The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 521: Schemes

Chapter 521: Schemes

The night was young and shrouded in a hazy gray, a thin veil of clouds obscuring the comforting light of the stars. Fable’s paws pounded the frozen earth as we chased the fleeting shadows of Luke and Jessia through the snow-dusted hills and treacherous mountain passes.

The biting autumn wind whipped at our backs, slicing through my dress and tugging my hair into crimson swirls. Flurries danced from the twilight sky like falling stars, settling on my hair and clothes only to be swept away by the relentless gusts.

I shivered, hunching low over Fable’s back, my knuckles white as I gripped his fur. It wasn’t the cold that chilled me—my wards kept the worst of it at bay—but a gnawing sense of guilt and unease that twisted my stomach into knots. The memory of Elise’s hurt expression and R’lissea’s panicked face when I agreed to accompany Luke clung to me like the morning’s shadows.

Now, nearly a hundred hours away from our camp, I sniffled, biting my lip to fight back tears. The decision to follow Luke had not been made lightly. But I would be lying if I said their callous words hadn’t stung, hadn’t driven me to act rashly. Looking back, there had been no other choice, but how would they see it? If something happened to me or them while we were apart, the memories of our last interaction would haunt me forever.

Though it was the first time I had ever truly snapped at someone in anger, I felt my feelings were justified. How could Elise and R’lissea be so willing to condemn an entire city? Elise and I had suffered similarly at the hands of this world and its twisted beliefs, yet why did she harbor such bitterness? Then again, Luke felt the same, if not worse. Was I the outlier for being so willing to forgive, to show mercy? And was that really a bad thing?

But justified or not, I hated the way snapping at them made me feel. I vowed never to speak in anger again or let my emotions control my actions. Those feelings were still new to me, and I was learning how to process them, but the one thing I knew was that this wasn’t who I wanted to be. I wouldn’t ever speak to anyone I loved like that again.

The mountains parted like curtains, revealing a vast valley nestled within their embrace. Whitecliff Keep, the fortress city of the Ingrid Alliance, dominated the landscape, its imposing stone walls and flickering lights a stark contrast to the snow-dusted slopes. This bustling city, home to nearly thirty thousand souls, guarded the only major road through the treacherous mountain pass. According to the war map, it was the final bastion protecting the vulnerable heartland of the Alliance. If Whitecliff Keep fell, the entire kingdom would be at the mercy of the ravenous demon hordes.

Before I knew it, Luke and Jessia were slowing, coming to a stop atop a ridge overlooking the city. I slipped from Fable’s back, my boots crunching in the thin layer of frost that formed atop the granite outcropping we stood upon. Without the constant rushing of the wind in my ears, the mountains felt still and eerie. The flurries had grown thicker, casting a white haze over the mountains, but I could make out several glimmering dots of light in the peaks around us–the forts that protected Whitecliff from attacks in all directions. They would be dug into the rugged cliffs and armed with mana cannons, powerful sentinels that, if unchecked, could halt the advance of any army.

"Look at it," Jessia said, folding her arms as she glared at the city. "They think themselves safe and secure, nestled like a bird in its nest."

"It’s said to have the second strongest defenses on the northern continent," Luke confirmed, nodding. "Taking it would be quite the accomplishment."

"If you hadn’t already destroyed the strongest," Jessia added with a smirk. I stepped back, bumping into Fable, as she turned to me with a glint in her eye. "But I hear we have you to thank for that."

It took me a moment to realize she was talking about Bluegate Keep and our timely attack on the fortress. The demon army had been on our heels and had taken advantage of our desperate assault on the Shard to waltz in and take the city. That had been when we’d managed to free Bethiv and unite the Last Light Company, as well as the close call Korra and I had with Luke and Gayron.

"I... it was just a coincidence," I stammered, flustered.

"A ninth-level elemental was a ’coincidence’?" Luke asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

I blushed, clutching my skirt tightly. "I just... no, that’s not important right now. What are we really doing here?"

Luke’s eyes narrowed. "I told you already. We’re here to survey the defenses, search for weak points, and formulate a plan of attack that minimizes casualties within our hordes. We need enough demons left to secure the newly opening Demon Gates, or we won’t have the strength to push to the southern end of the continent."

"Luke..." I tried to meet his gaze but couldn’t, my eyes drawn to the city below. "Please, don’t lie to me. I know that’s not the real reason you brought me here. Alone."

He frowned, his tail twitching slightly. "I’ve explained my reasoning for that already. It’s up to you to believe me or not."

It wasn’t the truth, not the whole truth, at least. So many things didn’t seem to add up, from the timing of their visit—waiting until Fyren was gone—to the disguises they wore. If this was a simple reconnaissance mission, why did it require the two strongest individuals in the demon army? Why not send scouts or someone trained in infiltration? And why not allow R’lissea to join us?

The real reason I agreed wasn’t just to save the innocent people of the city, though that was certainly a factor. Ultimately, I had no choice. Luke had made it clear that R’lissea’s life was in my hands, and only my obedience would ensure her protection. It was already a generous concession from the Apostle, as his mission mandated her death, and I couldn’t afford to squander that goodwill. Besides, I couldn’t bring myself to endanger anyone else in whatever scheme the apostles were planning. At the very least, I knew Luke wanted me alive and wouldn’t needlessly risk me. The same couldn’t be said for my friends.

Jessia nudged him, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Should we do it now?"

He nodded, and she tapped him on the chest with one finger. My eyes widened as her soul lit up with mana, channeled into a complex flow by an ability. A shimmering haze enveloped the Apostle of Curses, and I gasped as his appearance transformed. His hair turned brown, his eyes a warm hazel, his horns and tail seemingly evaporating into thin air. Combined with his everyday clothing, he now looked like an ordinary, unremarkable human.

It was yet another inconsistency in the story they’d given. Hadn’t R’lissea been denied the chance to accompany us because she was too recognizable? Yet now Jessia’s ability completely transformed a demonkin into a human. Just what in the world were they planning?

I’d assumed we were going to travel around to the forts and perhaps get closer to the city, yet why would that require disguises? Were we actually going to infiltrate the fortress? I couldn’t find another reason, yet how could they ever expect me to do something like that? Fable wouldn’t be able to follow, and without his protection, I would be left remarkably exposed and vulnerable.

"Your turn," a beautiful, blonde-haired girl said, grinning mischievously at me.

I blinked, backpedaling as the stranger stepped before me. My unease only increased as I realized it was Jessia. In the time I’d been worrying, she’d finished transforming Luke and herself, and was now ready for me.

She seemed to relish in my reluctance, and before I could react, her hand darted forward, grasping my wrist. I gasped, my breath leaving me, as a cold, foreign mana invaded my body, spreading to the furthest extremities. I instinctively rejected it, and a comforting, blazing warmth erupted from the depths of my soul, consuming it in an instant. No sooner had the shimmering aura appeared around me than it vanished, broken apart by adaptive resistance.

"Jessia?" Luke glanced at her, brow creased in confusion.

For her part, the Apostle of Secrets looked confused, a bit of curiosity slipping through her playful mask. "That’s never happened before. Did you do something?"

I pulled out of her grasp, shuddering as I hugged myself tightly. "P-please, don’t."

She tilted her head. "Don’t what? If we’re going to sneak into the city, you can’t look like that. You’re adorable, sure, but the red hair and horns are a little tell-tale, no?"

I shook my head, turning to Luke with pleading eyes. My fear was more than letting Jessia’s mana touch me, stemming from deep within myself. It was the same reason I’d never tried to dye my hair or learn illusion spells alone. I felt that, in some way, changing myself was admitting defeat, that I wasn’t good enough the way I was, and that I was denying my freedom. I didn’t expect sympathy from Luke, but his face softened as he noted my tail curling anxiously around empty air and the tremors that rocked my body.

"We’ve got to get inside, Xiviyah," he explained gently. "They have a defensive formation connected to their shard, which I must know about. You’re a demonkin, so it’s either a disguise, or you pretend to be my slave. It’s not that bad, I promise."

"I-It is," I said, my heart pounding. But I couldn’t defy his logic. If it was a choice between being a slave and dressing up a little, that was no choice at all. Better to deny my appearance than pretend to be a slave.

This time, I only flinched as Jessia took my hand. It took everything I had to suppress Adaptive Resistance and let her power fill me, closing my eyes as the change occurred. Only when the foreign power faded, leaving just a thin skin of illusion magic over me, did I open my eyes.

Luke was staring at me, but he quickly looked away, the corner of his lips twitching in a small smile. "Good. Let’s get going then."