The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 619: Commanding the Horde

Chapter 619: Commanding the Horde

Fable loped across the city in long strides, tracing the path I’d stumbled to find him in a matter of minutes. We passed hundreds of scions milling about the ruins, digging through rubble, and searching for mortal survivors to consume. They raised their heads as we passed, fixing their beady eyes on my soul.

"Come to me," I whispered, calling them through the Nexus.

The rune in their souls came to life, impressing my will upon them, and they converged on me. They came from the noble district, the fields, and the streets of ruined homes and businesses. Their souls lit up the dark, ashen city, streaming behind Fable like the trail of a comet.

A few evolved demons were scattered amongst the growing horde, having left the battle to hunt down straggling groups of soldiers and patrols. They managed to keep pace with my wolf, sending me bursts of concentrated emotion and sensory experiences. The information was real and vivid, from the coppery taste of blood on their tongues to the pain of a spear piercing their hide.

"Stop, please," I said, gripping my horn as my head started to ache. "Can’t any of you just speak to me?"

The demons fell quiet, glancing at each other in confusion. A twenty-foot-tall fire demon shaped like a flaming bear shared his confusion through the Nexus.

"Not a single one?" I groaned, forcing my grip to loosen.

Evolved demons were more intelligent than scions and could usually understand spoken language. But, apparently, not a single one of the ones I’d found were capable of speaking it in return. They were like Borealis instead of Fyren.

Spoken language wasn’t actually normal for demons. They were immortal beings whose existences revolved around souls and power, not relationships, like mortals. They had no need for specific understandings or definitions and communicated through sharing emotions, impressions, and memories. It was similar to how I communicated with Fable, save their minds were completely alien. I was pretty sure they didn’t even have half the emotions I did, like empathy and loneliness. Instead, they had an entire spectrum of feelings for the things I simply understood as "anger" or "lust."

The information was vivid and real, down to the taste of blood and the pain of wounds. It wasn’t as simple as watching a movie, though, as every experience was jumbled and completely achronological. My head started to hurt as I sorted through it all, putting pieces together like a puzzle.

The memories of Lord Evlon were tainted with pain and fear. His magic slaughtered hundreds and drove countless more into the corners of the city. It was these scattered I now gathered, as well as those who’d gotten lost during the initial invasion, leaving the information on what was going on in the keep now sparse.

What I did learn, however, was that everything had changed once the crystal enchantment fell. Something called "the indisputable" lured the High Inquisitor away, allowing the demons a chance to attack the keep proper.

"Why, though?" I muttered, glancing at the tide of infernal souls trailing after us. "Why aren’t you all there, too? Couldn’t they use your help?"

A chorus of answers echoed in my mind, making me wince. Again, it took a few minutes before I could sort through the chaos. When I finally reached an answer, my tail started to twitch, and I frowned at the demons.

"Really? No wonder you were so quick to answer my call," I mused.

In my experience, demon hierarchy had always seemed based on power, but if what they shared was true, it went much deeper than that. Evolved demons were powerful, yes, but also more intelligent. Scions existed in an animalistic state, driven by instinct alone. Without rational thought or sentience, they were left to wander wherever their desires took them, always looking for something to consume or hunt.

Upon evolving, a demon gained a measure of intelligence. As they consumed more and grew in power, so too did their mind. Scions were drawn to that, like ants to their queen. They sacrificed what little agency they had to the evolved demon, granting it more power and resources in return for a chance to hunt greater foes and have an opportunity for evolution.

"So, demons have packs, then?" I asked, tilting my head. "With an evolved demon as the leader?"

A wave of affirmation filled the nexus, and I sighed, letting my hand drop from my horn. Finally, we were getting somewhere.

"Then what about the mark? How does that factor into it?"

Another chorus of explanations later, I nodded, gradually seeing the picture. Packs could only get so large before even the most powerful minds lacked the capacity to direct their member’s every move. It wasn’t a real concern on a day-to-day basis, but when it came to forming armies or commanding a battlefield, a commander needed complete control over every troop’s movements.

To extend their control, powerful evolved demons utilized the pack principle, applying it to weaker evolved demons. This relationship was formalized through an infernal mark, which had been previously explained to me. With this mark, demons could issue commands, enabling instant communication across their armies. When multiple packs formed a connection via an infernal mark, they collectively became known as a horde.

"Is it tiered?" I asked, leaning slightly forward. "I mean, I gave you all my mark, but could you give other demons a mark, too? It’s a bother to have all of your voices in my head at the same time. It would be nice if I only had to speak with a few of you, kind of like how a commander only speaks with his direct subordinates and not every officer in the army."

The demons glanced at each other, but their responses were jumbled. I sighed and sat back, idly rubbing my horn. It seemed they weren’t quite intelligent enough to understand what I was asking.

"I’ll just ask Fyren later," I said, glancing at the fires burning on the horizon. "Maybe he can tell me how I even marked these guys in the first place."

My burned bright, but the time for questions ended as we arrived at the outer courtyards. Demons swarmed thick around the walls, tearing down the fortifications and dragging soldiers from the towers. The mana cannons had all gone dark, and the tattered flags of the church and empire were torn down and trampled underfoot.

The gates gaped open where Fable had broken through earlier, allowing the tide of demons access to the inner courtyards. I rose over Fable’s shoulders, hoping to glimpse the battle beyond, but the packs of demons blocked my sight.

Fable glanced at me before tensing, giving me a fraction of a second to grab before he leaped into the air. I screamed as we slammed into the side of a tower, his claws digging into the enchanted stone like butter. The weakened structure groaned beneath our weight, and my knuckles turned white as he clawed up a few steps before leaping again, landing atop the outer walls just above the gate. He strode forward atop one of the massive parapets overlooking the inner courtyards, proving a much better vantage point than the ground.

Bodies littered the inner courtyards; humans mingled with demons. Entire battalions and packs had been slaughtered and shoved into putrid heaps of flesh, blood, and scales. The supply tents were torn to shreds, their contents scorched, frozen, or torn to shreds.

The empire mounted a final defense at the smaller inner walls. Most of their rank-and-file soldiers had joined the fallen, leaving only hardened veterans and officers to keep the demons at bay. Their souls were a mix of fourth and fifth-level, with a few sixth and even a scattered seventh among them. Their eyes were dull and hopeless, reflecting the infernal light of the demon’s mana.

Fires raged in the complex behind the soldiers, erupting from the keep’s windows in gouts scorching light. Thick tendrils of mana wove between the flames, lingering remnants of the explosion the seventh-level high inquisitor had tried to kill Borealis with. The fire had spread to the cathedral and other nearby structures, sending storms of sparks into the darkened sky. The dome housing the shard collapsed completely by now, allowing us to glimpse the tip of the shard over the walls.

I watched the scene play out for a few long moments, feeling a heavy pang in my heart. The soldiers’ eyes were dull and hopeless, glinting with the reflected glare of the demon’s infernal auras. It wasn’t hard to understand their despair, and I couldn’t help but empathize with them.

They’d slaughtered the demons at first, but the tides had reversed. The crystal enchantment had vanished, leaving them ordinary soldiers constrained to their own power levels. To make matters worse, Celestial Grace had taken its place, turning the evolved demons into beacons of destruction. A demon that a fifth-level soldier could kill on their own now tore through even sixth-level soldiers.

But it didn’t end there. The fires of war had reached the keep and city they’d desperately fought to protect. The raging fires filled my gaze, and tears trickled down my cheeks. What would they do if they knew it was an inquisitor who had caused that? Maybe nothing, as they’d already seen Lord Evlon devastate the populated sectors of their city with eighth-circle spells. So many lives reaped, and all at the hands of their own kind.

There was no glory in this battle, not for the empire and not for me. My lip quivered as I closed my eyes and reluctantly sent my will to the demons who fought within the courtyard, as well as those I’d brought with me,

"Please, end their suffering. Take the keep."