Dromos 7, Imperial Year 1645
The Secondary Workshop – The Testing Chamber
The possessed bear lay in its reinforced cage, sedated but alive. Its eyes glowed faintly green, even in sleep. The corruption had spread – black veins visible beneath its matted fur.
Vlad stood before the cage, a table of blades beside him. Knights gathered in a semicircle – Hound, Sparrow, Titan, Hammer, Wall, Lynx, Rook, Phantom, Striker, Kithri, and others. Aldric stood at the back, ready to tend to the bear if needed.
"We need to understand what can hurt these creatures," Vlad said. "Not just kill them – harm them in a way that matters. The great demon shrugged off a 20mm cannon. Lesser spawn die to steel, but the possessed… we don't know."
He picked up the first blade – a standard steel longsword, forged in the workshop.
"Steel."
He approached the cage. The bear did not stir. Vlad pressed the blade against its flank and drew a shallow cut.
Black ichor oozed from the wound, not blood. The bear twitched but did not wake. The steel blade was clean – no reaction, no sizzle, no glow.
"Nothing," Vlad said. "Steel cuts, but the wound does not burn. The creature does not weaken."
He set the blade aside.
The Second Blade – Silver
Vlad picked up a silver dagger, pure and bright.
"Silver. Blessed by Aldric."
He made a second cut. The silver blade hissed where it touched the black ichor. A thin wisp of smoke rose. The bear convulsed, its eyes flashing brighter.
"It reacts," Sparrow said.
"But does it kill?" Vlad examined the wound. The black ichor bubbled, then subsided. The bear settled.
"It causes pain," Aldric said. "But the corruption remains. Silver alone is not enough."
The Third Blade – Iron
"Cold iron," Vlad said, lifting a dark, unadorned blade. "Forged from meteorite ore."
He cut. The iron blade left a shallow gash. No reaction. No smoke. The bear did not move.
"Nothing," Hound said.
"Nothing," Vlad agreed.
The Fourth Blade – Dragon Bone
Vlad picked up a blade carved from lesser earth dragon bone, its edge sharp as steel.
"Dragon bone. The same material that pierced the dragon's hide."
He cut. The blade slid through the bear's fur easily. The wound bled black ichor – but the ichor smoked. Not as much as silver, but some.
The bear thrashed. Its eyes opened – green, glowing, aware.
"It's waking," Lynx warned.
Aldric stepped forward, his hand glowing. He pressed his palm to the bear's head. The beast's eyes dimmed. It slumped back into sedation.
"Dragon bone harms it," Aldric said. "But slowly. It would take many strikes to kill a possessed creature, let alone a spawn or a great demon."
"We need something stronger," Vlad said.
The Fifth Blade – Obsidian
"Volcanic glass," Vlad said, holding a razor‑sharp black blade. "Some cultures believe it cuts spiritual essence."
He cut. The obsidian blade left a clean wound, but no reaction. No smoke. No convulsion.
"Nothing," Rook said, writing in his notebook.
The Sixth Blade – Bronze
"Bronze. An ancient alloy."
He cut. The bear did not react.
"Nothing."
The Seventh Blade – Steel with Holy Oil
Vlad dipped a steel blade in holy oil, blessed by a priest of Dike.
He cut. The blade sizzled. Smoke rose. The bear convulsed violently, its eyes flashing.
"That's more," Titan said.
But the wound sealed quickly. The black ichor stopped smoking.
"It hurts them," Vlad said. "But the corruption regenerates. We need something that prevents regeneration."
The Eighth Blade – Alchemical Silver
Vlad held a blade of silver alloyed with dragon bone dust and quenched in alchemical solutions.
"My own design."
He cut. The blade hissed. The wound smoked. The bear screamed – a horrible, guttural sound – and thrashed against the cage bars. The black ichor turned red for a moment, then back to black.
"It almost worked," Striker said.
"Almost is not enough."
Vlad set the blade aside. He looked at the knights.
"None of these are sufficient. Steel cuts but does not harm. Silver and dragon bone cause pain but not death. The corruption regenerates faster than we can damage it."
"What do we do?" Hound asked.
Vlad was silent for a moment. Then he said, "We need materials we do not have. The dwarves of the Ironhold Compact mine ores unknown to the surface – metals that do not rust, that hold enchantment, that may have properties we cannot replicate."
"You want to trade with the dwarves?" Rook asked.
"We have lesser dragon materials. Scales. Bones. Teeth. The dwarves value such things. They may be willing to trade."
"And if they refuse?"
Vlad picked up the dragon bone blade. "Then we find another way. But we try this first."
Hammer stepped forward. "I know the dwarves. I was a smith. I can speak their tongue."
"You'll go with me," Vlad said.
Wall raised her splinted arm. "I'm coming too. I can still talk."
"No. You need to heal."
"I can talk while healing."
Vlad looked at her. Then he nodded. "Fine. But you stay in the rear."
The knights dispersed.
Vlad remained, staring at the bear. Its eyes glowed faintly in the dim light.
We will find a way, he thought. We have to.
End of Chapter Seventy‑One