Chapter 30: Blackrose Red Light District, Night (3) (Patreon)

Magnus grinned as he easily twirled the Spear of the Wayward Maiden in his hand. He made it look like spinning a baton, although compared to the halberd he usually carried, it probably was.

He jumped off the corpse of the Demon of Greed. Smoke was now beginning to emit from its twisted, hideous body. Its eyes, all three pairs of them, were now dark, unseeing orbs in their sockets.

Yet even in its fallen state, it was still the picture of evil and brutality. Looking at it closely, I could see that it didn't need to use its many jagged rows of teeth to impale us, nor even its claws, its tail or its wings. Such was the horror that were its scales on its main body, it didn't take a lot to imagine what would have happened had it simply decided to roll over us.

Instead, it was flat on its stomach, its entire body broken onto the pavement as a single precision strike by the holy artifact had felled it.

I wondered how many heroes before this day had tried to slay it, wielding weapons of common steel. Just as I was sure that these scales would have pierced any it had struck, I knew that no weapon forged by any blacksmith could deliver a blow to render its natural armour.

The Spear of the Wayward Maiden had done more than that. It had pierced its foe without any resistance. There was no heroic struggle or primal scream of rage. And unlike with the Demon of Lust, there was no spitting death throes. There was no last slap at the Goddess's favoured champions.

Magnus had simply stabbed the creature in the back as he would a common goblin. And it had fallen just as unbefittingly.

Whatever defences it had were pierced so utterly by the holy attributes bestowed upon a weapon of the ages, that even a high officer of the Demon King's army was granted an end no different to that of a common foot soldier.

For a moment, all I could do was stare in shock at the efficacy of the weapon.

The beautiful girl beside me, however, had her eyes on more than the holy spear.

Her blue eyes took in the wielder as though she were looking at someone she'd never seen before. This time, there was no playful animosity there.

Only growing incredulity.

“Magnus …” she said, almost uncertainly. “Did you just kill a Demon of Greed? By yourself?”

Magnus smirked at the smouldering carcass behind him, then gave his spear another twirl.

“Heh. That was a Demon of Greed? Feels a lot easier than the other one. Guess we're moving up in the world, huh?”

“But that was ...”

Magnus grinned, then cupped his hand around his ear.

“What's that? I can't hear you. Still got bits of dead Demon smoke up my ears. Gonna have to speak louder if you want me to sound modest.”

It was a bridge too far for Iris.

Still beautiful and dignified in her dress, despite the dust and debris caking her form, she folded her arms and broke into a familiar scowl.

“That was reckless,” she finished. “Trying to catch a high level demon by surprise? You were lucky that none of its three heads had an eye watching for a strike from behind.”

Magnus shrugged.

“No luck and no try. Saw it with its back exposed, caught with no chance of turning or resetting its footing. Doesn't matter if it's a dragon, a gryphon or a ...”

“A minotaur, Magnus.”

“Fuck off. It's got hooves. How do I know if it's a minotaur or a horse?”

“Because it's a Demon of Greed, a twisted creature extensively chronicled for its desire to amalgamate powerful monsters. Are horses monsters?”

“Too right they are. You think demons are tough? Horses can chew through a shield if they put their minds to it. And any they don't feeling like eating, they can smash through with their legs.”

Iris rolled her eyes.

“Then, I suppose we should seek to replace you with any common breed of horse that we come across. They already sound far more adaptable. And polite.”

Magnus responded by laying the shaft of his newly found spear against his shoulder. Immediately, there was something about the image of that weapon against him that looked correct, almost as if whoever crafted it was nodding their head in agreement.

“Heh. Do that and you'll miss out on my spearmanship. And the old man always tried telling me I couldn't just swap between a spear and a halberd. Tell me I don't look good.”

Iris's blue eyes took him in thoughtfully.

“You look … very impressive.”

Magnus looked ready to give a foul-mouthed retort.

Instead, he seemed taken aback by the genuineness of Iris's statement. There was no hint of any dishonesty in her words or her demeanour.

For a moment, I almost wanted to protest that it wasn't spearmanship, but the spear itself that had been the one to rend through the monster's demonic defences.

And yet the words utterly failed to materialise.

The Demon of Greed had collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut. But even with the power of divinity radiating from the spear, such a feat would only have been accomplished had he struck the spear cleanly through the heart of the beast. It was a monumental feat of skill.

It wasn't his spear which allowed him to strike true. That was just him. To point out that his attack only worked due to the spear's attributes seemed needless and frivolous. Almost petty.

I held in my remarks.

And yet seeing the way Iris was viewing Magnus with an expression truly teetering on admiration, I was filled with a sense of loss I had never before experienced.

As a party, we had traversed the path of danger many times. Only once, however, had we bested a Demon before, and that was a task which pushed us all to our limits. Combined, we had barely survived. And I had my part to play.

This time, though …

I was little more than a bystander.

I didn't even have a weapon. My contribution was to wield a door as a shield, and then to ineffectually attempt escape.

I had failed to protect Iris.

The one I cherished the most.

Had Magnus not been there …

I shook the dark premonition of a future averted from my mind. I did not need to imagine such images. Not when it had been averted.

Averted due to the timely arrival of Magnus, and his precise strike with the holy artifact in his hands.

As I caught Iris admiring Magnus in a way she'd never displayed before, for the first time, I suddenly felt a crushing sense of inferiority to the other man in every way.

He was always taller, more handsome, more powerfully built. The epitome of a man. A dashing, rugged hero. The type that all women would swoon over. The type that, despite all his other flaws, had only drawn undeniable interest from Iris.

He was the picture of a lady's man.

I had always accepted that.

But until now, I'd always been the one to conjure an escape from impossible situations. I was the leader. The scrapper. Although I had no magic, I was the magician of crafting us a victory in an uphill battle. I was the one to rely on in battle, if not for my sword, than for my head.

And yet now, looking at Magnus wielding the Spear of the Wayward Maiden in his hands, I could not help but realise that compared to me, he was now superior to me in more ways than just charming women. He was now better than me at ensuring Iris's safety.

He was now the one that Iris could rely on.

A new form of envy, of loss, and of regret crushed me like a weight as I saw Iris carefully taking in the sight of the man before her. The way she looked at him filled me with uncertainty.

And yet despite it all, I couldn't help but watch.

To keep my words to myself. To witness as my beloved girlfriend took in the proud figure of the heir of the Ten Dragons Clan with a new sense of interest, all the while I never said a word to rebuke him for his lateness to the scene, his lack of battle tactics, his absconding from the ballroom.

I watched as Iris slowly unfolded her arms and sighed. And for a reason only the Goddess knew, the sight of her dazzling eyes lighting with something strange as she looked at Magnus was more mesmerising to me than had she turned her attention on me instead.

A feeling of deep envy struck my heart.

And yet that same heart was beating with a new sense of trepidation.

I saw Iris … and what I felt more than even the jealousy, was …

“So … care to explain how you acquired a weapon which is quite clearly beyond your financial means? If I'm not mistaken, you claimed that it was a holy spear?”

Iris's cautious, but inquisitive question brought me back to my senses.

She didn't know. There'd been no opportunity to tell her about the spear.

But whereas I knew what it was, I had no idea how Magnus knew also.

Especially since I was now the legal owner, so far as paperwork is concerned. The reality was naturally starkly different. The gold belonged to Baron Renfont's. But that was something for me to handle in the future.

And yet by the way Magnus seemed comfortable with wielding the spear, it was now something for him to handle instead.

“Heh, thing pretty much flew right into my hand,” he said, chuckling as he gave it another twirl. “After all that hell started, I saw a little guy trying to run past me with this spear in his arms. I didn't even have to do anything. Guy just tripped as if fate stuck its leg out, and into my arms this baby went. Nice to know our Goddess isn't a total bitch, huh?”

“Magnus!” said Iris, looking appalled. “You can't call our Goddess a … a ...”

“Well, sure, I can call her other things too. How about I start with wh--”

“Start with nothing!”

The man chuckled, planting his spear into the ground.

All of a sudden, I was left to feel the weight of my inferiority once again, yet now on an even grander scale. When in need, the Goddess gifted Magnus a holy spear.

She gave me a door.

“... It's the Spear of the Wayward Maiden,” I explained, as I wondered how two heroes could be so different. “It used to belong to a famed heroine. It was on sale at the auction.”

Iris let out a breath of surprise. She didn't turn towards me, but kept her eyes on the spear, and the man holding it.

“It was on auction? But this is assuredly a holy artifact.”

“Yeah, it is. Even has a certificate and everything. I bought it.”

Finally, Iris turned towards me. Her wide eyes blinked incredulously.

“You did what?”

I let out a wry smile.

“We're going to have to explain this to the baron next time I see him. I'm sure it'll be fine, though. It's doubtless worth more than whatever it is he wanted to actually buy.”

Magnus let out a rousing laugh.

“Yeah, dunno about that. I hear magical dildos go for a pretty coin these days.”

“We don't know if the last item was a magical dildo, Magnus.”

“Betting 20 silver pieces it is.”

I raised an eyebrow. He didn't have 20 silver pieces.

“Done.”

As Magnus and I proceeded to exchange a handshake enforced by the sweat and dust solely caking my palms, Iris looked between the spear and the very light coinbag by my belt with an expression of growing pain.

Eventually, she wisely chose to close her eyes, then shove the matter to one side.

Matters of money was something she could handle when she wasn't as equally grimy as my palm, although she still looked remarkably better than I did.

“The Spear of the Wayward Maiden,” she said. “I've heard of it. It's one of the lost treasures of the kingdom. It was owned by one of the original founders. One of the twelve heroes. ”

“Not a bad buy, huh?” I replied, despite knowing it most certainly didn't belong to me.

Iris nodded seriously.

“Look at the way it radiates light. The way it tore through a Demon of Greed. For it to do that, the weapon must be consecrated, blessed, sanctified ...”

“Spat on by a nun,” said Magnus.

“... But why was it on auction?” said Iris, pretending to hear nothing. “That is preposterous. This should be in the Royal Treasury.”

“No … it should be in the hands of a hero,” I replied, before slowly nodding towards Magnus. “And it is.”

Because as much as it pained my pride to admit it, there was nobody else I could trust to utilise that weapon as efficiently as he did.

Perhaps there were better spearman. Better heroes. But when it came to the brutality of warfare and the simple task of shoving his shaft through whatever he wanted, nobody excelled better than Magnus, in every conceivable way.

For his part, the man simply grinned, basking in the attention.

I didn't blame him, especially as most of that attention was being earned from the beautiful girl in our midst. Every moment she looked at him, it was as though he was being elevated in her eyes.

It was a sight which tore at my heart ... and yet I couldn't claim it didn't also captivate me.

“You there! Civilians! Vacate this area at once! The Demon King's forces have been sighted!”

Suddenly, a commanding voice snapped me completely back to reality.

A sharp voice that came attached with equally sharp whistles.

I turned around, as did my companions. The smoking carcass of the Demon of Greed still burned behind us among the ruin of the Red Light District. Shattered glass, broken wood and displaced bricks littered the ground. Magnus's holy spear cast a golden glow onto the scene.

And the ones to first see it were men brandishing broadswords and towering shields.

The Blackrose Watch had arrived.

“Well, look who showed up just in time to act like cunts,” scoffed Magnus. “I should've been a guard. I'd be a fucking general by now.”

Not entirely disagreeing with his assessment, I joined him as he cast a dark eye on the approaching figures.

Although I didn't blame the local watch for their delay in becoming demon food, I felt that both Magnus and myself might have been too generous in assuming they had arrived at all.

As the silhouettes became clearer, it became increasingly obvious that they hadn't.

These were not the uniforms of the city militia, distinguishable by its adherence to the loud colours worn by the citizens of the city.

These were functional uniforms, made up almost entirely of bands of steel mail. These were not the uniforms of a city watch meant to deter petty criminals. They were half-suits of armour meant to ward against blades. And the faces of the men wearing them told as much.

Grim and battleworn, seasoned to the last.

These weren't watchmen.

They were soldiers.

The Royal Army were in the city of Blackrose.

~~~

Half an entire company of professional soldiers dug through the collapsed old house, searching for a means to descend into the underground estate beyond simply dropping through the chasm opened up by the Demon of Greed.

It was a surreal sight, not least because the presence of the kingdom's soldiers was almost as unexpected as the presence of the Demon King's forces.

As part of the kingdom, there was no stipulation stating that the Royal Army could not be present in this city. But there were long-standing notions in place. Notions enforced by the city's ability to economically cripple the Royal Treasury if its particular brand of independence was not expected.

They were not supposed to be here. And the captain of these soldiers knew it.

“What a shit show.”

The man spat out his words. Quite literally so. A glob of phlegm landed onto the smoking carcass of the Demon of Greed. It sizzled immediately.

He was a grizzled veteran. And yet as he listened to the recount of what had occurred, he looked every bit like a fresh faced trainee on his first day in the courtyard, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

His eyes looked at the corpse, the spear in Magnus's hands, and then at Iris's cleavage still generously revealed in her dress. And then he sighed after taking in everything that was important.

As a man, I really couldn't fault him for this.

“We were tasked with retrieving a suspected holy artifact being illegally auctioned,” said the captain. “Our mission was to confirm its presence, then recover the item with as little mess as possible. What a report this is going to be.”

He spat at the corpse again.

I grimaced. That the kingdom's soldiers were already in place spoke greatly about the planning and urgency that went into retrieving the Spear of the Wayward Maiden.

That did not bode well for us, who as far as I was concerned, were its current keepers.

“Well, it is what it is,” he added. “As bad as it is, it could have been worse. Should have been worse. Goddess granted us her mercy when she sent you guys here. I can't say I would have sent any of my men in to take on this thing, city be damned.”

The captain gazed at the wreckage, currently being navigated by over twenty soldiers. Few, if any, appeared keen to wade deep into the quagmire of broken housing. None went near the Demon's corpse.

The captain turned his attention solely on the spear resting against Magnus's shoulder.

“Still, I suppose this counts as mission successful, at least,” he said, forcing a small smile at the sight of the gleaming weapon.

My fists unexpectedly tightened.

While I had not expected the miraculous boon of my party being the recipients of a holy spear, I equally did not expect to lose it barely moments after it was put to stunning use.

This wasn't right. This was a weapon destined for the hands of a hero, and by all accounts, it had chosen Magnus. There was no logic in allowing the weapon to be seized, especially as the Demon King's army were clearly reaching out with their claws.

And yet the law was clear. Unaccounted holy relics must be returned to royal custody.

Ordinarily, it wouldn't have been a poor idea. Wayward artifacts rarely found themselves in the ownership of charitable users. It could even be said that falling in the hands of a collector keen to use it as a mere ornament was one of the better scenarios for it.

And yet … the law was still the law.

Loathe as I was to relinquish possession of the Spear of the Wayward Maiden,  the weapon fell under the jurisdiction of the kingdom. We may be heroes. But we were also citizens.

The problem is that I doubted if Magnus was going to pay much creed to ownership details.

I looked at the man, who in turn was making it exceptionally clear with his tapping against the shaft that it was not leaving his presence. That he was not cursing vehemently made it all the more clear. Foul mouthed as he was, even he knew there were some messages that could only be delivered by deadly silence.

I suddenly felt a sense of urgency.

Not only for the spear. But for the officer in front of me.

“Captain,” I began, before Magnus finally decided to no longer keep his thoughts to himself. “Regarding the spear … I hope you understand that as ordained heroes, it would be best for this kingdom, for your--”

The captain immediately held up his palm.

So surprised was I at this gesture that I was actually shocked into silence. There was no rule that said people couldn't interrupt me, of course. But even so, soldiers generally deferred enough to heroes that they at least allowed them to finish speaking.

It seemed my attempt at stealing a concession was so blunt that it wasn't needed.

“This is above my pay grade, hero. And my current concerns.”

For a moment, more surprise filtered through me at the captain's brusqueness. But I knew at once that he wasn't attempting to be rude.

Blackrose had just been assaulted by the Demon King's army. An attack this far south warranted his full attention. The matter of the spear was a side show.

I held out hope.

“Then, you'll agree to us continuing to have possession over the spear, until more pressing matters are accounted for?”

The captain shook his head.

“I cannot do that. I have my orders. I thank you for your service this day, but I cannot allow you to simply leave with the weapon. Nevertheless, I understand that as ordained heroes, you may have some claim of ownership. That is not for me to decide.”

And just like that, all hope of an easy solution had faded.

I understood his position. But at the same time, I wanted to groan.

Who would I need to speak to in order to secure this weapon? Some bent-over clerk in a dusty library of unused treasures?

“Take them to the king.”

My jaw fell open.

Nor was mine the only one.

Suddenly, Magnus stopped tapping menacingly at his spear. Iris, ever calm and regal in the presence of others, tilted her head in puzzlement.

“Excuse me?” she said, interjecting with a querying look. “The king? Did I hear that correctly? Are you implying the king is here? In Blackrose?”

The captain turned to her, then nodded his head. Admirably, he kept his eyes on her face. Just about.

“No, my lady. He is in the Royal Capital Castle. You may meet him there. Such matters concerning the kingdom's treasures are beyond me, and perhaps anyone other than His Majesty.”

Iris blinked in confusion. Clearly, the prospect of a sudden meeting with the king of this realm was as startling to her as it was any other sane person.

“Then, you intend to take us to the Royal Capital? … Tonight?”

The captain gave a short pause. After a moment of deliberation with his thoughts, he waved a robed figure standing at a distance over.

“No, not tonight. Now. Such matters cannot be withheld. I will also deliver my report in person.”

The robed figure stepped clearly into the moonlight.

If it wasn't obvious from his attire, it soon became clear from the glowing rod in his hand what his profession was.

And if that still wasn't enough, there was the flecks of light gathering in his hands.

With a nod towards the captain, the mage began weaving a pattern of magic unknown to me. And yet I suspected I knew what this particular spell would involve.

I gulped, then immediately began dusting off the bits of door still stuck to my adventuring clothes.

Apparently, it was time to meet the king.