The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 590: Beneath the Covers

Chapter 590: Beneath the Covers

I leaned heavily on my staff and kept close to the walls, using them for support. Walking was slow at first, but my feet became more sure with every step, my legs trembling a bit less. Whenever I came between gaps in buildings, I slowed to a crawl, taking it slow and steady and always keeping an eye above me. The building’s eaves provided some protection from the sky, but out in the open, I would be visible to anyone flying by. I doubted I’d actually be able to see the skyships, but the glow of the mana cannons might be visible against the darkened sky.

A sharp voice sliced through the muddled silence, freezing me mid-step. The words were indistinct and hazy, but the tone alone sent chills down my spine. I pressed myself against the rough stone, holding my breath. One of my hands pressed against the gritty stone, but the other groped empty air. Feeling about, I found a vertical opening stretching over my head. A doorway?

More voices rose behind me, and I stumbled through the gap, shielding my face with my hands. Almost no light filtered through the doorway into the street, reducing the entire building interior to a dark blur. My demonkin eyes were no more help in complete darkness than they were in the twilight outside, but I pushed on into the unknown.

The shouting grew louder, drawing me forward. I tripped over something solid, sprawling onto my hands and knees. My staff clattered across the floor before dissipating in a mist of stars. Pain shot up my arms as my scraped palms pressed into the hardwood, but it was eclipsed as my tail lashed out, striking a wooden pillar. A wave of fire erupted up my spine, and I covered my mouth, barely holding back a scream. The pain was hot and intense, scattering my thoughts and threatening my mind with darkness.

Another shout drove me forward, crawling over the floor with reckless abandon. Light flashed in the corner of my vision, piercing what seemed to be a window and illuminating half the room. It was all blurry, but I could make out what looked like a table. A few chairs were scattered on their side, one of which I had tripped over.

Heading for the darkness, My hands brushed against soft fabric, and I pushed forward, pulling myself onto a bed. The rough sheets scraped against my wounds, but I burrowed beneath them, curling up, clutching my aching tail. It throbbed against my chest, a small trickle of blood wetting my hands. The impact had shaken a bandage loose and cracked the scabs open.

The muted thumps of footsteps surrounded me, and a few shafts of light penetrated the blankets. I whimpered, clutching my tail until it ached, and held my breath until the lights and voices moved on.

I huddled under the blankets long after their voices faded, weeping silently in the suffocating darkness. My hand reached for my staff, then fell limp. I’d dropped it somewhere in my desperate flight, but perhaps that was for the best. Its soft glow might have betrayed me, and there was no way I’d be able to hide it underneath the blankets with me.

Another sob built in my throat, slipping loose amid another wave of tears. It had been my only companion, and now I couldn’t risk summoning it back. I was alone again.

No matter how much I cried, the tears never filled the emptiness inside. Gradually, after what felt like hours, they subsided. Not because the grief was gone, but because I simply lacked the strength to weep any longer. My grip loosened on my tail, and my breathing grew shallow. Darkness crept into my mind, and within minutes, I was asleep.

Next I knew, I was standing atop the deck of a skyship, overlooking the city. Night had fallen, and as I gathered myself, I got the impression this vision occurred in real-time. My soul body was faint, but my senses remained free of my injuries. It was too much, even the rush of color and sound disorienting after the muted darkness of my physical body.

The skyship hovered a few hundred feet above the central keep, almost exactly where we’d been shot out of the sky. Dozens of craters and leveled buildings marred the city, but much remained intact. Lights flickered in windows across the city, causing it to glow like the night sky.

Most of the damage was constrained to the western sectors, where the buildings looked like they’d been swept by a broom. A blackened crater several hundred feet across showed where the lance had hit, but the rest of the damage must have come from the earthquakes and shockwaves I’d felt throughout the evening. The mountains had crumbled against the walls and, in some places, overflowed into the city, but the entire section was lit only by a few raging fires. There were no lights in the windows nor streams of refugees fleeing the damage. It looked empty, abandoned, even, save for a few soldiers patrolling the streets.

My brow furrowed, and I turned to look at the rest of the ship. The decks were undamaged, but otherwise the same. The mana cannons were depowered, but warriors and mages lined the ship, casting wary gazes at the city below. Three seventh-level soldiers stood at the helm, conversing with two youths I recognized: Verity and Connor. The others, including Verity, avoided the Undead Hero, never quite meeting his eyes.

I willed myself closer, hovering just above their heads.

Verity’s eyes wavered, her voice sounding on the edge of tears. "I’m not hiding anything. My visions aren’t exact. All I saw was them casting the Grand Aegis. It’s already incredible the plan worked until—" Her hands froze mid-gesture, her eyes glazing over. She tilted her head, meeting my gaze, but stared right through me.

"Until what? You said she’d be defenseless, so why haven’t we found the filthblood yet?" a seventh-level warrior asked, folding his arms.

His sharp voice startled her, and she shook her head, clasping her hands together. "I-I don’t know. My vision lasted until our skyship blasted them from the sky, but... she has to be alive, right?"

"Corpses don’t run," Connor said, dark eyes glowing ominously. "They evacuated that part city to avoid civilian casualties, so even if she died, it’s not like her body would hide amongst the dead."

The man nodded, gaze hardening. "Exactly. We’ve found nothing to indicate–"

"General Cladius, sir!" A young woman in a crisp leather uniform ran up to them and saluted sharply.

"Go ahead," the man, who could only be the general, said.

"W-we received a report, sir! Lieutenant Alve located where she must have fallen. He found blood." She swallowed hard. "Lots of blood, but no corpse. They tracked her for a few streets but lost the trail."

"Went cold? How is that possible?" the general asked.

The woman stiffened, sweat breaking out on her brow. "Even with all that blood for reference, their spells couldn’t lock onto her. They’ve started combing the streets, but she’s had almost an hour to escape."

"She’s alive," Verity said, eyes brightening a bit. "I knew it."

"You’ll never find her with divination magic," Connor said, rubbing his chin.

Verity nodded. "Right, but she couldn’t have gotten far. The crystal enchantments should have drained all her active spells, and her mana will take days to regenerate. And if there was that much blood..."

"She’ll never make it anywhere. She might not even survive the night," Connor finished.

The general saluted the soldier, who promptly fled. "I don’t like this at all. We shot them down, but the Life Hero’s the only one we got. We weren’t even able to kill that damned wolf, or verify how many were on the bird in the first place."

"We have to find the filthblood before the wolf does, or we’ll lose them," one of the other seventh-level soldiers said. This one was a mage, dressed in deep, crimson robes. "There’s something wrong with that monster. It’s too intelligent. If it hadn’t ambushed the fourth battalion, we would have captured both girls immediately."

"How many did you lose?" Verity asked, face pale.

"All of them. A hundred men, the weakest of which was third-level."

A heavy silence descended. Connor stared at the mage, impassive, but Verity bit her lip.

"I-I’m sorry," she stammered, lowering her head.

The mage waved his hand. "Think nothing of it. We soldiers of the empire don’t need the gods’ foul curses to die for our families. They gave their lives willingly, and the rest of us will do so to secure the future of our land."

The general cleared his throat, nodding. "Even so, I’d like to minimize casualties. That was the purpose of our plan in the first place. If we succeed in crippling their leadership, the rest of the demons will die like dogs in the canyon. We’ll buy enough time for the church’s reinforcements before the other demon armies finish with the Alliance."

The soldiers all nodded, but the mage frowned.

"Easier said than done," he muttered, turning from their group and gazing at the city. "It would be better if the strike force arrived quickly. Alvera’s been acting strange, and I’d appreciate another eighth-level mage defending the Shard."

The general started to nod before they all stiffened. A fraction of a second later, the ship rocked, pitching violently through my incorporeal body, born aloft by a glowing, violet shockwave. Mana charged the air, slick and oily against my soul. Curse magic.

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