The Forsaken Hero
Chapter 647: Nature of the Invasion

Chapter 647: Nature of the Invasion

Gathrin looked at me for a long moment until my tail started to twitch anxiously. Was he still angry with me about Fyren?

"I think it would be best to continue this conversation elsewhere, " he said, then muttered under his breath, "The last thing I need is Fate upset with me again."

Fable padded close, and Gathrin extended a hand. Hesitantly, I placed mine in his, searching his face for an explanation. His massive gauntlets, easily thrice the size of my slender hand, held a surprising gentleness.

"Um, Gathrin, what are we—"

My breath caught as he pulled me close, hands settling on my waist. I let slip a startled squeak and instinctively tried to pull back, but it was too late. The ground vanished beneath my feet, and a dizzying rush of weightlessness left me perched awkwardly atop Fable’s broad back.

"A little warning next time?" I mumbled, my fingers reflexively digging into Fable’s thick fur.

"For someone so nonchalant around an eighth-level demon," Gathrin said, "you’re awfully skittish about the strangest things."

My cheeks flushed, and the tip of my tail twitched erratically.

"S-sorry," I stammered, "I just...don’t like being handled like that."

Or at all, I added silently.

"I suppose not," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice. "Now, shall we join Rivlitt?"

"The inn? But I just woke up!"

Ignoring my complaints, Gathrin patted Fable’s shoulder. "Come, wolf. Let us hurry."

Fable dipped his head and, despite my scowl, followed after the remnant. The islands flowed beneath us like water, and the astral wind whipped at my hair, unfurling it in crimson waves. A few remnants, still lingering after Fyren’s chaotic appearance, drifted nearby, but none approached.

Within minutes, we crossed the floating stone path to the Last Light Inn. Gathrin offered his hand again, his fingers curled in a silent invitation. I gave him a reproachful look before taking it, a fresh wave of apprehension tightening my tail.

This time, thankfully, he simply steadied me as I dismounted, guiding me gently to the ground. I offered a tentative smile, and he chuckled, ruffling my hair.

"I’m not a child," I grumbled, pushing his giant hand away. "Why does everyone do that?"

"Perhaps not by your standards," he replied, a touch of ancient wisdom in his eyes, "but to an immortal? Even the wisest crone is little more than a babe."

I self-consciously patted my hair, trying to smooth the tangles. It wasn’t like I’d even brushed it today, not after the vision. But such a casual touch, however well-meaning, left me feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way I couldn’t quite articulate. It was like something was being taken from me, similar to when Gathrin picked me up.

The moment we stepped across the threshold of the Last Light Inn, the warmth from the blazing hearth enveloped me, chasing away the lingering unease. Rivlitt had already set a small bowl of broth and a roll at one of the tables. His brow furrowed when he saw us, and he took a step towards me, then hesitated.

"Is everything alright? The demon didn’t hurt you, did he?"

I sank into the waiting chair, leaning back against the headrest. A wave of exhaustion washed over me, and I heaved a weary sigh.

"It was just Fyren. Even if he’s a demon, he’s my friend."

"She exhausted herself calling him," Gathrin said, folding his arms. "I’m just grateful we made it here before she passed out."

I opened my mouth to protest – I wasn’t that tired – but a yawn came out instead. Gathrin and Rivlitt exchanged amused glances, their eyes twinkling. My cheeks warmed, and I quickly looked away, gripping my skirt with both hands.

"I-I’m fine," I mumbled.

But even I couldn’t deny the jittering of my aura or the extra weight my body seemed to have gained. As Gathrin took the chair opposite me, I hid another yawn.

"So, you wonder about the demons that invaded Enusia?" Gathrin asked, leaning back. "I can’t say I’m too familiar with the realm, but the answer seems fairly straightforward. What do you think are Enusia’s greatest strengths?"

I frowned thoughtfully, staring into the bowl. Steam wafted from the broth, tickling my nose with an aroma that made my mouth water.

"Their souls," I said, looking into the remnant’s eyes. "Compared to the demons so far, Enusia has a lot of powerful souls."

He raised a finger. "Not just that. You’ve only ever seen this one realm, so you wouldn’t know it, but it has an unnaturally high concentration of priests. Enusia is one of the Divine’s most precious worlds, and has always been a stronghold of devotion and faith."

"Is that why they sent ten heroes to protect it?" I asked.

"Something like that, though even with fewer, a demon invasion could easily have been thwarted. In my world, I alone faced the demons, and came out victorious."

"But everything changed with me," I said softly, "The demons called apostles, and I didn’t die."

"While your presence was certainly influential, this world was already meant to be a pivotal battle in the coming conflict."

"A conflict bigger than just Enusia? I think Fate mentioned that, once," I said.

"Exactly, though I’m afraid the details of that must remain hidden. Suffice it to say everything has gone wrong for both gods and demons. Enusia was meant by both sides to be a testing ground for new magic and technology, like the apostles and heart crests. The gods called so many heroes to secure their side and protect their investments until they matured. The demons simply wished to experiment. They knew full well they could never beat so many heroes on a world so filled with the Divine’s power, so they planned to use this as a chance to lay the foundation for the war."

"It was never about protecting Enusia, was it," I said.

He shook his head. "Remember what I said? Things are never simple or easy with immortal beings. This world was simply a space on the chess board, a pawn on both sides. That’s changed, now, and this actually is your fault. You were like a spark in a tinderbox, starting a fire well before it’s ready. The fate of this world is no longer certain, and the war between Infernal and Divine has begun."

"I didn’t do anything," I murmured, shaking my head slightly. "I just...wanted to be free."

"That’s what this is all about," Gathrin said. "Freedom. For all of us. Mortal and Immortal."

His words were strangely emphatic, and I looked up, tilting my head. He smiled sadly and folded his arms.

"I suppose that was a bit too much information for you. Let’s get back to your question. The demons sent Blade, Fire, and Curse. What do you know about these attributes?"

"Fire is destructive," I said, "But it doesn’t really do anything in particular. Blade Demons are really strong and resist magic better than most others. Is that why they came here?"

"Indeed. Blade Demons excel against mages and priests. Their unique constitutions allow them to shrug off almost any magic weaker than them, and their magical techniques and spells specialize in piercing wards and defenses. The best counter to them is, ironically, another blade, but Enusia has a low percentage of martially focused high-level beings."

"Curses are good against magic, too," I said.

He nodded in approval. "Very good. As you’ve experienced recently, curses are one of the best means to attack powerful souls. They can cripple mana flow, inhibit regeneration, and even corrupt spells before they are cast."

"Why don’t the demons use slave crests? Doesn’t curse magic do that, too?" I asked.

"Demons don’t care for control, but to consume. They may make alliances with mortals, like the demon and beastkin accompanying the apostle’s army, but more often than not they will turn and consume them too."

"Oh," I said, looking at my lap. "Then...what about Fire?"

He eased back in his chair, rubbing his chin. "That, I’m afraid, is something I’m not allowed to tell you."

A shiver ran down my spine. "You can’t?"

He shook his head. "Not because I don’t want to, but..."

"It’s dangerous for me to know," I murmured, rubbing my horn.

It didn’t make any sense. The only reason Fate kept secrets from me was so they wouldn’t be stolen. But if the remnants in Haven knew about the demon’s plans, wouldn’t the gods naturally be informed as well?

But what if...what if that wasn’t true? Could the demons somehow be a part of Fate’s plan, too? Was it just the Fire Demons, or were the others involved? Did Luke know about it? Another thought struck me, and my heart fluttered, missing a beat.

"Does Fyren have anything to do with this?" I asked, gripping my skirt tightly.

Gathrin smiled faintly. "I wish I could answer that and put your mind at ease, but I’ve said too much already. If he is a part of this, telling you would jeopardize his role. And if he isn’t, then that would remove him as an unknown variable for our enemies."

I tilted my head, tail swishing under the table. "Is he that important?"

"Yes," Gathrin said simply. "Yes, he is. And that is why, even if you believe him to be your friend, I warn you to be careful of him. Fyren is more dangerous than any demon in this world."