B2 – Chapter 10: Sympathetic Incursion – Demon Realm

Spinning his essence crucible as fast as he could, Tristan slammed his fist into the ground. “Ich beschwöre eine Wand aus Eis herauf.” (I summon forth a wall of ice). He saw the ice begin to grow and pushed his essence down his channel as hard as he could. The sparks of crimson, gold, black, and icy-blue cascaded along the silver torrent and he began to feel winded as the wall grew to cover the whole space, and then he focused on thickening it.

The Archon stood just behind him, and Tristan heard him speaking in Heaven’s Voice, which he did not know, so instead of trying to pay attention to what the Archon was doing, Tristan focused on the threats beyond the ice wall. And to his shock and growing dread, the rift expanded horizontally.

Letting the spell fade, he pushed the essence that was going down his channels into his armor and weapon. The suit of segmented plate and chainmail grew to encompass his whole form as the helmet rose up to cover him fully in the protective shell. The weapon in his grip expanded and grew in length, and he raised his voice. “Felicity! Vie hevoset pois!” (Incoming! Felicity! Get the horses far away!).

He could barely hear her distant response. “Sain sen!” (Got it!).

The Archon’s voice was completely drowned out by overlapping shrieking and howls from beyond the rift. The cloud of demon bats drew closer, and Tristan got his first good look at the creatures from the front. They looked like usual bats, but their wingspan varied from five feet from tip to tip, all the way out to twenty feet.

Then, as he tracked the mob, he saw a pack of wolf-like creatures with slavering mouths that were lined with crooked, crimson teeth that sizzled with a black smoke that dripped from them.

“Archon! Hurry up!” Tristan shouted as he glanced back at the man.

The man gave Tristan a hard look but said nothing outside of continuing his chant. He did begin backing off to the gate, and Tristan shook his head as the man retreated. These people might not be my people, Tristan thought, – but if I can help, I have to try. It’s what grandfather would try and do.

“The very weapons you use to rend and tear are mine to use,” he whispered, and his hands shifted and warped into draconic claws. He used those to clamber up the ice wall until he was standing atop it. The tide of demon bats and wolves was almost upon him, and he pushed his essence into the king’s favor around his neck. “Arrêt!” (stop!), he shouted out.

As one, the wolves and bats ceased moving – holding still in place. Tristan felt his essence dwindling, and knew the command would only last for a short time. He jumped off the ten-foot-high wall, rolled to his feet, and ran to join the Archon at the gate. It began to shut, and he slipped inside before it closed entirely.

Tristan clambered up the ladder nearby, and figured his Disguise Form spell had faded based upon the gasps he heard. Ignoring those, he pointed his sword, “They will come through soon! Call everyone to arms! Get everyone else inside and barricade the entrances!”

A large man in ill-fitting armor stomped over, “Who’re you to order us-”

Tristan turned and glowered at the man, “Listen to me or die; I’ll survive no matter what happens.” He turned to face the oncoming horde, “Get in position! Archers, eyes on the skies – everyone else, spears! These walls stand no chance of holding if we don’t kill them as they come up!”

The man behind him huffed and walked away. Tristan focused his whole attention on the rift that was now easily fifty feet across and just as tall. He could see a shadowy, humanoid shape behind the wolves, and it shouted a command in Demon’s Tongue. “En avant, mes sbires ! Nous prenons le Royaume des Mortels pour Duberceix!” (Forward, minions! We take the Mortal Realm for Duberceix!).

As one, the bats stopped their flapping and rushed through the rift, and the wolves surged forward – around the ice wall like it was a rock in the middle of a river. “Archers!” Tristan shouted, “Fire at will!”

They began loosing crossbow bolts, but Tristan could not focus on the skies as he saw the rush of the wolf creatures approaching. His blade with its extra length thanks to the artificed spell would be the equivalent of a spear for stabbing purposes, and he stood at the top of the wall as he spun his essence crucible to keep fueling his two items. The smoke-filled air of the Demon Realm began to ooze outward as the massive humanoid stalked towards the rift. Easily twenty feet tall, ten feet wide at the shoulders, and dressed in deep, black plate armor.

Tristan had no idea what it was, and he could not focus on it as he tore his attention away and towards the wolves that began to run at the wall, tilt and jump, and ran slightly up into waiting spear points. Tristan joined the stationed soldiers that were stabbing down, but the wolves started to pile on top of each other, and he could let out sweeping slashes instead of stabs to hit multiple foes at once.

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He felt a rush of wind near his head and ducked down as a demon bat tried to swoop at him. The movement forced him to step away from the edge of the wall, and he was able to take stock of the situation for a moment. Guards were holding the wall against the dumb creatures, but the numbers were vast, and he knew they would be overwhelmed. Glancing down, he saw the Archon still muttering and waving his hands in complicated gestures.

Tristan made eye contact with the man and knew that he had to buy more time. If there’s one thing that could save us from this tide, he thought as the wolves began to crest the wall en-masse and the guards were forced to swap to swords, I can issue a challenge.