Chapter 357 - Bait (Patreon)

Ended up doing some big rewrites on this one after not being happy with it yesterday. Much more pleased with it now :) Thanks for the patience guys!

Hump slept easily that night, his exhaustion from battle winning out over his anxiety about the upcoming mission. In his sleep, he dreamed of the confiscated artifacts kept within the vaults of the Inquisition. Wizard Aldric had promised them their choice as a reward for their work.

Come morning, as they prepared for their journey north, fresh supplies were delivered for Hump and the Blackthorne company. For him, a brown, hooded cloak enchanted to diminish the light of magic, helped conceal the splendour of his battle robes, while a spindly wooden staff replaced his Staff of Damnation, which he would secure in one of the wagons. Dressed as he was, for the first time in a while Hump felt like a proper hedge wizard once more.

When he met the rest of the company outside, they were hardly recognisable. Bud stood before him as a broad and towering soldier, his shining plate replaced with a chestplate of hard-worn steel, and a mail shirt that draped over his body. Dylan and Emilia wore similar gear, the druid appearing more uncomfortable than Hump had ever seen him, while it seemed to fit Emilia naturally.

“I don’t know how you stand being in this all day,” Dylan said, fidgeting with his back as he tried to adjust his mail. “It’s so itchy.”

“And it stinks,” Emilia said.

Bud laughed. “You will get used to it.”

“Why couldn’t I have gone for the huntsman’s leathers like Celaine?” Dylan sighed.

“You don’t have a bow,” Celaine said.

“And you’re a member of my company,” Bud added. “You should look the part! It’s about stirring camaraderie.”

The other Blackthorne’s had been provided similar equipment to ensure that they appeared as ordinary supply guards. With everyone ready, they made their way through the encampment to where their assignment awaited.

“Good morning, Wizard Humphrey,” a man greeted Hump eagerly. He was middle-aged with brown hair streaked with grey, and looking every bit like your typical wagon driver. The merchant sword at his hip was standard for even non-combatants travelling through the dungeon. “My name is Bert Oakley, bronze ranked adventurer. My squad shall be driving the wagons.”

“Good to meet you, Bert,” Hump said, then nodded toward the wagons gathered in a clearing alongside the road. “Is this them?”

“That it is, sir. Thirty-eight wagons stocked full of all the empty crates, barrels, and stone-filled sacks that one might ever need. When you’re ready, I’ll introduce you to the men. They’re eager to meet you.”

“As am I to meet them,” Hump said. He glanced back at his party, raising his eyebrows in exaggeration—Bert seemed nice enough.

The adventurers were the sort of people Hump was used to. There were twenty of them—enough to bolster their numbers enough that the Blackthorne company would be able to share shifts for the wagons. All but Bert were iron ranked adventurers, most with many more years in the business than Hump. They were gruff, seasoned mercenaries that knew their work and wouldn’t need hand-holding. Despite that, they seemed to hold respect for him, familiar with his title and achievements. Their demeanour left Hump feeling confident.

Every member of the convoy was a part of the disguise. Wizard Aldric didn’t want to risk the lives of non-combatants on the task, so instead this squad of adventurers was assigned to the role of wagon drivers. Along with the Blackthorne company, that put their total number at just over fifty.

It was a while yet before they departed. Their wagons would be near the rear of the supply train, purposefully placed in one of the more vulnerable positions. For the first two days of the five anticipated to reach the demon citadel, they would follow the rest of the convoy. On the third, they would suffer an accident forcing them to stop and fall behind the rest of the convoy, theoretically giving the warlocks an easy target and luring them out of hiding.

It had to have been late morning when it was finally their turn to begin the journey, and Hump soon rediscovered just how unpleasant it was to ride upon a wagon. Whether the King’s Road to Elenvine or rolling along a dungeon road in a pocket world, the bump and shudder of a wagon was always awful. Hump took solace that one person was suffering even more than he was.

Dylan yawned where he sat across from Hump. Celaine drove the wagon, while the two of them would be off shift first, and from the looks of it, Dylan needed the rest. Dark bags lined his eyes, and he still couldn’t stop shifting his armour.

“You alright?” Hump asked.

The man nodded. “Hard to sleep in this place. The dungeon essence is even worse than being in a city, and the humidity…” He shook his head as if in disbelief. “Everything about this place is awful. I feel covered in sickness.” Nishari crawled over to Dylan, climbing up onto his lap with her front paws and pressing against him. He ran a hand along her back. “I suppose there are worse places to be stuck.”

Hump smiled, gazing out the back of the wagon as the Infernal Gates grew more and more distant. Wagons trailed along the straight road, kicking up dust. “For good or ill, all of this will be over soon enough. Five days to the citadel, and then however long it takes us to capture the dungeon core.”

“That could be weeks,” Dylan said. “Months even.”

“I don’t think so. Not with an army this size. The longer we’re here, the more chance there is for something to go wrong. No, General Korteg will want to end this quickly.”

“I hope you’re right, Hump,” Dylan said. “I really do.”

Hump looked at him and let out a long sigh. “You know what I say about the ‘H’ word!”

Dylan grinned, a twinkle to his eyes. “You can say what you want, doesn’t stop the rest of us.”

***

The roar of demons echoed from the forest to the west, wailing like damned souls. Nisha perked up where she lay against his feet on the floor, head tilting to listen. Hump set down his spellbook and shuffled along his seat and up to the driver’s perch where Celaine and Emilia were seated, both had their eyes on the forest.

“Are they coming?” Hump asked. Twice they had come under attack by monsters that lurked in the forests and plains of the Infernal Halls—demons with no sense of strength or self-preservation. They threw themselves at the supply convoy, thin, emaciated bodies so starved for food that they would die upon swords to get it.

“Hellhounds move in the trees,” Celaine said. “They’re following us, but it looks like they’re keeping their distance.”

“Hellhounds are smart for demons,” Emilia said. “They might have some sense.”

“Yeah, you just sit back and relax, Hump,” Celaine said. “Leave us to worry about the demons and read your book.”

Hump narrowed his eyes at the back of her head. “Are you making fun of me?”

“No, absolutely not. I would never do that.” Hump could hear the smile on her voice.

Hump smiled, trying not to reward her with a laugh as he returned to his seat. He’d been studying his spellbook as much as he could since their travel began. It seemed inevitable that they would encounter Karlac again eventually, and he needed to be prepared to face the demon’s Hellfire when that time came. For that, Hump needed to be stronger. Five days wasn’t long, but if he could even just learn the basics of Spell Sculpting it might make the difference. As of yet, it was proving just as difficult as he’d imagined.

He opened his book once more, reading over the entry again in case it sparked some insight in him that he was clearly missing.

THE BOOK OF INFINITE PAGES
The Secret Arts

With this, the second seal I have placed upon my book has been broken. Be warned, there are many that will seek its power—hide it well.

In my time exploring the world, I came upon many fascinating creatures and peoples. Many had found ways to harness magic by accident. To them, magic was not a science, but an art form explored through feeling and instinct. Yet where they failed to comprehend the laws that governed such powers, I have deciphered them, developing them into a system of advanced magic. Do not rush to understand these concepts, for while they can grant great power, they may also harm your soul.

Spell Sculpting

Description

Align a spell with your soul, stripping away the universal components that make it broadly compatible and infusing it with your own magical signature and the essence of your soul. This process grants the spell traits unique to you.

The technique worked by removing the universal components of a spell that made it broadly compatible with all wizards, and attuning it with one’s own soul. This process made the spell far more efficient to cast, enhancing its speed, power, and control. However, the process came with significant risk—if done incorrectly, Hump could damage his soul.

So Hump started basic—the spell he was most comfortable with, Transform Earth. The process was simple in theory. First, he needed to infuse the spell with the essence of his soul. Then, he had to merge the spell’s essence with his own, aligning their intents with a single, cohesive force.

In practice, however, Hump found the task daunting. To begin, Hump created a stone tablet out of the earth that he could work upon. Into it, he carved the two runes that made up Transform Earth and infused them with essence. As slowly as he could, he added the essence of his soul, trickling it into the stone in what should have been insignificant amounts, yet almost immediately the tablet crumbled to nothing.

Hump frowned. So that’s not quite working.

He didn’t know where to go from there. Transform Earth was such a simple spell, it felt like there wasn’t a huge amount he could change. Instead of jumping straight back into it, he spent some time using the spell as a shaping exercise, reforming the tablet and rotating it in the air, manipulating it into a ball, a spiral, a stick, experimenting with it. He sensed the simple intent within that bound every grain of earth and stone together. It was his own intent that weakened that bond, allowing the grains to shift and flow over each other. To add the essence of his soul, rich with his intent, to the delicate balance would simply overwhelm it. That must have been why it crumbled.

So what could he do? He read over the notes again. All explanation of the technique implied that he had to slowly mould the spell into a form that suited him—to ‘sculpt’ it. Not that the metaphor was all that helpful—he was a wizard, why would he know how to sculpt?

Perhaps trickling his essence into the runes was the problem. Perhaps he needed to chip away at it with his soul essence, removing the essence of earth in lots of quick jolts until finally the two powers merged.

This time, tiny fractures formed across the tablet on his first strike. On the second, they tablet fell to pieces.

Sighing, he prepared the tablet for a second attempt. This was going to take a while.

***

The third day arrived quickly. Each evening, the wagon train would stop along the road for the night, forming into a makeshift fort to guard against the demon attacks that would follow. As of yet, it had only been demonic beasts—creatures that posed little threat without the more powerful and intelligent demons to support them.

“I think I see the forest,” Bud said. “We’re almost there.”

Hump sat inside the wagon on a small bench, engrossed in his book. He glanced up and peered out through the gap in the canvas cover at the front of the wagon, where Bud sat on the driver's perch.

Hump sat inside the wagon on the small bench that he’d become far too familiar with. He glanced up and peered through the gap in the canvas cover at the front of the wagon, where Bud sat on the driver’s perch. It was getting on for noon. Outside, the red sky was reaching its brightest, streaks of essence forming a gradient of different shades. Soon, it would be time for the next step of their plan.

Hump set aside the Book of Infinite Pages, placing it back into the holder on his belt. He’d made little progress since the trip began, and that frustration was beginning to build. Perhaps some warlock action was just what he needed.

He stumbled through the wagon to the perch at the front where Bud was sitting and climbed on beside the knight. Up ahead, the next stretch of forest soon began again. It was there they would make there move. There was one wagon in front of Hump’s, controlled by Bert, while Dylan and Emilia walking at either side, disguised as guards.

“You confident?” Hump asked.

Bud laughed. “When aren’t I?”

Hump grinned. “That’s what I like to hear.”

Soon, the trees closed in on either side of the road. If their information was accurate, this narrow strip would carry on for miles. It was the ideal land for an ambush, and the perfect lure for an enemy looking to sabotage the army.

“This is the place,” Hump said, gazing at the trees on either side of the road.

He stood on the perch, turning back to peer down the line at the rest of his wagons. There had to be a hundred wagons trailing behind his own convoy. If this was to work, they would need to go on ahead.

“Dylan,” Hump called.

The druid turned. “Is it time?”

Hump nodded. Quickly, Bert’s wagon veered to the side of the road where it came to a stop, out of the way so that the other convoys could continue past them. Bud directed their own wagon to follow, while the rest of the Blackthorne company and Bert’s adventurers fell in line behind.

Nobody needed to be told what to do. They were all fully aware of their tasks. Dylan headed over to a number of wagon wheels, morphing and bending the wood. He did the same thing on a few of the wagons, along with their frames, damaging them in a way that made it look like they had crashed, leaving them inoperable.

Now, it was a simple waiting game. They watched the trees, the Blackthorne company ready while a few of the adventurers pretended to attempt to repair the wagons. Only after a couple of hours did Dylan repair the damage. Now, away from the rest of the convoy, they continued on their journey. Hump had expected it to take some time before the warlocks found them. He’d wait in silent anticipation, time passing agonisingly slowly as his nervousness built.

Yet today, there was hardly time for that at all. Not ten minutes after they set off again did Celaine approach the wagon.

“There are shadows in the trees to the left,” Celaine said. “Figures atop horses.”

“Do we keep going?” Bud asked, reigns of the lead wagon in hand.

“Keep going,” Hump said. “As far as they’re concerned, we’re none the wiser.”

“Shall I alert the men?” Celaine asked.

Hump shook his head. “Not yet. Not until the warlocks have committed their force.”

He stared dead ahead, forcing himself not to look for the warlocks in the trees. Minutes passed by, until finally the first horses emerged from the forest, galloping toward the convoy of wagons, spears, swords, and starves in hands. Demons followed, sweeping out of the woods.

“To arms!” Hump shouted. “Demons! Demons have come!”