Book 5 - Chapter 54 - The Cavalry (1/2)

Zoren Leclair was a respected archbishop. There were many among Skycloud’s lower and middle class who adored him. However, this did not stop him from being cut down by Cloudhawk’s hand.

The barbarian leader had crushed a portion of Sanctuary in one attack and followed it up by murdering an archbishop. A coterie of relic-using mutant were now tearing through noble demonhunters with bloodthirsty abandon. Each fact was more shocking than the last and painted Cloudhawk more and more like a demon. And indeed, all of these tragedies were piled on Cloudhawk’s shoulders. He was an enemy the likes of which Skycloud had never seen in a thousand years.

When it rains, it pours. From a time of peace to sudden war! After today, the name Cloudhawk would shake the world. Whether in Skycloud or the wastelands, he would go down in history.

Oren was close enough to see the death of the Archbishop in clear detail. Fury rose up in him like a volcano. Never had he encountered a fiend like this traitor. There were other more powerful, but none had ever given Oren such a shock.

The inherent strength and violence of wastelanders gave them a crude advantage. Each moment they were locked in close combat with the demonhunters, they were gaining the upper hand. Where the Demonhunter Corps excelled was in their many different sorts of relics. The mutants had only exorcist rods, so in terms of equipment they were far inferior to the Elysian fighters.

However, equipment wasn’t the only determining factor in war.

These mutants were once throw-away wasteland fodder. Each of them had clawed their way to prominence through a world of blood and corpses. Every jump in strength, every moment of growth was earned through life and death situations. Such a life had taught them to fight as ferociously as the mindless beasts that stalk the wastes. Once the Demonhunter Corps was forced into close combat, they began to lose out against the mad bloodlust of their wasteland foes.

In a fit of rage Oren released a wave of gravitational force. A Goshawk warrior caught in the area was smashed flat as a pancake, armor and all. But the grizzly scene did not deter the other mutants. On the contrary, they roared a challenge and charge ahead.

Cloudhawk flung an orb of Castigation fire at Oren. The Knight-Commander was familiar the Crimson One’s power, enough to know not to dismiss it. He manipulated gravity to force to ground some distance away. A moment later, Cloudhawk’s figure burst forth from empty space with the Silver Serpents gleaming thirstily. Zoren wasn’t here to protect the Knight-Command any longer. It was unlikely he would survive another lethal blow.

Oren screamed in angry protest. His gravitational field spread far and wide, increasing weight a hundred fold dozens of meters around.

Caught within in the field, Cloudhawk felt himself instantly grow heavier. It was so intense he found it difficult to move at all.

But Cloudhawk was no grunt. He quickly retreated from the scope of Oren’s power and replaced his sword with a bow. He started to blink from one location to another, shooting an arrow each time he appeared. In the space of an instant eight arrows were converging on Oren’s position.

Basilisk was a dangerous relic to face! Oren was forced to knock the arrows away with his staff. He managed to protect himself from the arrows, but before he could catch his breath a shadow fell over him from above. Sunstroke lashed at the Knight-Commander, causing him to shuffle backward out of its range.

“Leave him to me!” The drunk looked over his shoulder at Cloudhawk. “Don’t waste time. Save Dawn!”

In all the chaos, Cloudhawk had almost been distracted from the reason they were here. Freed from his clash with Oren, he reached out with his mind to Oddball. The bird had been scouring the battlefield at Cloudhawk’s command. It spied several demonhunters closing on Dawn, ready to light the pyre. She was tied fast to the stake and could only watch her doom approach.

Sons of bitches! Cloudhawk took control of his beast companion. Oddball went into a nose dive, streaking through the air like a golden bullet. The demonhunters were not prepared for the small creature and had their guard down. When the streak of gold struck them, they were flung off the dais like rag dolls.

Oddball came to rest in from of Dawn and used its steel-like beak to begin pecking at her bindings. One of the thick chains holding her fell away. Dawn watched with trepidation, a smile on her tear-streaked face.

As Oddball was working on the next chain she shouted a warning. “Cloudhawk, watch out!”

A gust of frigid air followed in the wake of Frozen Dirge. It was aimed to run the little bird through.

Oddball belched a streak of golden lightning at the weapon. Cloudhawk’s divine beast was no match for Frost, but it could protect itself from his spear. However, the bolt only managed to slow Frozen Dirge somewhat, not stop it.

Chirp! Oddball released a shrill sound and the rotund critter swelled to five or six times its girth. Its wings spread to a span or two or three meters. Dagger-like talons snatched Frozen Dirge as it closed in.

Frost’s face darkened like a winter storm. Holding onto the shaft of the spear, he spared no strength in trying to wrench it free.

A burst of power bloomed from Frozen Dirge which launched Oddball away. The bird found itself encased in ice, unable to protect itself from a follow-up attack. But Frost’s ire was turned from Oddball and his spear stabbed at Dawn.

She could do nothing. The icy light of his spear was reflected in her wide eyes.

An instant before the weapon skewed her, a figure – both familiar and foreign – appeared in the space between them. Frozen Dirge was held fast in her savior’s hand.

Frost felt a surge of power sweep through him. His spear would go no further. The Commander-General of the expeditionary force raised his head.

He was a mess of rags, bandages that dripped with blood. All that could be seen were his dark eyes that burned with an inner fire. Frozen Dirge was caught in a gauntleted hand. In a hard, grim voice the man growled: “You dare try to kill one of mine?”

Cloudhawk had appeared at the apex of Sanctuary, alone. Did he not know that most of Skycloud’s strongest were seated only meters away? It was suicide!

When Cloudhawk’s words reached her ears, Dawn couldn’t help but feel even more moved. How desperately she wished she was his, and not just as an ally!

Frost did not respond. The murderous intent in his glare said enough. He released the wintry power from Frozen Dirge.