Chapter 610 – Self Harm.

“Young Lord, is this wise?”

“Be silent and tend to my father.”

A man with blue hair gave the order to an armored guard. Around them, several people were being carried, not by human hands but by beings of pure water energy. These spirits moved in perfect unison, reshaping themselves into cradles and supports beneath those affected by the occult relics.

The great hall shimmered with an aquatic glow as the spirits carried everyone toward the wide doors at the far end. The massive gates stood partly open, and beyond them a towering man carried another draped over his shoulder. He showed no interest in the others being rescued and continued deeper inside, intent on protecting himself and the man he bore.

“You will answer for this, brother. All of this is your fault.”

An aquatic spirit halted before two figures. One was Ivan Valerian, who would surely be blamed for the disaster. His brother Tybalt gestured sharply, ordering the spirit to carry Ivan to safety, along with their spiteful mother. He felt no affection for either of them, yet he couldn’t allow them to die here without taking the blame.

“My Lord, an enemy!”

The guard’s warning rang out as a creature emerged in the distance. Tybalt knew the cultists had ignored them for some time, ignoring the ones inside the illusion. Yet he also knew that could not last. He had been guiding people to safety long enough that it was inevitable they would eventually be targeted.

He thrust out his hand, lips moving with incredible speed. Dozens of spheres of water appeared above his head, swirling together and compressing with violent force before bursting into streams of razor sharp projectiles. The monster’s flesh split under the barrage, forcing it to retreat, but more soon emerged to take its place.

“That will do. You should retreat as well.”

The voice echoed from above, and Tybalt’s brow furrowed in indignation.

“I will not forget this disgrace.”

“The people you saved today will remember your deeds, my lord, and repay you in time.”

The fourth brother made a sweeping gesture toward the great construct hovering in the air. He had planned only to save his mother and a few members of the court, but the flying golem had forced his hand. Now his efforts extended even to Ivan, whose folly had begun this strange calamity.

Nevertheless, the man to whom the golemic construct belonged could render the bracelets useless at any moment. For now, he knew he had no choice but to follow his orders. The man had promised him potential rewards from a prominent institute within the royalist faction’s lands, an offer that was difficult to refuse. Even so, he could not suppress the indignation he felt at the way he was treated. As a potential candidate for a dukedom, taking orders from those beneath him filled him with deep discomfort.

*****

“Suit integrity at risk.”

“Warning.”

“Critical damage to leg joints detected.”

Red alerts flashed across his HUD before vanishing as he dismissed them. His focus returned to the monsters charging toward him. Dozens of abominations filled the courtyard, some barely reaching his chest, others grotesquely fused into multi-limbed horrors, with several even reaching tier-three status.

The devices meant to prevent their fusion were overwhelmed by sheer numbers, and some of the remaining abyssal cultists were twisting the process further. They fused the creatures with their insect forms for a temporary surge of strength, hurling themselves at him in a frenzy.

Their shrieks mingled with the sound of golems shattering and flesh being torn apart. Time and again, he restored his creations, only for them to be destroyed once more. Stationed at the center of the courtyard, he was surrounded, and the temporary fortress he had raised with earth magic was crumbling.

Worse still, the horde seemed endless, growing larger with each passing moment.He cast a glance toward the watchtowers. Arthur’s progress had stalled, and despite defending for more than ten minutes, they had yet to push beyond the fourth tower.

‘At least Tybalt managed to get the other nobles in.’

At this moment, the massive doors leading into the inner palace were under siege by a horde of abyssal creatures. The attack showed no signs of slowing, and the courtyard was crawling with monstrosities. Even so, most of the horde and its leader, the strange witch, were focused on him.

The witch lingered at a distance, watching and waiting, as if certain that no outside aid could reach them. Roland kept wondering what those beyond the palace walls intended. If this was meant to be a trap, it had already failed.

The only explanation was that they did not understand how the relics functioned or how to disable them. He had once helped the church with that task, but the knowledge had clearly not spread. For now, he could only rely on himself. Yet his plan required outside support, because there was no way he could face this horde alone.

“Ugh…”

A grunt escaped his mouth as he looked down. A sharp appendage had pierced through his armor and sunk deep into his thigh. Instantly, he yanked out the writhing limb and cast a focused divine spell to prevent the wound from being poisoned or cursed.

Even though he had been using divine attacks, the monsters showed no signs of slowing. Divine mana was usually a direct counter to undead creatures, but these were different. The energy burned away the small worms that nested in people’s heads, yet these monsters carried some kind of built-in protection. Even if he cast several holy-aligned spells, the results would be disappointing, and to make matters worse, his main enemy was still watching.

“Why do you resist? Soon you will join us in the everlasting dream with our lord. Just let it happen.”

The witch no longer looked the same. She had fused with several of her minions. Her legs were rooted in the ground, and she no longer moved. She had become a grotesque hub, linking monsters and cultists together. Their movements grew more coordinated, and they stopped charging from only one direction. Slowly, the entire palace was being overtaken, and if he did not act soon, Arthur and the others would be overwhelmed. Their mission to destroy the relics would fail.

‘It is too early to go all out, but I have no choice. At least she had lost some reasoning and is still targeting me, can’t let this chance slip.’

The opponent he faced was clearly not acting with much strategy. If it had been him, he would have focused on the smaller group trying to reach the relics rather than on the obvious distraction he was creating. Fortunately, the witch was blinded by her rage and kept her attention fixed on him. Unfortunately, that also placed him in grave danger. If he could not hold out and fell, his allies would be the next to be targeted.

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He knew this fight would become a battle of endurance, though he had no idea how long he could hold. His aura shifted, a reddish energy spreading around his body before blending with a bluish tint to form a deep violet hue. His power surged outward, and the nearby golems were invigorated.

The battle soon became a grueling slog. With maces in hand, he swung again and again, each strike launching multiple monsters into the air with sheer force. The pressure of his swings created bursts of wind, and his armored plates deflected most incoming attacks.

Some creatures warped into twisted fusions of flesh, spewing bones and corrosive projectiles at him. Layers of mana shields and protective mantles absorbed much of the damage, but not all. Bit by bit, his body took the punishment. The swarm closed in from every direction, and his weapons began to falter.

The golems he had been using to communicate with his allies, along with the ones relaying images from above, were called down to fight at his side. Even they were needed now, unleashing volleys of mana bolts and projectiles upon the enemy. The battle grew more grotesque by the moment, yet he pressed on. Whenever his mana ran low, he drew on potion casings hidden within his armor, but soon his strength began to waver.

The aura around his body dimmed, and the purple glow faded. He tried to raise the earth to shelter himself behind rocky walls, but the enemies had already entrenched themselves. Relentless, gory projectiles slowly whittled down his defenses and pushed him back.