Spellheart 9: Chapter 49 (Patreon)

This was the worst-case scenario. The Satyr King had sent more agents, and the Cult of the Unblinking Eye had attacked simultaneously. I should have guessed they might take revenge together. After all, the two organizations were far closer than I should have been comfortable with.

What happened to that treaty the Satyr King and I had agreed to? I'd had his solemn word, from one ruler to another. Apparently that agreement wasn't worth the paper it was printed on. I hadn't expected it to last forever, but I also hadn't expected it to be broken so soon.

My only saving grace was the fact that they hadn’t expected us to practice emergency evacuation drills all month. Otherwise, we’d probably have lost most of the Hearthwood’s population in the opening attack.

But even with tens of thousands already in the bunkers, the attack turned much of my beautiful city into rubble.

The sky turned dark, blood-red as the Satyr Demigods among my assailants channeled some dark power. I couldn’t see what it was, but the flood of earth zeal alone was torrential, but there were other aspects mixed in with equal or greater concentration.

There was more than one Demigod casting that spell, of that much, I was certain. As they cast their spell, the earth trembled beneath my feet. I watched in horror as the beautiful city I’d worked so hard to build crumbled in an instant. The tall towers and elegant spires collapsed in a shower of stone and dust. Homes, businesses, and even the grand parks of the Hearthwood were reduced to rubble.

The attack was so powerful that it created a shockwave, flattening everything in its path. Even from where I was, high above the ground, I could feel the force of it. It was less an explosion and more a tsunami of earth and debris. It was as if a giant had stomped on the Hearthwood, obliterating everything but the castle.

I tried to stop it, but the forces arrayed against me were truly titanic. Destroying something was always easier than building something. The earth zeal I was trying so desperately to hold in place slipped away like sand between my fingers, blown to pieces before titanic forces.

But they weren’t done, and this time, I had a good eye on what they were doing.

Three humans were hovering in the air, along with a whole host of elves standing as still as statues behind them. I’d seen many elves who looked much the same as them during my brief stay among the Cult of the Unblinking Eye. Dressed as servants, I’d almost been able to ignore them then.

But now, with them arrayed for battle as they were, each one seemed like a sword aimed at my throat. Six elven sorcerers and more than a hundred wizards are all ready for battle. The Hearthwood was outmatched just by the forces the Cult of the Unblinking Eye had brought on their own.

Besides the three humans, there were seven Satyrs. They were all on the bigger and rougher side, scaled up beyond the size of the Satyr King or Prince Tivar. Each looked like they were cut from the same cloth as the Satyr Demigod I had defeated before.

Like him, they wouldn’t be able to throw around as many powerful elven wisps as Prince Tivar had, but they would have immense physical strength and the will to use it.

If I was only fighting the Satyrs, I might be able to keep my distance and trap them one by one in The Wanderer’s Pocket World passage. But there were so many of them, and they had the full support of the Cult of the Unblinking Eye.

I stared up at them. Dust filled the air, thrown up from the destruction of the city I’d put my heart and soul into building. All those years of work, all the elves who’d left the lives they knew behind to join me for my promise of something more here in the Hearthwood... so much of it had been destroyed just like that.

Would anyone even want to come to the Hearthwood anymore, knowing we had enemies like these? Who would want to live here knowing anything they built could be destroyed in the blink of an eye?

To think that everything me and my companions had built could be flattened just like that...

Despair and righteous fury swirled within me, but I bit both back.

It was clear that they’d brought forces far more than my match. Diplomacy was my best weapon to save what was left of the Hearthwood.

I still had much to offer. All I needed to do was offer the right incentives, and I could make both the Cult and the Satyrs go away peacefully.

I took a deep breath to steady myself. This was as much a battle as a real fight, and I needed to be on the top of my game. I couldn’t let my fury distract me from the real goal. Salvaging what was left of the Hearthwood.

So I squared my shoulders and forced a level tone.

“You know, there’s a thing called knocking!” I shouted up at the ten Demigod invaders. “To what do I owe the displeasure of such an abrupt visit?”

Several of the Satyrs snorted, and the invaders drifted down to me one by one. I held my hands at my sides, palms open. I was calm and unyielding, but not looking to turn this into a life and death battle. I'd been through enough of those and barely survived.

One of the Satyrs snorted a laugh. “Greeting your conquerors with such harsh words is rude where we come from.”

My lips drew tight. “You have conquered nothing yet.”

The Satyr who’d spoken raised his eyebrows and looked around at the destroyed city. “It certainly looks otherwise.”

“I have tricks you don’t want to test. After all, you’re not the first Satyr Demigod to cause trouble in the Hearthwood.” I stared him down with hard eyes. It would be best to establish a position of strength. I could negotiate from there.

“Ah yes, you killed Prince Tivar, disrespecting the entire race of the Satyrs in the process. And then you had the gall to slay the one sent to avenge him.” The Satyr shook his head, and the others all stared me down.

“Not to mention you allowed Ethan, our brother in arms, to perish in your lands.” The three humans from the Cult of the Unblinking Eye scowled at me. I didn’t recognize them, but they all seemed similar to Ethan in terms of power and appearance. “No doubt this was some scheme of yours. And to think some of us thought to extend a hand of friendship toward you...”

“It was always going to fail. I told you that from the beginning. There is a reason why we eliminate those who don’t join as soon as they awaken. If they aren’t compatible with us from the start, they never will be,” another cultist said.

I grimaced. We hadn’t even started yet, and negotiations were already getting out of hand. I had to seize control of the situation again. Meanwhile, my eyes darted to where I knew the Level Reducing Sentry Towers lay. They were concealed by rubble and debris, but they were still there.

If I wasn’t able to talk my way out of this, I’d need to take up defensive positions near those towers and hold the line as long as I could so my friends could arrive to reinforce me. I sensed the Teleportation Array flare behind me and knew the message was already on its way.

But until they arrived, I was alone against ten Demigods.

I’d faced long odds before, but never odds quite this long. For the first time in a long time, I wasn’t sure I was up for the challenge.

“I don’t suppose you’d all like to sit down to talk things out like civilized people? I promise the Hearthwood makes a good brew.” My eyes darted to the destroyed remains of what had once been the Hearthwood’s finest brewery. Hopefully, the elves who worked there made it to the bunkers. “Well... we used to make a good brew.”

My unwelcome guests laughed like I’d told a good joke. My lips remained straight and level, though I had to fight to keep my nails from digging into my palms.

Just buying time. Just buying time...

“We didn’t come here to sample your local provincial ale,” the Satyr who was speaking for his group said. “We’re here to claim our due.”

“Your due?” I scowled, suspecting I knew the answer.

“Hand over the Demigod you captured, as well as the Keystone Elf his majesty wants. Then we’ll take you to our world so you can apologize to him in person.” The Satyr leered lips in a toothy grin.

I glanced at the cultists. “And you?”

“We trust our allies, the Satyrs, to see to our needs by the time they’re done with you...” the Cultist chuckled darkly.

Given his earlier words about eliminating unaligned humans, I was pretty sure I had a slim chance of getting out of a meeting with the Satyr King alive.

Before a Demigod, a Sorcerer like me was at a steep disadvantage. Before an Immortal Ascendant like the Satyr King? I wouldn’t even have the chance to run.

I had no intentions of going anywhere with these Demigods. And certainly no intentions of handing Sava over to them.

“Well?” The Satyr Demigod raised an eyebrow and looked at me expectantly. “Shouldn’t a Sorcerer like you be on your knees begging for mercy?”

How had things come to this?

Despite my best efforts, it looked like things were headed for a fight after all.

My life had been going well. The Hearthwood was growing. I was dual cultivating with my matriarchs at a reasonable speed. I had time to spend with my friends, and I’d made peace with my former enemies.

My days of war were supposed to be behind me. I was a father and a family man now.

So why had things come to this?

I felt a single tear rolling down my cheeks as I remembered what my evil twin had said.

You will know true tragedy soon.

Perhaps he was right after all. And if he was evil, then maybe I’d have to be a little evil, too. Strangely, a distant, long-forgotten part of me seemed happy with the revelation.

The rapid beating of my heart grew steady. The anxious fear within me subsided. I couldn’t deal with something like this as the patient and caring man I was.

But once upon a time, I would have known what to say. And now those memories were coming back to me. Blood coursed through my veins, and my fists tightened.

Any words I might have thought of to appease my attackers fled from my mind. The time for words was over.

“What’s this? Crying? I knew you elf-lovers were soft, but not this soft!” The Satyr Demigod guffawed. The others joined him in, laughing at my expense.

I wiped my cheek. “That tear wasn’t for me. It was for whatever innocent Satyrs there might be and the world you call home. I will repay what you’ve done to me and mine a millionfold. I swear that here and now.”

<Note>

Sweated my rear off all yesterday, but I swapped out my tires by hand. Had to do it myself, since all the tire places were backed up by three weeks near me.

Maybe I was just super tired, but when I finally finished and got some writing done, I think I wrote the last scene of Spellheart 9. IDK. We'll see if I remember more I wanted to add over the next few days. If not, the last chapter will be chapter 63.