its rhythm, its growth, the way it flashed with every new entry. It must be a beacon, he reasoned. A siren calling out to the demonic procession, and their waypoint to this world. The crystal pulsed as if guiding them to this world from cosmic pathways, similar to the portal he encountered in the dungeon. If I could disrupt it somehow… The thought came to him unbidden. But that was…

"A suicide mission," he whispered to himself. 

His gaze fell on the strange axe wielding demon, sitting atop the brood mother, lording over the procession of humanoid demons. Its unblinking gaze staring into the incursion. Alex noted the alertness, the tensed muscles, the readiness to leap into action. If he attacked, there would be no hesitation from this creature.

But what choice do I have? He sighed internally.

He glanced back towards the chaos behind him. The town was burning, their defences crumbling under the onslaught. They needed a miracle.

His hands tightened around his sword, the cold metal a familiar comfort. He had his superhuman stats, his agility, his strength. It wasn’t much against this new demon horde, and their uniformed guard, but it was all he had.

A memory fluttered into his mind. A lesson from his grandpa— his master. "Sometimes, the best strategy is not to defeat the enemy, but to disrupt their plans."

Disruption.

He eyed the procession again, the line of demon guard spilling into this world. If he could destabilise the portal, cut off reinforcements...

"Yeah," he murmured. "Disruption."

The plan was a gamble. One false step, one unnoticed move, and it would all be over. But he had to try.

He studied the route, the pillars of obsidian offering a stealthy approach. His heart began to hammer in anticipation, adrenaline already kicking in. He took a calming breath, held it, and then let it out slowly to lower his pulse. It was a practice he had used many times in his life, his grandfather having taught it to him, telling him stories of how some snipers used the same method to slow their heartbeats and increase their aim the moment before a kill. And the method had never failed him.

"Just stay alive, Alex." he muttered, a silent promise to himself.

His gaze returned to the red pillar, its light reflecting in his determined eyes. He was one man against many, and what looked like a demon lord. The odds were against him.

And yet, he only grew more excited.

His grip tightened around his sword, curiosity sparkling in his gaze. He’d face these odds, defy them. For his goals, to get back to his family, he’d face Hell itself.

His mind was set.

The red pillar continued to glow, the demonic assembly growing. Alex remained in the shadows, his sharp senses locked onto the demonic procession, attempting to decipher their alien language. His heart pounded a steady calm rhythm, the beat of a seasoned warrior, not of fear, but anticipation.

"Hail the 4th Prince," a robed demon greeted, bending in deep reverence. The 4th prince. Alex tilled, letting the information sink in. A title? His blood chilled. The peculiar demon was royalty, a prince. The demons were an organised force, and not mindless savages. It was a grim revelation, but unsurprising. 

"D'rak'ar," one demon uttered, raising a spiked claw towards the sky, "More kin, slaves and warriors shall soon join. The remaining crystals will arrive in ten minutes, along with the Mana Converter. The conquest will begin soon."

Alex's lips pressed together, processing this. Even more demons, more soldiers, and more slaves. The thought of additional crystals and the mention of a "Mana converter", it all spun a tale of imminent escalation. A sense of dread and urgency tightened in his chest, his mind churning new strategies with the implications of what he had just heard.

He would have to act fast, and soon.

"R'jdar," another demon hissed, a sneer creeping into his voice, "This has taken far too long. When your siblings arrive, things will be different. The princes and princess, they will surely cow these savages within the hour."

The prince's swift response to the mention of his siblings caught Alex’s attention. The tension in the prince's posture, the clenched jaw. He reached behind him, his demonic fingers grazing the monstrous axe strapped to his. At his touch, a pulse of force exploded from the axe, ripping through the air and severing the arm of the demon who spoke against him. A shriek of agony filled the air. The prince's red eyes burned with malice as he glared at the demon on the ground.

"Speak again, and you will lose more than your arm."

Alex's eyes narrowed. The prince's brutal display of authority sent a clear message. He was volatile, powerful, but the mention of his siblings... He turned over this new information. He has older, more capable siblings... It was another piece of the puzzle, one that weighed heavily on the strategy forming in his mind.

There's no way in hell I'm letting them into this world, Alex steeled himself with conviction.

He would need to stealthily destroy the crystal before the Prince's powerful siblings arrived. Destroying the crystal would hopefully stop the influx of demons into this world, as it seemed directly related to the number and frequency of demonic troops entering the incursion through the portal. And then he would need to swiftly escape back to the settlement's main force.

Then, and only then, could he take out the prince with Lyra and her party's help, and the rest of the settlement's warriors supporting him. 

The plan would work, and his strategy was sound.

He exhaled slowly, steadying his gaze, watching the chaos unfolding before him. His hand rested lightly on the hilt of his sword, his body thrummed with the tension of the moment. The odds were daunting, but not insurmountable.

He could do this.

I can do this, he rose to his feet, poised, ready.

His eyes slid back to the prince, to the source of the incursion, and to the pulsing crystal. This was it, the pivot point of the battle. Every instinct urged him, it was time to move, time to intervene. His strategies aligned, his predictions clicked into place.

His breath steadied. His hand tightened on his sword. He had ten minutes.

And Alex stepped forward, ready to act.