B2 Chapter 274: Flight, pt. 1

The last ascent to the courtyard felt weighty, every footfall crashing through Kaius’s body.

He knew that each one brought him a step closer to the final barrier to his and his team’s escape—a mirror to the gradual increase in the quality and furnishings of their surroundings.

The militaristic simplicity of smooth hewn stone and simple wardlights faded with every long-stride they ascended—replaced by bevelled edges, and intricate wrought iron light housings.

Tapestries started to line the walls. Delicate and intricate things—the kind that might be found in the abode of a rich merchant, or a lesser noble. Not quite works of unfathomable wealth, but things of refinement—depicting scenes of hunting and battle.

Kaius thought they were rather bland, in all honesty. The kind of thing that carried significant costs due to the labour involved, but held no sense of identity or personal taste—an unaffronting and unassuming presentation of wealth alone.

In all likelihood, it was another layer of security—a way for Old Yon to hide the true nature of this compound behind a veneer of a noble family’s private business interest, or perhaps even a holiday home. He knew from his few ‘trips’ above that the building above—the surface level portion of the compound, one he’d only seen on a few occasions thanks to porters making unapproved detours—was very similar to a manor. Albeit, a manor that was close enough in form and function to a fort that it might as well be one.

Returning his attention to the moment at hand, Kaius pushed himself to move faster. Any extra second spent on the grounds of their enemy was a wasted one.

His team was similar in their single-minded haste. Other than the growing clamour of battle, and the thumping of their feet, their ascent was totally silent. He could feel the tense focus in the air—the determination that flowed through his team, visible in set jaws and hard eyes.

“Alright—I’ve seen only a little of the house above, and even less of the courtyard, so our approach will be slightly less planned than normal.” Kaius started, breaking the silence.

“Do you at least know the way to the front door?” Porkchop questioned, his breath coming in heavy pants.

“Yes, thankfully. It’s barely a corridor away from the end of the stairs. Once we’re in the courtyard, we push hard, and we don’t stop for anything—I’d rather flee a fight we can win if it gets us out a few minutes faster.”

“I fear our leader may have been compromised—the Kaius I know would never run from a fight.” Ianmus wheezed. Of all of them, he had the worst physical statistics, and while the mage’s Magister’s Dash might have let him keep pace with the rest of them, it did little to help his exertion.

Kaius barked out a laugh. “Extenuating circumstances, my friend. Extenuating circumstances.”

Besides, from the hard clamour of steel and blending screams that bounced off the stairways’s stone walls, there would be plenty of battle to have—whether they liked it or not.

The chaos of the melee would make things easier in an ideal world, but he doubted that the reality of the situation would be so kind.

He could already see the path of blood they would have to lay—an ephemeral image that soothed the angst that surged at the thought of being unable to scour the whole compound clean.

“We’re going to rush to the north-east corner and scale the walls. If anyone is worried about not being able to run after we jump off, let me know before we get there. Porkchop, you stay close to Ianmus and Kenva—they’re going to be the worst off in a crush, and you can still open our path forward with your shardwalls.” Kaius said, explaining his plan of attack.

The quicker they could get out of the courtyard, the better. Even if the compound was under a full assault by an unknown horde of beasts, he doubted it was so bad that they would be worse off outside of the walls than within them.

With the poor quality of the men who manned this place, and their anaemic levels, he doubted the assault above was truely world-ending. If their strength was similar to the guards they had slain below, it would only take forty or fifty beasts with the strength of the bone biters they’d fought a few months ago to be a serious threat.

Undoubtedly dangerous, even to them, but not so much a threat that would be impossible for them to escape from.

Still, even if that was the case, they still had to fight their way through the defenders to get to that point.

“Kenva, you focus on counter-archery and mage killing. I want anyone who could hurt us from afar dead before they do so.” he continued.

“Easily done,” she replied, moving in lockstep behind him.

“Ianmus, priority is making sure we don’t die, otherwise help Kenva if you can.”

The mage let out a grunt of acknowledgement—more focused on keeping up with them than speaking.

With their plan set, they continued their ascent.

Rounding the next bend in the staircase, the deep red of the wardlights over them abruptly ended, replaced by a naturalistic yellow as the path out of the earth ended in a well decorated hall.

Kaius entered first, taking the lead as he ran past shelves of painted china and plaques of mounted antlers.

With his team close behind him, he took a sharp right, bursting into a foyer. A high ceiling towered above him, supported by stout oak beams. The room spilled over to his right, ending in a sitting room with a mezzanine above. To his left, a door half again taller than him was flanked by large panes of stained glass.

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Through them a battle raged, distorted by wavering glass and coloured hues—lit by the bright light of the full moon, and a dozen drenching wardlights. Men by the dozens fought shoulder to shoulder in messy squads—spread across a wide stone courtyard in disarray.

They fought desperately against what could only be described as an army of beasts, every specimen he identified at least level forty, with a few a decent bit stronger than that.

Even seeing a bare strip of the battlefield for no more than a few seconds, Kaius could already count nine different kinds of creatures. All of which had no business sieging what amounted to a fort, let alone working together in harmony.

Wolves, hamstringing men so that their chests could be skewered on the tines of a stag. Raptors diving in orchestrated strafing runs, leaving their targets unable to deal with the rodent-like beasts that sank yellow tinged teeth into soft bellies.

It was unnatural. Uncanny.

Worse, they were organised. This was no uncontrolled mob—the beasts covered for each other. Corralled squads away from their allies with silent precision—leaving them alone and defenceless for more to attack them from a flank.