The Fell War - Chapter 22 (Patreon)

They left early in the morning, before the sun could peek over the horizon. Alfre, dressed once more in the Cloak of Night’s Shadows, slipped through the side gate that Ren’s infiltrators had used atop Beira. Behind her, atop their own steeds, came Spica, Elias, Ran, Izo, and Hadi. Abital settled in her shadow, his presence warm and heavy in the back of her mind. Canus trotted beside her in wolf form. They seemed like such a non-entity that they rode straight past the still sleeping Granato army, now camped just a mile outside of the city walls, without alerting the watchmen of their presence.

Alfre clutched at Beira’s fur as they passed. There were fifteen Fell unaccounted for. Two hundred and fifteen slept with the main Granato fighting force. Seventy were trapped in the building Ren had commandeered to use as a makeshift jail. That had to mean that the remaining fifteen were still in Rubino with the Emperor. Those concerned her the most. Wonderlanders they could handle no problem. Fell…Fell were stronger than Wonderlanders to a fault. They had more abilities and more hit points and more weapons they could use. If the Emperor had kept back the fifteen strongest of the White Knights or whatever the hell the guild called itself, they might actually be in trouble.

Rubino was not a large city, not in the way the Fell cities were. It was compact, narrow houses clustered together along uniformly laid out streets. Towering walls kept the citizens in and invading armies out, especially with the gates closed as they were.

“Okay, this wall we can’t just sneak through,” Spica observed from where they perched atop a hill some distance away from the city itself.

Elias glanced at her, an almost out-of-place smirk on his lips. “Maybe you can’t. But we magicians have a few tricks up our sleeves that might help in this situation.”

Alfre looked blatantly eager at the idea. “Are you going to pull us out of your hat?”

Elias tipped his top hat at her. “I’m going to pull us out of my hat. As long as I have a visual on our destination, I can pull it off. I can land us on the top of the wall and then, once the spell has cooled down, I can plop us down in the city itself.”

Spica shot Elias a proud smile. “I knew you had your uses, dear.”

“Anything to impress you, starlight.”

Canus rolled his eyes. “You two are disgusting.”

“And you are a hypocrite,” Elias retorted. He flipped his hat over his hand, the brim of it growing impossibly wide. “Hop in everyone. Best leave the steeds here, they won’t be much use to us on top of a wall.” Beira whined at him, and Elias quickly amended his statement. “Except you, Beira. You can always come with us.”

Beira didn’t bother waiting long after that to dive headfirst into the portal Elias’ hat made, dragging Alfre along with her. It was a strange sensation, traveling hundreds of feet in a second. It made Alfre a little nauseous, but not enough to slow her down. She and Beira pressed themselves low against the top of the wall, so as not to be seen by any patrols, be they atop the wall or below. Spica came through next, doing much the same the moment she was through. Hadi was next, followed by Canus, then Ran and Izo, and finally Elias.

“Everyone good?” He asked, replacing his hat. “We’ll have to wait a solid minute for the spell to come back. Unless someone has another way we can get down.”

Alfre rolled her eyes, hoping down from Beira. “Why have cool down time, when you can be cool and get down in no time.”

“Alfre that was awful, and I want you to never do it again,” Abital said flatly from her shadow.

Alfre laughed, already building an ice slide down the side of the wall. “Just get ready to go fast.”

The moment the slide was complete, she jumped on, sliding down at extraordinary speeds. She could hear the whoops and hollers of her friends as they came behind her.

“That’s the most fun I’ve had in a while,” Izo gasped as he skidded across the cobblestones at the bottom of the slide, only barely able to keep his balance.

“Don’t let Ran know, he might get jealous,” Spica teased.

“Jealous of what?” Ran asked, coming off the slide mere moments later.

Izo shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Worry about the fact we were very loud just then, and the city doesn’t seem…noisy in the slightest.”

“That is concerning,” Hadi murmured. And he was right, the city, despite how crowded it seemed, was quiet. There were footsteps in the distance, but the loud chattering that seemed to emanate from cities was absent.

“They may not recognize what the noise meant, even if they did hear it,” Alfre said, melting her ice slide into vapor. She could only hope she was right.

There were few alleyways in Rubino, and those that existed were terribly narrow and dark. Alfre led her friends through one tiny backstreet to the next, desperate to keep her team unnoticed and safe until they reached the palace grounds. Much of the palace grounds had been made into something of a public park, it being the only real green space in the city other than tiny flower boxes and small rooftop gardens. They kept to the shadows, unnoticed thanks to Spica and Abital’s interference. There was a distressing lack of guards along the castles outer wall.

“This feels like a trap,” Ran whispered.

“It probably is,” Alfre agreed. “But we’ve come too far now. We need to at least make an attempt. If it goes well, then all the better.”

Elias teleported them inside the fence using his hat.

“We could have hopped the fence,” Hadi pointed out.

Alfre shot him an offended look. “Beira couldn’t.”

Hadi looked like he was trying very hard not to roll his eyes.

They crossed the open courtyard, each and every one of them feeling like eyes were on them. Alfre kept a tense hand on the hilt of her rapier. This was a trap. She was leading her friends into a trap. But she had to! Or the war between Granato and the Fell in the city of Heart might never end. She had to end it. She had to. For Hadi. For Einmora and Makoto. For the little ones who’d been forced to leave their homes. For the ones who’d been trapped there. For Olivia and Tori. For herself.

There were two Wonderlander guards at a small side door they found. Spica made quick work of the two of them with well-thrown needles. The party slipped through the door, finding themselves in a small kitchen. It was empty, save for the kitchen equipment. It looked like it was rarely used, a thin layer of dust covering the counter tops and the stove.

“What’s this for, I wonder?” Elias whispered.

“Probably to cook in during the winter,” Hadi replied. “Often times, in places as large as this, there will be multiple smaller kitchens alongside the main one. When it is cold, those who live and work in this wing will have their meals cooked here, so that they don’t grow cold before they are brought to whoever’s going to eat it.”

“Seems like a terrible indulgence,” Izo murmured.

“Doesn’t matter how indulgent it is,” Alfre hissed. She cracked open the door, peeking out into the hallway. No one was guarding the kitchen. But then again, who would think to guard a kitchen? “Let’s go.”

They stepped out into the hallway. They were in the belly of the beast now; there was no real way they were going to be able to sneak their way through this one. Alfre led them down the seemingly never-ending corridor, passed identical door after identical door.

“This doesn’t feel right,” Elias said. “There’s no way this hallway should be this long.”

“An illusion?” Spica speculated.

Elias nodded. “That’s the only thing I can think of.”

“Great,” Ran grumbled. “How do we break it?”

Alfre drew her rapier. “Like this.” She thrust the blade into the nearest door, shards of ice exploding out from the point in every direction. Her vision swam and warped, fighting against her. She stabbed again, and the illusion broke, shattering much like Wonderlanders did.

Standing before them was a small army of Fell, fourteen in all. Standing at the very front, the apparent leader of the band, was a dragonling gunner, bronze scales running up his neck to cover his jaw and cheekbones.

“Well, well,” he purred, “looks like Summer was right. They did send a bunch of rats to infest our kingdom.”

“Your kingdom?” Ran echoed incredulously. “This is the Granato capital, it belongs to the Wonderlanders.”

“Did belong to the Wonderlanders,” the dragonling corrected smugly. “Summer kicked the emperor’s ass about a week back. It’s ours now. And soon the whole continent will be ours. Just gotta take care of those upstart kids in Heart first.”

“So you did know they were kids,” Alfre snarled. “You knew about it, and you still attacked them! What kind of messed up, bullshit excuse do you have for that, huh?”

The dragonling shrugged. “No excuse, really. We just wanted to. Now that it’s not a game anymore, we don’t have to follow any of those stupid rules. We can take over the whole continent. And we should. We’re the White Knights! We were the first guild ever made on Ahmar. This place is ours by right. The rest of those wannabe losers can shove right off.”

“Hey, Kilrakas,” an elven sorcerer spoke up. “Shouldn’t we just kill these guys and be done with it? I don’t think Summer would be too happy if we accidentally let them go.”

“We’ll be fine,” the dragonling, Kilrakas, laughed. “There’s no way these losers can beat us. We’re the highest level players in Ahmar.”

“Are you now?” a strangely familiar voice asked mockingly. “And what level would that be?”

“Seventy-five,” Kilrakas proclaimed proudly.

A figure stepped out of the shadows; a recognizable elemental rifle held loosely at their side. Traveler lifted her weapon, pointing it right at the dragonling’s heart. “That’s nice.”

A burst of flame erupted from the end of the barrel, a bullet of glowing red crystal flying out and striking Kilrakas right dead center in his chest. The dragonling flew back, his resistance to fire the only thing that saved him.

Alfre stopped Kilrakas’ trip across the polished marble floor with her foot and a rapier through the throat. “Traveler! What are you doing here?”

“Well, you see, after I left the Crystal Moon Kingdom, I traveled around for a bit. You know, had to live up to my name,” Traveler explained blithely as fighting broke out between the two groups. “And I caught wind of what was going on here in Ahmar, rumors of another element blade rising in the ranks of the White Knights and ousting the previous guild master. Then the war broke loose, and I couldn’t just leave, you know. Had to do something about the whole thing. So, I’ve been playing spy for the last few months. I’ve learned so much. Like, did you know the leader these jokers have been half worshiping this whole time is only level forty-five? They started at the same time as you, Alfre. The reason they’re so strong is because the developers accidentally made the element blade class super over-powered. And since there’s no longer any developers to fix things, they stayed that way.”

“That explains why you’re so strong despite your level,” Elias commented, debuffing half the enemy party.

“Sod off, I’m level sixty,” Alfre shot back, bringing down a rain of icy needles.

“How is it that Alfre’s at such a high level compared to this other element blade?” Izo asked, wrapping the elven sorcerer in vines and slamming him back and forth between the ceiling and floor.

“Ahmar is considered the starting continent for a reason,” Ran explained, shooting down an oncoming knight with ease. “Most of the mobs here are weak as hell and don’t give much in the way of experience points. Siniy, by comparison, is a much more difficult continent and gives out experience to match. Alfre’s been on Siniy from the beginning and has reaped the benefits of the higher experience loads most of the mobs there carry.”

“Also, we’ve been going on mostly small party raids,” Spica added, stabbing a fellow assassin in the back. “You get a lot more experience if you’re raiding with two or three partners than you do if you go with ten.”

“Plus, she’s been fighting mobs, not fellow players,” Hadi said, smacking a dwarven hunter away with his staff. “You don’t get experience points in pvp combat unless it’s a sanctioned duel.”

“So, basically, whoever this Summer person is has been shooting themselves in the foot experience wise the whole time,” Canus surmised right before biting a knight’s throat out.

“Pretty much!” Traveler agreed breezily. “At least, last time I checked they were only level fifty. That was at the beginning of the war. If they’ve killed the Mad Emperor boss, they’re likely much higher now.”

“Oh, trust me,” a new voice cooed. “I’ve always been much higher.”

The soft click-clack sound of boots on marble echoed in the hallway as those remaining White Knights fell silent. Alfre gripped the hilt of her rapier with a trembling hand, the other reaching out and finding Beira’s fur. Out of the shadows of the dimly lit hallway came a woman dressed in black and gold. She stood far taller than Alfre, her heels only adding to her impressive stature. Her flaming golden-red hair fell like molten metal down her back. She held the hilt of a katana made of some unknowable black metal loosely in her hand. Her eyes were golden embers, staring Alfre and company down with nothing more than mild curiosity.

“You’ve only ever known my summer blade level, Hero,” the woman said, her voice smooth and unworried. “I’ve been playing the game far longer than you realize. I just reclassed right after the Incident. How could I not? The class shares my name.”

“So you’re Summer?” Alfre challenged. “You’re the one who torched down half the fourth district? You’re the one who sent children running, scared for their lives? For what? What’s your excuse? Do you think this is just a game, like your stupid followers?”

“Oh, no, this is definitely not a game,” Summer agreed. “A game doesn’t let you feel the heat of fire. A game doesn’t let you smell the burning wood. A game doesn’t let you feel the flesh of a man give under your blade. No, little girl, this is definitely not a game. This is real life.”

Alfre felt at a loss for words. This woman was perfectly aware of what she was doing, didn’t bother to hide it behind a weak excuse like the others. And yet, she did it anyway. “Then why…?”

“Because I can,” Summer replied with a shrug. “Because I have the power to shape the world as I choose. And I choose to create a world where the strong, the fast, the betterare rewarded for being what they are. The rest can fuck off somewhere else.”

“You sound like a bleedin’ Nazi, you know that, right?” Alfre shouted, unable to fully grasp her opponent’s motivation. How could someone actually think like this? Who on earth thought that this sort of thing was a good idea?

“I sound like a Nazi because I don’t agree in coddling the weak?” Summer challenged. “That term is thrown around far too loosely nowadays. I’m just saying, in a world like this, it has to be survival of the fittest. And if you’re not fit, then you don’t deserve to take up space on my continent.”

“It’s not your continent!” Alfre argued. “You can’t lay claim to a whole continent! It belongs to the Wonderlanders who were here before you. It belongs to the Fell who explore it and call it home. It belongs to everyone.”

“Maybe it’s not mine yet,” Summer agreed. “But it will be soon enough. Granato Empire is the largest nation on the continent. If I can defeat it, then the other Wonderlander kingdoms will fall in due time. And once I have their armies on my side, the city of Heart will be a thing of the past.”

“I don’t get it,” Elias admitted. “I thought the Granato wanted the Fell gone and put up a quest. Are you saying you were behind this all along?”

“Oh, no, not all along,” Summer corrected smoothly. “Granato did indeed create a quest to expel the players from Heart. I just took advantage of the situation to further my own agenda.”

“You realize there is no way to spin this to make you the good guy,” Alfre argued. “You will never be seen as the hero. You’re the villain here.”

Summer smiled, all teeth and warning. “The villains always were my favorites.”

“That does it!” Alfre roared, launching herself forward, rapier pointed directly at Summer’s throat.

A gasp tore from her throat when Summer actually managed to dodge, Alfre blade singing through the air. Alfre tumbled forward, rolling along the polished marble floors. She’d missed. How had she missed, no one was fast enough to dodge her attacks. No one! Her shocked blue eyes rose to meet Summer’s smug golden gaze.

“Like I said, I’ve been playing this game far longer than you think I have.” She said, voice calm and confident. “You see; I was a monk up until the Incident. Level seventy-two. While my abilities reset when I reclassed into a summer blade, by stats all stayed the same. Yeah, I’m level forty-five, but I have the stats of someone who not only hit the level one hundred cap, but went beyond it. A nice little glitch in the reclassing system no one bothered to report to the admins, because why would you?”

Alfre cursed under her breath as she righted herself, the point of her blade digging into the soft marble of the floor.

Summer smirked. “I am so beyond anything you weaklings can handle. I probably don’t even need an army to take down Heart. But that wouldn’t be nearly as fun. I always did like playing chess.”

“Shove off!” Alfre shouted, readying herself for another attack. Her opponent’s smirk only widened, readying her own blade.

Alfre launched herself forward, pushing her speed to the absolute limit. She clashed with Summer, katana meeting rapier, sparks and frost flying. She ducked, letting Summer’s katana fly over her head. She thrust upwards with her blade, Summer dodging it, but not completely. Summer scowled as a thin, red cut formed on her cheek.

“Are you proud of yourself?” Summer seethed. “Think this little cut means anything?”

“It means you’re not invincible,” Alfre stated, regaining just a bit of her confidence. “Means I can beat you, even if it takes forever. I’ll whittle you down, hit point by hit point.”

Summer smirked. “You think so, huh? How do you expect to ‘whittle me down’ when you’re dead?”

Alfre readied herself for the next attack, blade ready to parry.

But the clash never came. She blinked and Summer was gone. She blinked again, the reality of that sinking in, and she felt a burning, stabbing pain in her gut. Summer’s face was right beside hers, and her blade was through Alfre’s stomach.

Her friends were shouting, unintelligible over the sound of blood pounding in her ears. She reached down, her hand grasping desperately at the blade, as if she could pull it out.

“Goodbye, little winter,” Summer whispered, her breath against Alfre’s ear. “Don’t worry. Your friends will join you soon enough.”

Alfre screamed as the katana blade was pulled from her gut, her voice lost in the sound of her own shattering.