110 Chapter 38 - Grave Portals (1/2)
”For the Three, we will not falter!” Jack roared as his Holy Sword 'Fearless' cut another Sand Devil down. The horned creatures with rough skin texture like the red dirt of the Crimsonwastes were hard to see, and were but one of several Demonic Tribes that called this Three forsaken waste home.
Behind him, the Nameless Legion unleashed the Three's own wrath upon the enemy, a mixture of crusader skills and long perfected cohesion crumbling the scatted Sand Devils to the wind.
When they were done the enemies bodies lay strewn across the dirt, and one by one were set ablaze with [Blessing - Fire] so that their strength would not be passed onto yet another demon in turn.
”Press on, we're nearly there,” Jack grunted, wading through a sudden pool of blood that had seeped up through the earth. Like the rest of this wounded land it was a reminder of what hell the demons tried to spread across all of Alandria. The Blackened trees were strewn with organs that aloud the timber to breath and howl, while demonic birds growled, and lakes of crimson blood lay filled with unholy horrors of tentacle and tooth.
Too long they trudged through the nightmare, the holy element shield projected by the War Golem burning a path through the filth and holding off the Demon Tribesmen that crawled along the hillsides. Jack eyed them cautiously, atop their monsterous pets with too many arms and legs, with split heads the Tribesmen watched with dark wooden spears in hand or wand and flame like how Jack might hold a bow and arrow.
Yet unlike the starving Tribesmen from before, these would know of what had drawn the Templar. Raising a gore covered spear high, the lead Tribesmen turned and vanished into the rotting woods, along with his warriors.
”The Gore Hounds, it seems they like you,” Dana giggled, and pulled at her cloth. ”Strange thing about being a saint, I'd never had assumed that you could still overheat.”
”Corrupt Saint,” Jack Muttered as he cut down a series of bleeding vines, ”You are not as you should be. Nothing is.”
”Aye, little peon. You are quite correct,” Dana said and peered about to find them ascending a hill. Sniffing, her head lulled back and forth. ”We're here, I can smell the death magic,” she whispered and pulled away from her cloth. Blinding light to reveal a holy woman bleeding darkness from the many cracks and fissures across her body.
Holding Fearless tightly, Jack gave the hand-signs. They would know of their arrival no doubt and would have summoned what evils they could. Already the Flower Knigth led the vanguard, her faith in him far exceeding any expectations. She could be free, she had her chance to run, and yet still she chose to risk her life for the Warden.
Emerging into a clearing, Jack spied a grey and red vortex above a far away alter. Dropping from the vortex can a pair of Crimson Behemoths, 12 feet tall beasts of red scale and black spikes with claws designed to burrow through castle' walls.
Below were real demons - red-skinned children with a single horn. The imps. Followed in lesser numbers by red-skinned humanoids that took any semblance of uniformity liberally with mismatching numbers of limbs, heads, tusks and arms. The Demon Spawn.
Yet Jack could spy no summoner - there, in the sky, a brief flash of crimson light had outline the winged frame of a creature. It was too far away now, but Jack jostled Dana and pointed.
”Leave it to me,” she said and flew up and away with burning wings that leaked a reteched aura of decay. Flittering up from the surrounding trees came winged demon spawn, spears and tridents in hand or talon-like feet as they homed in the Corrupt Saint.
”Defend the War Golem, do not let them damage it until it has closed the portal!” Jack roared to his men, each knowing full well that their lives came second to stopping the threat. Unless the portal was closed permanently, not simply just cutting off it's power supply, then the demons here could slowly build up an army to attack the fortresses again, and again.