Tenebris stood atop the ramparts, seemingly content to watch the battle unfold. The general’s presence unnerved Davon. He found himself hesitating, unsure whether to continue firing upon the gathered Crimson Reavers or keep his eyes on the massive beast.
Davon remembered his team’s fight with Tenebris all too well. Though they had grown stronger and more confident since then, Davon doubted it would be enough to match the monstrous general.
Then again, in that previous fight, Davon and his companions had been alone. Now they had an army at their back.
Steeling his resolve, Davon focused his attention on the Duke’s Road. Grant was pushing steadily into the city with the main Vanguard force. Most of the street leading up to the first set of barricades had been cleared, but Davon knew this was nothing to celebrate just yet. The Vanguard was steadily bleeding numbers. And while each fallen Revenant took a dozen Crimson Reavers with them, the losses stung.
Davon raised his bow. Invoking his Scattershot rune, he took careful aim towards the first street tower. Adrenaline coursed through him as he loosed his shot, slowing his perception of time.
Yet he didn’t waste a moment. Even while tracking the projectile, he drew back the bowstring again to prepare the next shot. By the time the first arrow split into fragments, he had another ready.
The pieces of his first shot sank into the back of a Crossbowman. The combined volley was enough to bring the heavily armored creature to their knees. Before the enemy could stand back up, Davon fired again. His follow-up shot struck one of the holes in the armor made by the Scattershot volley. The Crossbowman’s body fell into the street below, landing on top of another Crimson Reaver.
The sudden assault drew the attention of the soldiers waiting in towers further down the street. Realizing this at the last moment, Davon ducked behind the roof for cover.
Davon held his breath as the arrows and bolts flew over his head. His heart was racing in both anticipation and dread.
When would Tenebris join the fight? What terrifying abilities would the draconic general display?
Davon was returning his attention to the Duke’s Road when he caught a flash of movement in his periphery. He looked around, peering into the shadows where he thought he’d seen this movement, but found nothing out of the ordinary.
Convinced he was just becoming more paranoid, Davon was about to give up when he picked up on the movement again.
Only this time, it was headed directly for him.
Reacting at the last possible moment, Davon raised his bow to intercept whatever was coming. Sparks covered Davon’s torso as his bow’s limb clashed with a wicked-looking dagger.
When the movement ceased, Davon saw a menacing figure standing above him, clad in leather armor. Rather than a helmet, this foe had a veil covering the top half of their face. The only feature Davon could make out was a fanged grin.
Despite how many of them he’d killed, this was the first time Davon had seen any part of a Crimson Reaver’s face. Their helmets gave no hint of the visages hidden behind the twisted masks. Davon had always been glad for this. It allowed him to think of his enemies as the monsters they were, rather than sentient beings like himself.
Yet now, face-to-face with an unmasked Crimson Reaver, Davon knew he didn’t need the helmets. The thing standing over him was nothing but a monster. Its sharp features twisted as it snarled at him, revealing even sharper teeth.
Davon jabbed his knee into the Crimson Reaver’s chest, using the momentum to roll along the roof with his assailant. When they came to a stop, Davon was now on top, pressing the bladed edges of his bow against the enemy’s dagger.
The Crimson Reaver’s veil fell backwards, revealing the rest of their face. Their gaunt features were unusually proportioned. Two sunken crimson eyes stared back at Davon.
The Crimson Reaver gave a shrill shriek and drove its dagger upwards against the bow, trying to push Davon off. Davon didn’t even blink. He pressed down with all his strength, slowly pushing the enemy’s arms back down to its chest. Then, with a sudden movement, Davon slid the bow’s limbs upwards.
Caught beneath Davon’s weight, the Crimson Reaver couldn’t react in time. The sharp edge of Davon’s bow slashed the thing across the throat, leaving it limp on the roof. Seconds later, the skin of its face began to petrify. The sharp features crumbled and turned to ash, drifting away with the wind.
Davon shuddered. He had never seen that happen to a fallen Crimson Reaver before… then again, the enemies he’d killed always wore helmets that covered their features. Did all Crimson Reavers lose their faces when they died?
It made Davon think of the Necromancer, and of dead enemy soldiers twitching and shambling back to life. Then he remembered the petrified landscape the Vanguard had passed through on their way to Heinburg, and that sickening aroma of sulfur and rot that had marked his first encounter with the Crimson Reavers…
Suppressing another shudder, Davon closed his eyes.
How they die doesn’t matter, he reasoned firmly with himself. All that matters is that they’re dead.
Still shaken, Davon opened his eyes. The first things he saw were more of these veiled figures, leaping nimbly from rooftop to rooftop towards the Revenant archers.
“Ambush! On your guards!” Davon shouted immediately, grabbing the attention of the nearby Vanguard troops.
The rooftops of Heinburg quickly descended into chaos as each Revenant was beset by one of the dagger-wielding creatures.
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They’re like assassins… Davon thought, splitting his bow into blades. As fitting a name as any.
Davon Shadow-stepped to the nearest Vanguard member, who was currently locking blades with another Crimson Reaver Assassin.
As the Revenant struggled against her attacker, Davon used the opportunity to stick a blade sideways into the Assassin’s chest, pushing the enemy off of the Revenant and killing them in the same movement.
Suddenly pushing against nothing, the Vanguard member stumbled forward but caught herself before falling. Davon gave the Revenant a nod as he let the body of his enemy fall to the ground unceremoniously. Then he reattached his bow and raised it towards the next enemy.
Joined by the Revenant he saved, Davon loosed shot after shot into the backs of Crimson Reaver Assassins. But the enemy had moved with deadly speed. Even with the Vanguard’s swift retaliation, only seven Revenants were left standing when the last Assassin went down.
Davon gazed at the streams of blood covering the roof, his eyes lingering on the bodies of dead Revenants.
He knew most of the Vanguard archers were below with the main force. These losses weren’t crippling for the Revenants, strategically speaking. He knew even these slain Vanguard weren’t lost forever. Their bodies would soon crumble away and reform in the nearest Imbuement Chamber, ready to resurrect in a matter of weeks.
He knew all these things. Yet he could not stop the wave of sorrow that washed over him, nor could he keep another spike of rage from rooting in his heart, awakening his need for vengeance once again.
Davon swore a silent oath to avenge his fallen comrades. Then he tore his eyes away from the grisly scene and rushed back to the roof’s peak to rejoin the main fight.
Looking down from the roof, Davon saw Grant had brought the Vanguard’s main force up to the third section of barricades on the Duke’s Road. The Vanguard’s numbers had definitely thinned. Still, Davon managed a smile when he noticed Kai on the frontlines, mostly unharmed.
A group of the Vanguard’s Revenants had gathered some twenty feet behind the main force. Davon could tell at a glance that they were mages. Among them, he spotted Lyla quickly flipping through her spell book, her spear tucked under her arm.
Even further back, the remainder of the Vanguard’s archers were gathered on the walls, some of them slowly moving onto the nearby roofs. Davon breathed a sigh of relief as he realized that his formation would soon be reinforced by more bow-wielding Revenants.
As the battle lines continued moving forward, Grant’s voice suddenly rang out across the chaos: “Prepare the Godslayer!”
Davon’s mouth fell open. He stared at the strange cylindrical contraption being pushed through the city gates by a team of Revenants.
THAT’S the Godslayer?
He’d heard the stories all his life, ever since he was a child running along the docks of port Perle. Tales of how, eras ago, humanity grew tired of the old gods’ oppression. How a group of powerful mages had created enchanted ‘Godslayer’ weapons to rid the world of the old gods and their tyrannical rule.
A strange doubt crept its way into Davon’s mind as the stories flooded back to him. Humanity’s conquest against the gods was a long and bloody one, in which death and innovation worked hand in hand.
Supposedly, the Godslayer engine had been constructed and used successfully against the God of Strife, killing him in a single shot. From the dead god’s bones, humanity had crafted the first Reliquaries, which were now wielded by the Emperor’s Hand. The rest of the gods had been slaughtered using selective use of the Godslayer engine, as well as in direct combat with the first Revenants.
Davon had always thought those were just stories, meant to teach children about humility. The tales were reminders that even the greatest of creatures can be brought low. He didn’t even know the names of most of the old gods. For as long as he could remember, people had prayed only to Wind, Brine, and Sun.
But if that rune-covered machine really was a Godslayer… maybe all those stories were true.
The Godslayer engine edged forward, flanked by Vanguard mages. Davon also spotted Emma following closely behind the contraption. She held a longsword in each hand. Her bow was on her back, many runes lit up along its surface.
“Prime the weapon, but hold fire until my mark! Vanguard, keep pushing!” Grant commanded, shouting in between swings of his giant sword.
So this was the ‘tool’ Grant had mentioned, the one supposedly able to deal with Tenebris. Davon tried to resist the strange doubt still lurking in the back of his mind. If the enchanted war machine was capable of wounding gods, then it was sure to make short work of Tenebris.
Then again, the gods had died so long ago…
The first Revenants were capable of killing the gods shortly after binding to their Reliquaries, Davon mused, his heart sinking. Were those first Reliquaries really all that special? Or were the gods just not as powerful as you’d think?
To make things more complicated, the old stories spoke of the Godslayer engine as a weapon which could only be used sparingly, as it took days to recharge. Tenebris was a fast target. The possibility of missing that crucial shot was all too real.
Davon raised his weapon and readied a shot, pushing down the doubts and anxiety. He would find out how effective the Godslayer was when Grant gave the order to fire. There was no point to thinking himself in circles before then.
Heh… Davon smiled to himself. Thinking myself in circles… thanks, Kai.
Testing the mental link with his Reliquary for any fraying, Davon pulled on his Scattershot rune. He fired three empowered shots towards the mass of enemies gathered in front of the Vanguard.
As his projectiles rained havoc upon the enemy lines, Davon felt his connection to his Reliquary was still holding strong, but a feeling of fatigue did steal across his mind. He switched to normal shots and continued firing.
Better to save my strength for when the big bastard joins the fight, he reasoned, adjusting his aim towards the more valuable targets.
Then guttural laughter shook the ground, forcing Davon to stop firing and focus on staying upright.
“Do you think assaulting my domain is so simple, dead fools?” Tenebris mocked from his perch.
The general reared up on his hind legs, standing to his full height before unleashing an ear-splitting roar.
Davon closed his eyes and covered his ears, overwhelmed by the sudden outburst of noise from the general. The roar continued for a solid ten seconds. Halfway through it, Davon looked up at the battlefield, pushing through the pain.
He could see from the roof that the majority of the Vanguard was also stunned by the noise, but the Crimson Reavers were not. No, the enemy seemed to be invigorated by the display.
Tenebris finally fell silent. The sun grew dim, coating the world in an ever more ominous shade of red. Even from his position on the roof, Davon could see that the Crimson Reavers’ eyes glowing more intensely behind their helmets.
As Tenebris settled back into his perch, the Crimson Reaver army began to chant. They slammed their weapons against their chests in rhythm with their voices. Then, in unison, the Crimson Reavers began pushing back against the Vanguard.
Through a terrifying display of sheer power, the Crimson Reavers surged forward, shrugging off attacks that had been deadly to them moments before. The enemy continued advancing in rhythm: step, stab, step, stab.
Slowly, inexorably, the Vanguard was driven back along the Duke’s Road. Several Revenants fell to the sudden assault before Grant thrust his great sword into the ground, conjuring a massive golden barrier that covered the street from edge to edge.
The Crimson Reavers halted. Their red eyes burned through the slits in their helmets as they waited, leering at the Revenants through the golden barrier.
Davon looked desperately down at Grant. The battle had turned so suddenly, he felt for a moment like the ground was still shaking under his feet. A single question sounded over and over in his mind, pulsing in rhythm with the Crimson Reavers’ ongoing chant:
What now?