Amazon Apocalypse 2: Chapter 18 (Patreon)

Soon, our goal was in sight. The western tower up ahead was well-manned and well-guarded. So far, we’d managed to avoid any major fights, but I suspected that wouldn’t be true for the final leg of this quest. I voiced my concerns to my companions.

“Don’t worry. Big sis has this,” Myrina said. “Besides, clever as you’ve been, the dungeon rewards conflict. If we want to leave here with that bag of holding of yours, we will need to bust some heads.”

I frowned. “Still, let’s try to find those scouts before we pick a fight. If we have to fight our way out of here, then so be it, but I’d rather not. I don’t like picking a fight right beneath the guard barracks. Those look like narrow corridors, and that’s a bad place to be outnumbered.”

I could easily see us getting swarmed with guards and militia. While Cyra was higher level than needed for this dungeon, quantity had a quality all on its own, and hundreds of guards attacking her at once would give her trouble. It would take someone of her mother’s speed to walk through the city while its defenders were helpless to retaliate.

“Let me talk to the guards and see if I can get any information first,” I suggested.

So far, I’d had the most luck on this adventure by just talking to the dungeon denizens. Myrina and Cyra had been more inclined toward smashing and slaughtering their way to victory.

“Excuse me!” I waved to a guard, this one a woman of gruff bearing. Upon approaching her, I saw a deep green hue to her skin and teeth sharper than any human’s. An orc, most likely. Like the portal user who’d brought me to this world on Myrina’s behalf.

The guard glanced me up and down, reaching for her weapon as she did so. I smiled and waved, doing my best to look friendly. Eventually, she let her itchy weapon hand relax.

“This is a restricted area, citizen! You aren’t allowed here unless you’re in the guard or you’re a militiaman in uniform. You appear to be neither, so I’ll ask you to be on your way.” The guard waved her hand, gesturing me back to the rest of the city.

I didn’t budge. It would be tough to talk my way into the prisons, but I spun up a lie just in case. “I just wanted to go in and look at the prisoners! My sister’s gone missing, you see. Recently, she fell in with the wrong crowd, and Mother thinks she might have gotten locked away. There was a rumor that one of her new friends was a spy for the army outside. Please, let me just walk through and ask a few questions.

“The city’s prisoners are not taking guests,” the guard said. “Besides, there are a lot of Amazonian women in there, lad. You don’t want to go in there. We’ve got a bunch of locked-up Amazonian warriors. A lad like you might cause a hysteria outbreak!”

This wasn’t the first time I’d heard that phrase. Neither Myrina nor Cyra had gone into great detail about what it was, and I realized as something that afflicted all Amazonains. Something that they were quite embarrassed about on the whole.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked.

The orc guard rolled her eyes. “I mean that if you walk in there, they’re going to go crazy on you! They might tear the cell bars right off. The Amazonians are the horniest sluts in Arcadia once you get them going. But they’ve built all sorts of rules and norms about who they can love and who they can’t. It’s all sorts of backward if you ask me. But the point of the matter is that things won’t go smoothly for you if you enter the prison.”

“Is there any way I could get a chance to talk to any of them?” I asked. Maybe not in the prison?

The orc shrugged. “We’ve got a big lot due for the gallows in an hour. Maybe you can join the crowd throwing rocks at them and try to get your question in. Odds are they won’t answer, though. Little point when they’ll be hung not long after.”

“Will the suspected spies be in that group?” I asked hopefully.

“Convicted spies now. The jury found the lot of them guilty not half an hour ago,” the guard replied. “Best catch them before they’re hung! You won’t get the chance to ask them questions after.”

I bowed and thanked the guard. It looked like a perfect opportunity to grab the spies right before their execution. We’d just have to time it right.

***

Myrina and Cyra once again congratulated me on my successful reconnaissance.

“Not needing to break into the prison will make things much easier,” Cyra commented. “Still, we should figure out exactly where we’re going to hit them and how we’ll make it out of here.”

I wholeheartedly approved of that, so we scouted the route from the prison to the gallows. It would be a large main road, but asking around a bit soon revealed that the guards took a step back while they were on the main road to allow the civilians times to throw stones at the convicted without getting hit themselves.

That would be the perfect time to ambush the guards. We’d be in full view of the entire crowd then, so we’d have to work to disperse them with a few flashy abilities. That would be my job while Myrina and Cyra took care of the guards.

After that, we’d scale the walls and jump down from the inside. It would be quite a fall, but Cyra and Myrina seemed to think the shields wouldn’t block anything trying to get out, just projectiles from the outside trying to get in.

I trusted their judgment, and we waited the remaining minutes in hiding until the moment to sprint into action came.

“Make way for the guard! Prisoners coming through! Clear the streets!” a guard shouted. I recognized it as the same orc woman I spoke with before. She waved her hands, and the many carts and pedestrians spread out to the sides of the road as a contingent of guards and shackled prisoners streamed through.

The prisoners looked like a rather miserable lot. Bloody, barefoot, and wearing little more than rags, they were led through the streets on chains bound to their manacled hands and feet. Those would be trouble. Hopefully, Cyra could snap them as easily as she’d broken the storefront lock, otherwise they would slow us down.

“Stoning time! Move aside!” someone in the crowd shouted. Soon others repeated the call, all eagerly hefting broken chunks of cobblestones. This was the closest thing to excitement I’d seen from the besieged city’s residents. Before now, they’d worn nothing more than the bleak, depressing stares of a people who knew the end was near.

Maybe they saw this as their last chance for a little payback against the army that would eventually burst through their walls. Only a few of the prisoners were clearly Amazonian. They were of far larger stature and musculature than would have been natural for any human. The others were mostly smaller, likely having compressed their size down to human proportions so they could pass as regular people while spying on the city from the inside.

“Alright, alright!” the orc woman held up her hands to hold back the barrage of rocks coming through at any second. “Save those throwing arms until my guards are out of the way!”

The guards made their hasty escape, getting clear of the row of hobbled prisoners while the city’s residents vented their frustrations. Those who weren’t already bleeding from whatever wounds they’d taken while being abducted or while in prison would be bloody soon.

Amazonians were tough though, and after taking the liberty of using Examine on them to discern their levels, I only saw a few who were weak enough to end up with a broken bone or two. We wanted to escape with as many of the scouts as possible. While the mission would be a technical success if we even brought one of them back to camp alive, Myrina and Cyra insisted our rewards would be greatest the more of them we brought along with us.

I nodded to Cyra and Myrina as soon as the guards gathered to watch the stoning. A few of them were digging at loose cobblestones in the street to join in, but most stood there with bored faces. This was just another day at the office for them.

The moment Myrina and Cyra leaped into action, I did the same. While their job would be to deal with the guards, mine would be to clear the people out of the way.

“Hey! Put the stones down!” I shouted. Nobody could hear me over their own furious shouting as they pelted the prisoners with rocks.

I ran out in front to get their attention. “Put them down!” I yelled, cupping my hands.

“Shut your trap. These fuckers are trying to invade the city and deserve no mercy!” a man in the crowd shouted. He twisted, and the rock that was previously aimed at the head of a bruised and unconscious Amazonian warrior was instead aimed at me.

I ducked to dodge it. Behind me, I heard a scream and the crunch of breaking bones. This was no time to pull my punches.

“Alright, that’s it!” I grimaced as I channeled Mana Bolt. I aimed right at the head of the man who’d just thrown a rock at me.

My spell struck him, and his head exploded in a fountain of gore. I hadn’t expected a single spell to be so effective, but Myrina had been right when she said the average peasant wasn’t particularly high leveled. My high proficiencies were able to boost even the humble Mana Bolt to the point of being a one-hit-kill against them.

Others screamed. A rain of rocks came toward me, and a few hit. I fired off Mana Bolts indiscriminately into the crowd, blasting through torsos and heads one after another. That got them running.

“This is definitely a war crime...” I grimaced as dozens of former civilians lay dead or dying at my feet. I was once again happy this was a dungeon, though I would have been happier if these had been monsters instead of people.

I grabbed the chain wrapped around the throat of the lead prisoner. She was on one knee, and blood dripped from her brow. Given her level, it probably wasn’t the stones that left that wound but whatever the guards had done to her while she was being interrogated.

“Come on, this is your rescue! Let’s move!” I urged.

Some of them climbed to their feet, aware that they needed to act. Others were slower. Days of torment awaiting execution probably hadn’t been kind to their psyches.

“On your feet!” I ordered, louder and more demanding this time. That got the attention of those who were otherwise too dazed to think for themselves. Being prisoners, they were used to obeying angrily shouted orders.

I was only barely able to get them moving when Cyra appeared, blood soaking her clothes from head to toe.

“We don’t have much time before the militia arrives. We want to get out of here quickly,” Cyra said.

I nodded. “Can you break these bindings? Escape will be easier if they can run.”

Cyra shook her head. “They just need to get back to camp alive. The quest said nothing about intact.”

She grabbed the chain of the lead Amazonian and pulled, hauling the woman to her feet.

Cyra shot me one last glance. “I’ll see you at the gates!”

Then she took off running, reminding me much of a tank at full throttle. She wasn’t a speedy blur like Kyrina was. More like something you could look at and instantly realize you’d be a fool to step in front of it, like a train at full speed.

That was exactly what happened to the last of the guards. They tried to get in Cyra’s way and were trampled underfoot. Behind her, a chain of prisoners trailed along. Some were on their feet, struggling to keep up. Others were being dragged along, flesh scraped raw on the cobblestones beneath them.

Myrina shot ahead, clearing the way for her big sister as they traveled. I used Warp Step to catch up as quickly as I could. I ran at full speed for the section of the walls we’d signaled out for our escape. There was a staircase leading up its side, and once over the wall, Myrina and Cyra both seemed sure we’d survive the jump down.

But that was when we reached our first hurdle. There was already a huge contingent of guards lining the walls.

“Trouble ahead!” I shouted to my companions. “I’ll take a look. We might need to find another route.”

“Make it quick, please!” Cyra skidded to a stop, bringing the chain of bruised and bloody prisoners to a stop behind her. She tugged the length of chain in one hand and held her bloody sword in the other. Guards spilled out along the street, coming in twos and threes. She and Myrina stood back to back as they prepared to fight.

I vanished up the stairs, poking my head up just enough to see what was happening.

Damn it!

It was another squad of dungeon divers, causing so much trouble. This was the team that had taken the quest to open the gates from the inside.

Only they hadn’t been at all discrete about it. They were fighting over the winches and even got one of them raised. The gate would open if only they could make their way to the other one as well.

Unfortunately, the obvious way they’d gone about their infiltration attracted most of the city’s militia to their position. Now, five of them were completely surrounded on all sides by more than a hundred guards. There was no way they’d ever make it to the other winch, and from the look of them, they were battered, drained, and down a member.

My eyes lit on the other winch. There was only a single person guarding it. Everyone else had abandoned their post to help the others.

I’d have to make this quick.

I activated Arcane Blade. I’d tested the spell a few times, but this would be my first time depending on it entirely for a kill. A faint outline of blue light covered my sword, and it felt stronger in my grasp.

With the spell active, I fired Mania up all the way to Blood Frenzy. The hazy blue outline grew brighter and more physical. Dark shadows crept along the length of the magic, and I suspected the weapon in my hands would have real heft to it, even if I’d cast the spell on a twig. By using it in conjunction with a real sword, it was even more powerful.

Weapon ready, I used Warp Step to position myself behind the guard, then lined up my shot. I darted in before the guard could turn, bending my newly improved proficiencies to the task. In one swift motion, I jammed my sword through the tiny gap between the guard’s helmet and breastplate.

The amount of damage Arcane Blade did under those conditions was immense. Far more than I could have managed with any of my other spells, besides perhaps my ultimate.

You have dealt a Critical Blow!

You have killed a guard.

You have gained a level!

It turned out my Death Curse didn't consider these dungeon denizens to be monsters, and they gave me experience points just fine. Perhaps there was one good thing about this not being a monster hunt.

Dealing with the guard had been surprisingly easy, but I feared my next task would be anything but.

“You!” I yelled to the other party of adventurers. “Start pulling the gates up!”

The other adventurers saw me and yelped with joy. Two of them spun the wheel connected to the winch.

We got the gate halfway up before more guards were on top of me, but I had a trick up my sleeves. I’d been in a party with Myrina and Cyra the whole time, and all this fighting had been charging my ultimate.

You have activated your Ultimate, Secrets of the Unseen.

A color I’d only ever seen when casting this spell blossomed in my hand. I’d forgotten what it looked like. Perhaps if I pushed myself to a higher level of Mania, I’d be able to remember it when this was over.

I pushed that thought down. That was my class talking, and I didn’t need the distractions it was so fond of.

Time slowed to a crawl, and my enormous Mana Bolt barreled right through the militia, coming for me and into the mass of a hundred surrounding the other group of adventurers across from me on the other side of the wall.

My spell tore them to shreds by the dozens. I hadn’t realized how useful my ultimate was as an area-of-effect spell, at least when so many low-level targets were grouped up on one another. The sudden rush of energy from my Lifesteal ability left me feeling like I was in tip-top shape.

I quickly cranked the gate the rest of the way up before any more guards could interfere.

A horn sounded in the distance as soon as the gates were opened. I heard an order from afar. “The gates are open! Charge!”

The attacking army set down their siege weapons and sprinted toward the gate. Within moments, the first of them arrived.

“The city is lost! Flee for your lives!” a militiaman said.

“I claim this city in the name of the Samhain Clan!” a proud Amazonian voice shouted as more and more warriors piled through the open gates.

Without their walls to defend them, the defenders were completely outmatched. These were crafters holding weapons, not warriors like those attacking them.

I spotted a contingent of militia raising their hands and surrendering their weapons. The Amazonians tore their armor off, took their weapons, and then started hauling the militia back to camp as their prisoners. Considering how this world treated prisoners, I doubted they’d enjoy their stay.