Curselock

Chapter 211: War

Across the city of Ivory Reach, in strategic locations, bells tolled. They boomed with the force of emergency magic, the signal to all to huddle down and prepare to be attacked. What little population that wasn’t heeding the extra guard patrols and cult rumors rushed to their homes, locking their doors and hugging their families. Those who had heeded the warning could only pray.

With six major guard barracks sporadically located around the city, an army of marching soldiers took to the streets. They moved in rows and prepared weapons and spells. Their attackers were known, which closed some options while opening plenty more.

They braved the fog that had suddenly taken the whole of the city, rushing headlong into the thick mist without fear or worry. Three barracks moved toward a, seemingly, random courtyard to move on the Sightless King and his army, the other three barracks joined with the royal guard at the castle.

Despite the fog, a brilliant green haze eclipsed the sky. Trails of ruin ran through the ribs of the dead lost Lord that protected their city, corruption and undeath permeating the open air.

As they marched, the air shifted and their bones rumbled. Someone, they knew, had just been reborn above the city. The power emanating from the blasted green seeped and churned with diabolical eminence.

“Come on soldier,” a gruff veteran shouted, pushing along a younger guard who had gone stock still. “Can’t freeze up without even seeing the enemy!”

The young man flinched, his legs trying to keep up with the older man’s speed. “W-what is that!?” was all his mouth could fumble out.

The veteran’s voice boomed, “Don’t know! But we are going to kill it!”

A wave of cheers sounded from the nearby units. The sound deafened the streets, echoing against the tall brick buildings. Resonating force then sent the marching soldiers into overdrive, each of their steps bolstered with shouts of anger and irritation.

The guards let out a feral roar.

“They come to kill our queen!” he yelled again. “They will not take her!”

They roared again.

“They bring their king to the battle! A blind one at that!”

Someone from the crowd, his face obscured in the fog, yelled, “Should be an easy fight then, eh!?”

“You’re damn right!” the veteran screeched as other similar calls echoed.

They rounded a corner, the random courtyard coming into obscured vision. Puffs of red premortal power ignited through the fog as bolts of lightning zipped by. Two warriors already were a part of the fray, axe and shields in their hands. They battled through the army of robed cultists, pushing them back like beetles invading an ant nest.

“Give them hell!” the veteran shouted. His weapon out, he pushed into the war just before the overhead green erupted.

Spencer split his focus between three main points now. His wife and friends battling alongside a just-arrived platoon of guards. His son and his friends, one of whom was screaming his head off, in a random inn. And lastly Harbinger Ashford and whatever corrupt power he now breathed.

He had seen parasitic weapons consume their host before. He’s even taken down the aftermath once or twice. Never, never, had he seen someone consume their weapon. It wasn’t unheard of, but it was also rare enough that some believed the reward of letting a parasite live off you was a false hope. A hoax. A tale the old-timers told the youngsters after a drink or two as to why they didn’t have one themselves.

To Spencer, Glenny’s screaming turned into ample background noise. His wife’s bolts of exploding lightning were masked by the thump of his heart. The clash of Diana and Roy’s weapons were drowned out by the cracking of divine bone under Ashford’s steps. He even lost where the Pathways Witch moved.

Everything to him, an archmage of incredibly high renown, was lost in the episodic nature of the divine mysticism currently happening above Ivory Reach. Or rather, above the castle.

Then the bones surrounding the city broke.

The ribs cracked, green corruption spreading through them like wildfire. Parts crumbled to dust, broken under the very divine power that they once properly held. Splinters fell, crashing down like javelin dropped from the heavens. They pierced deep into the stone and soil, suddenly becoming pikes calling for the heads of the royal family.

Spencer gawked, opening as many portals above the castle as he could. It was rough going, the castle’s defenses soaring high into the air. They were weaker, however, allowing the archmage a chance at helping.

In various places across the immediate kingdom, bone splinters from a long dead unknown Lord suddenly screamed to a stop, having fallen through an opening in the sky. They sundered the countryside, breaking apart once scenic isolated places and turning them into places of death. Corruption leaked from these bones, skulking into the dirt like a pesticide designed to kill.

Cursing at himself, sweat dripped from Spencer’s face as the magic took a toll on him. Mana became scarce, his body suddenly dry. Reaching into himself, a small tea cup appeared perfectly in his fingers. He took it to his lips instantly, the smooth nectar inside like a drop of water to a person dying of thirst. Instantly his body bounced back, and just as instantly, more portals opened above the castle sending bone shards away.

It wasn’t every day that Spencer used his parasitic item, but when he did, his mana never ran dry.

After the third round of sending shards away, Spencer’s split attention came back in full force. His wife and friends, fine. His son, fine. Jude, fine. Glenny… not so much. He inspected the boy while opening more and more portals. From the outside, he looked fine. No wounds, no blood, nothing.

Watching Glenny clutch his head, however, sent chills down his spine.

“He’s here!” Glenny shouted, the walls shaking at his volume.

Spencer looked, scouring the immediate area for threats. The streets, other than the fog, were empty.

“He’s here! He’s here! He’s here! He’s here!”

Blood was now spilling from Glenny’s nose, droplets the size of tablespoons. Jude had his arms on his shoulders, yelling something the delirious boy couldn’t hear. Leland, his grimoire open and halo flying above his head, tapped him again and again with healing magic. The blood continued to waterfall, flowing onto the inn’s floorboards.

Spencer watched his son curse, a regal healing potion appearing in his hands. It was one of the expensive ones, the stolen ones. The kind that was rumored to be able to heal any ailment.

He never took out the stopper, his thumb frozen. Spencer did a double take, missing multiple shards of bone in the process. He then saw what his son did.

The blood soaking the floorboards shifted. It vibrated and hummed, a joyous tone reverberating across its crimson surface. It slowly moved itself, shifting along the floor unnaturally like water running uphill.

Then an eye appeared.

Basking in grim liquid, the eye opened, swimming and swiveling until it looked onto Glenny.

“I found you,” the eye whispered before abruptly erupting.

Spencer’s reaction was the fastest. A portal opened and closed, the eye moving between locations in that split second it was open.

Another eye appeared in the blood, this time Jude reacted first. He stomped, slashing the red death like a child jumping in puddles. He flexed his heel just to make sure it was gone, only for another to appear right after. Leland defended against this one, a shield of water appearing on his wrist in mere heartbeats.

The eye rebounded off the shield, soaring high in an arc before being swallowed by a portal. Leland then canceled the spell, letting all of the water gathered on his wrist fall. The sudden deluge excavated the pool of blood, sending it away.

Or, it would have, if it was normal blood.

“Dad!” Leland then shouted. “We are running!”

Spencer agreed with his son’s assessment, summoning portals that swallowed the eyes as they came. It took Jude and Leland a moment to get Glenny up and moving, but as soon as they took their first step, a large portal opened and consumed them. They reappeared on the other side of the city, blood still falling from Glenny’s nose.

Each drip created a new eye, each drip launching another attack by the Sightless King.

Spencer pivoted, changing his attention. Lucia, his wife, came into view. Countless cultists smoked dead around her, their skin charred black and their clothes smoldering. A portal opened beside her.

“Boys need help. Blood magic of some sort,” Spencer said through a smaller portal eye level with her.

Having portals appear before her was something she had never gotten fully accustomed to, especially in the heat of battle. So while she did flinch, she also didn’t hesitate long. Her long legs carried her into the street where her son and his friends ran, the portal snapping shut behind her. Instantly a bolt of lightning blasted from her finger tip, shredding into a bloody eye and turning it to dust.

“Mom, help!” Leland yelled. “The Sightless King—”

“Oh goody,” the trail of blood behind them screeched. “Another to feed my belly!”

Several things happened all at once. Spencer and Lucia both reacted to the voice with cold murderous action, their years upon years of fighting together coming together and culminating in a single attack. Lightning as thin as a horse’s hair blossomed like a lily, splitting off into fourteen random directions just as twenty eight portals the size of coins splattered across the street. The horse hairs surged through the portals, each cracking into the ground where drops of blood rested.

The street then erupted, cobblestone exploding and blasting away the immediate fog.

“Missed,”the voice of the Sightless King mocked just before a small blotch of blood on Glenny’s collar shimmered.

A hand broke through the dyed fabric, clashing against Glenny’s neck and throwing him into the air. The hand pulled and squeezed, continuing to rise up and easily fighting off Jude and Leland’s attempts to keep their friend on the ground. The Sightless King’s mettle proved strong, and soon Glenny was hurtling above roofs and chimneys.

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