Chapter 76
In the left hand, a spiked shield; in the right, the Axe of Khargan; and before me, a formation of Druchii Spearmen led by an Acolyte of Khaine. Somewhere, we have been through this before...
Only now, there were noticeably more enemies.
Having received the warning from the junkie elf, we attempted to leave the hideout, but the Khainites proved more nimble. We were forced to take up a defensive position in a relatively narrow corridor leading from the courtyard of the abandoned house to the street. The passage was about four meters wide. On both sides were cracked walls, meeting overhead to form an arch. There were pillar-like protrusions here, behind which one could easily take cover from missile fire. Furthermore, we had placed Bone-Grinder's cage across the corridor as a barricade.
The Shades and the Skink lurked behind us. There were several specialized positions for shooters there—elevated platforms with embrasures. It remained to be hoped that the outcasts were not trying to betray us right now and would not shoot us in the back. However, it was unlikely that the Shades were already in collusion with the Khainites. Otherwise, they would have simply let them into the hideout quietly.
"Step, step!" the Acolyte of Khaine commanded from behind the Druchii formation.
The first row was occupied by five spearmen with shields. Behind their backs loomed grim-looking halberds. Now that was bad. Fighting against a formation with a bunch of polearms is a dubious pleasure. If they acted in coordination, even our outstanding stats could be beaten by teamwork. However, we had another trump card in reserve.
"Go!" I commanded in the language of the Lizardmen.
And this time, it was not a command to activate the Dawi-Zharr dagger. I addressed my command to a more living reptilian. Bone-Grinder raised a boulder weighing about twenty kilograms high above himself and hurled it forward. The projectile, roughly the size of a basketball, fell right into the middle of the enemy formation. The Druchii tried to recoil, but the rear ranks prevented the front ones from retreating. The boulder struck one of the shields. A wail rang out. I am certain that the crunch of bones sounded as well, but I simply did not hear it over the general noise.
The enemy formation wavered. The wall of shields lost its integrity. Our shooters took advantage of this immediately. Two volleys from repeater crossbows, one after the other, took flight. Additionally, Tezal threw a small stone, though it did not affect the situation. But the Shades hit their mark. It was good that the outcasts were of some use and knew how to do more than just interfere with an honest "Chaosite's" sleep.
It was hard to say how many enemies caught the bolts. One spearman remained lying there, while the others retreated. The first onslaught was repelled exclusively with the help of ranged weapons. Good! It was just a pity that the enemies suffered too far away from me. I received only meager drops for my blood chalice. The opponents, however, were lucky with magical buffs.
"Rally! To me!" the voice of the Acolyte of Khaine rang out from behind the infantry.
A scarlet-crimson shimmer spread over the enemy formation. The wounded infantrymen came to their senses. They closed their shields again, taking the third volley from the Shades upon them.
Of course, I could have used the Ash Whip to break their formation, but I did not want to reveal a trump card so early. I did not know how much total strength the enemy had.
"Step, step!" the Acolyte commanded again.
The dark ones pressed forward more actively than before. The corpse of their comrade stretched out in the middle of the passage did not bother them. Spears and halberds polished to a shine threatened us with death.
Unfortunately, we had only managed to find one large stone. From here on, we would have to fight back with other means.
I stood to the left of Bone-Grinder, Liandra to the right. The Kroxigor's cage lay before him. In this format, we met the enemy onslaught.
Unlike Chaosites or Orcs, the Druchii did not start stupidly crushing us with mass even under buffs from a warrior-priest. They immediately tried to pierce me twice with spears and hit me with a halberds to boot. I had to retreat, knocking away enemy weapons with my shield. One of the spears caught me on the left forearm. The wound was not serious, but I would lose some blood.
"Bone-Grinder! Cage!" I shouted.
The Kroxigor, who had already managed to get hit in the snout with a halberd, grabbed his former dungeon with both paws and raised it in front of him.
"Side to side!" I continued to instruct the little crocodile.
The Kroxigor began swinging the cage from side to side, knocking away enemy weapons and preventing the opponent from actively working on us. On the other hand, the Shades began to work. Being on the heights in the rear, they could find gaps in the enemy formation. High-speed repeater crossbows allowed them not to spare the bolts. In three volleys, they managed to wound two opponents and put down another.
The enemy formation retreated. Now I managed to gain a bit of energy. Nearly the full first segment of the blood chalice. Well, at least something. The next onslaught would be easier to repel, but the enemies were in no hurry with it. The formation of dark ones pulled back from the corridor, disappearing around the corner. That was actually bad. Better they storm us than try to take us by attrition.
"Tezal said we could try to leave via the underground river," I said to Liandra in Norscan.
"The water there is cold and dangerous creatures dwell within it," the elf replied. "The risk is very great."
And Bone-Grinder does not fit in there yet. Theoretically, we could widen the passage by breaking an ancient elven toilet, but how long would that take?
The enemies were in no hurry, and I had to absorb the accumulated energy so it wouldn't start leaking away. I healed the wound on my arm before I lost too much blood.
"Can you send your small lizard to study the underground river?" Liandra asked. "His combat skills are not impressive, but he would be useful as a scout."
"Good. I will order him now..."
I did not have time to finish. Liandra unexpectedly gave a gesture for silence. I went quiet. Judging by the expression on her face, the elf was clearly listening to something.
The leader of the outcasts left his shooting position and came out to us with a question:
"Your allies, mistress?" he uttered in a barely audible whisper. "Or new enemies?"
"We will go and find out now. Everyone gather. We are going for a breakthrough."
A breakthrough? Excellent! We will break through everywhere! Only, what prompted Liandra to change our tactics so sharply. I inquired and received this answer:
"Someone has struck the Khainites in the rear. While they are locked in combat, we have a chance to get away. Forward."
I called the lizards over, and the composite squad went for a breakthrough. Liandra, Bone-Grinder, and I were the vanguard. The Shades glided along behind.
As soon as we passed the corridor, I too heard the sounds of battle. Screams, death rattles, the ring of steel, and a dry whistling. They were hacking away properly there.
No sooner had we turned the corner than a picture of a real slaughterhouse spread out ahead. A furious mutual extermination had broken out between two detachments of Druchii at a street crossroads.
On one side were the acolytes and their mercenaries we already knew, and the second side of the conflict was a detachment containing a significant amount of not-entirely-clothed white-haired women. Witch Elves.
I see. The Khainites had been struck in the rear by other Khainites. The favorite Druchii pastime had begun—internecine slaughter.
It seemed the witches were also interested in my abilities. And they had no intention of handing over a special beast, possibly sent by Khaine himself, to a competing firm.
The half-naked brides of the god with the bloody hands moved like blurred silhouettes. Going into battle having a bikini instead of armor and using daggers and short blades as weapons? Ridiculous! However, for the witches, it suddenly worked due to incredible reflexes.
While their heavy-armed mercenaries with shields tanked, the white-haired vixens ducked under enemy spears and, suddenly appearing almost in the enemy's rear, slit throats.
However, the battle could not be called one-sided. The Acolytes of Khaine responded to their competitors for the cruel god's attention with battle magic, and also healed even extremely heavy wounds of their allies. The mechanism of such regeneration was similar to my healing from the blood chalice. Even visually, it looked the same.
The acolytes' magic allowed their detachment to stand firm, withstanding the furious attack of the Brides of Khaine.
More than a hundred dark ones participated in the melee on each side. A real street war!
"There!" Liandra pointed her sword to the left.
Only a few confused mercenaries and shooters remained there. It was entirely realistic to break through.
We rushed there, meeting poorly organized resistance along the way. The warrior-priests were occupied with the witches. Without leadership, the mercenaries were not eager to spill their blood.
Three swordsmen with shields and one spearman blocked our path. Liandra immediately took out the latter. She knocked his spear away with the flat of her blade and delivered a breathtaking overhead diagonal strike behind the shield. A precisely measured attack opened the opponent's throat.
During this time, I bypassed the swordsmen, forcing them to stretch out their already small formation. However, I didn't even have to fight them. When Bone-Grinder pressed onto them with his cage, the mercenaries sharply realized they weren't being paid enough for this. The swordsmen fled. I managed to hack one of them in the shoulder from behind. This did not kill the enemy but allowed me to gain a bit of energy.
While we were mincing the infantry, the Shades finished off three enemy crossbowmen. The outcasts clearly shot more accurately than the city Druchii.
"Forward!" Liandra again pointed her sword in the direction of the squad's movement.
We had almost left the place of the brawl, and then...
Clang!
Liandra barely managed to deflect a throwing knife with the flat of her sword.
"Roof!" the leader of the outcasts pointed.
A silhouette flickered there at a height of several meters. A moment later, as if from nowhere, another knife flew in, which Liandra did not block as well. The projectile bounced off the flat of the blade, scratching the girl's face.
Liandra immediately pulled out some vial with her left hand and splashed a black viscous compound onto the scratch from it. An antidote.
"We're leaving," the elf commanded, trying to keep an eye on the roofs. "We can do nothing to them here."
"To whom?" I asked, following the girl.
"Khainite Assassins."
Damn. We are downright drawing all the military elite of the dark society to us. Who will be next? Medusae? Hydras? Chariots with...
Oh, I shouldn't have jinxed it!
Noise, heavy thumping, and a low growl rang out. An entire procession of Cold One Knights appeared from around the corner. Dark ones encased in heavy armor riding carnivorous lizards. It is useless to tell these reptiles about the Great Plan. Stupid, vicious creatures ready to devour everyone except their masters.
There were several dozen Cold One Knights, and they moved in three rows. A real steamroller of metal, claws, and blades. Even their monstrous mounts were partially covered by armor. Fighting against such a force now was sheer suicide. Maybe Liandra and I would take a few with us, but the rest would simply tear us apart.
However, the Cold One Knights did not try to attack. They began to ride around us, taking us in a circle. Turning around, I noticed several dozen more dinosaur cavalrymen who were wedging themselves between the fighting Khainites. They did not try to actively attack either, but they threatened with spears and fended off especially zealous fanatics of the bloody god with maces.
Liandra raised her sword again to deflect a thrown throwing knife, but the projectile flared up in the air and dived down onto the pavement as a drop of red-hot metal. A fire prism began to swirl around us at a height of two and a half meters. A hemisphere of churning fire. Simultaneously, a female voice, amplified by magic, rang out:
"In the name of Venil Coldblade! Stop the bloodshed!"
Another not-especially-clothed woman appeared on the roof of an abandoned house, accompanied by several shooters and warriors, but her hair was darker than the witches', and in her hands, besides a sword, she held a long staff. A Sorceress. There could be no doubt.
"In the name of Dreadlord Venil, Drachau of Clar Karond, stop the fight!"
Many mercenaries on both sides had already stopped fighting, but as for the Khainites... one might as well have tried to exhort clutched bulldogs. More decisive measures were required. Then the sorceress began to weave charms. I had already seen a similar spell once performed by the young shaman Hel, but now I was observing a repeatedly amplified version of this magic.
In the skies above us, the Amber Wind of Ghyran—Ghur, the Wind of Beasts—flared up like stars. Magical sparks gathered together, turning into large, semi-ghostly ravens. The eerie birds rushed down. They did not try to cause the elves too much harm, but with claws and beaks, they began to tear at the combatants. There were several hundred birds. They literally swarmed over some of the witches from all sides. The Brides of Khaine, forgetting about their enemies, were forced to fight off the annoying ravens. The birds clung to their hair, pinched them, and beat them with wings. The witches' blades easily cut through the ravens. They dissipated into sparks of the wind of magic and gathered again.
Eventually, the battle subsided and the sorceress dispelled her ravens.
"In the name of Venil Coldblade! Stop the bloodshed!" the sorceress repeated.
I noticed that she had a slight lisp, or maybe it was such a specific accent.
"You will answer for your treachery, Alissa!" the hoarse voice of one of the witches rang out, pointing a dagger toward the sorceress. "Hekarti will not protect you from the wrath of Khaine!"
"Treachery!?" The sorceress pretended to be deeply surprised and offended. "I am carrying out the will of my Dreadlord and your Drachau, to whom we all swore an oath! What treachery are you talking about?"
"Enough arguing, women!" shouted what was likely the commander of the Cold One Knights. "We are taking the troublemakers to the Tower of Doom. Lord Venil will decide their fate and end your bickering!"
Oh, wonderful... Long live the Druchii court! The most humane court in the world!
The riders on Cold Ones who had taken us in a circle began to move. And we had to as well.
So the knights had been sent by the local Dreadlord. They acted in the role of mounted police dispersing an unauthorized rally.
We walked through the streets of Clar Karond accompanied by the knights. We processed from the poor streets where we had set up our hideout in the dungeon to the wide avenues of the richest quarters. From all sides, the curious gazes of many eyes were turned upon us.
"How bad is it?" I asked Liandra in Norscan.
"We will find out soon."
The walls of the citadel appeared ahead, the central tower of which felt comparable to the skyscrapers of Moscow City. Or maybe I have simply grown unaccustomed to truly tall buildings. The Tower of Doom was even more impressive than the palace complex of Nuln. At the top of the grandiose Druchii citadel, sorcerous fires burned purple. A numerous guard of swordsmen and spearmen in the red colors of the city stood at the gates. Every aristocratic family, temple, or guild in Clar Karond maintained an armed detachment, but the Drachau of the city had a real army at his disposal. Constant skirmishes are the norm of life for the dark ones. Contract killings? A classic of political intrigue. However, after my appearance in the city, full-scale street battles began between two major religious organizations. The Dreadlord here was not going to tolerate such a thing. The mass death of taxpayers and potential recruits is not at all what any ruler wants.
The gates of the citadel swung open. We entered first into the inner courtyard of the Tower of Doom, and then we began to climb toward the building itself via a giant staircase.
Some of the Cold One Knights dismounted, accompanying us. Guards and shooters also joined our escort. I wonder, is this a guard of honor or an escort for especially dangerous criminals? I would bet on the latter.
The doors of the tower, nearly twice my height, swung open. We entered a spacious hall where two rows of columns supported a vaulted ceiling.
"You..." the commander of the knights pointed to Liandra. "Come with us. Lord Venil wishes to speak with you. Keep the others here. If they resist—kill them, but not the human. He is ordered to be kept alive even at the cost of your own blood."
And again, how pleasant it is to feel one's significance, realizing that this crowd of sadistic cutthroats values my life!
Liandra left following the commander of the knights, nodding to me one last time. I remained in the great hall together with the reptilians and the Shades.
"You should have agreed to my offer, Jurg Goblo-Eater," Jinx smirked, addressing me in the language of the Hung. "Did your blue god not whisper the right choice to you? We would have skipped out of the city by now, but now the worst has happened: our lives are in the hands of noble degenerates."