Chapter 95 – Defeated?

“The sacrifices are running away, stop them!”

“Kill everyone, slaughter them before they escape into the city.”

Rusty sprinted up the stairs as fast as his metallic body allowed him to. He could hear shouts and screams coming from above. The clamor of cultists and the pounding of boots above echoed down the spiraling stairway as Rusty charged upward. The chaos behind him spurred him to move faster, though his metallic joints strained under the pressure. Gleam clung to his back instead of his shoulder while trying to regain her mana for the battle ahead.

He had left the terrifying cultist high priest behind and was now attempting to free himself. His goal had never been to rescue these people or to oppose the strange cultists. Some of the people here seemed to have misunderstood his motives, but it wasn’t worth the effort to correct them. What he needed to do was escape this hell hole and leave the city overrun by humanoid creatures. Rusty just wanted to finally enjoy his freedom – something he couldn’t truly accomplish while his friend Gleam had been captured.

“( ó﹏ò )”

“Sorry, Gleam. I don’t have any more mana potions on me. Just rest for now; I’ll get us both out of here.”

After reassuring his partner, he noticed a faint light shining from above. The exit was there, and he wouldn’t let anyone stand in his way. During his trek up he had passed many of the injured prisoners, one of them being the priest. She had stopped climbing and instead started healing the people who were unable to ascend further.

Rusty did not stop or even glance her way and instead kept his own well-being in mind. As he finnaly approached the exit he heard a person scream. A man who had been given one of his weapons had just been stabbed through his chest. He was in the process of being pushed down the secret exit but Rusty was right behind him.

He threw his polearm, making it fly past the stabbed man’s shoulder and right between the eyes of the cult member that had just stabbed him. The polearm struck true, embedding itself deep into the skull of the cultist. The figure crumpled like a marionette with its strings cut, the force of the impact sending it sprawling backward. The wounded man, now free from the immediate threat, slumped against the stairwell wall, blood pooling at his feet. Rusty didn’t spare him a second glance. He had no time to stop, no time to help.

Gleam, still clinging to Rusty’s back, glanced at the dead man for a moment. Her antennae wiggled briefly, but she lacked the mana for another healing spell. Without his healbard, Rusty switched to his sword and shield once more. Lowering his center of gravity, he activated a skill to increase his weight and charged forward. Another cultist stood in his path, but the man’s dagger merely bounced off Rusty’s metallic form as he barreled past and charged outside.

They finally emerged above ground, finding themselves in a seemingly deserted building that had been taken over by these strange people. However, after the secret exit mechanism had been triggered, more cultists appeared than they had encountered previously. Rusty had feigned death while being transported to this place, and Gleam had slipped past unnoticed. Neither of them had seen this many guards earlier, which suggested reinforcements had come from elsewhere. Even more might have been on their way so they needed to leave now.

‘It seems they don’t want this place to be discovered. It’s probably going to be hard to get out of here… And what is that? They’ve kindly put up a lovely silencing barrier around the whole place, why isn’t that grand?’

Aburdon called out to Rusty in a somewhat mocking tone. The demon lord had always opposed the plan to rescue the other prisoners, and now he was gloating over the apparent failure. The silencing barrier shimmered faintly, barely visible to Rusty thanks to his mana-sensing skill. He had hoped that, once above ground, it would be easy to escape. Even though it was still nighttime, his plan had relied on chaos – prisoners shouting and running would have forced the city guards to intervene. Now, however, things looked grim. More cultists had gathered in the area, some wearing heavy armor, while others were armed with bows, loosing arrows in Rusty’s direction.

“Gleam, stay on my back!”

“(＞﹏＜)”

He raised his shield to protect his head as several arrows flew toward him. Most bounced harmlessly off his armor, but a few left scratches and even small dents. He had already burned through many of his metal reserves and was running low on sp. Switching to other loadouts and repairing himself would soon not be possible.

The cultists appeared from all sides, some charging at him with spears others shooting arrows. It was quite difficult to progress forward, his back against the entrance in an attempt to shield Gleam from harm. After identifying the archers and bouncing a few arrows back he decided to sprint forward. To his dismay he was intercepted by two armored men, both holding large tower shields that he couldn’t push against.

It reminded him of the adventurers, where the heavily armored warriors would keep monsters at bay while the archers pelted them from a distance. That’s exactly what the cultists were doing to him – shield-bearers advancing in unison, using their bulk to push him back, while the archers continued to rain arrows on his body. Slowly, the damage started to accumulate and he needed to do something. He glanced to the sides. If he ran now, there was a high chance Gleam would get hit, something he was trying to avoid.

‘Should I switch out and make a break for it?’

He wondered if he should use SP for a last-effort loadout change. In his larger form, he could let Gleam enter his body, where she would be relatively safe. However, there were people behind him. If he did that, it would be obvious he was a monster, and he could end up being hunted by both sides.

“Kill them all, use the fire bombs!”

Before he could decide, one of the cultists shouted from the side. In his hand, he held a vial containing a red liquid. Rusty had been in this city long enough to know exactly what it was – and what would happen if he was hit by it. If that potion struck him, Gleam would be in serious trouble. However, Rusty wasn’t truly alone in this struggle. Despite Aburdon’s complaints about the plan, he had still managed to gather some allies through it.

An arrow shot out from behind him, striking the cultist’s wrist just as he was about to throw the fire potion. The vial slipped from the man’s grasp, shattering on the ground and setting the cultist on fire. Layla had finally climbed up and joined the fight. She wasn’t alone, either – four more armed allies emerged through the opening, with the elven healer close behind them. Their wounds were mostly healed now, and they were ready for battle.

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“Bastards! Die!”

The cultists surged forward as chaos erupted, but Rusty stood firm, heartened by the reinforcements at his side. The clash above ground escalated into a chaotic melee. Layla, alongside the newly armed and reinvigorated prisoners, fought ferociously. Her arrows flew with pinpoint accuracy, injuring cultists from a distance. Meanwhile, the others, wielding weapons forged by Rusty, charged into the fray with desperation and fury.