“Then I pray you give it your all, Naga,” the Overseer said softly. “If you don’t want their blood staining your hands.”
Praya Parul…
The name sounded familiar, though Vir couldn’t initially place why. Balagra’s words stirred a memory of when Cirayus first told him of the demonic clans and their various capital cities, atop the Mahakurma’s back.
There were several reasons the Chitrans had grown desperate over the centuries, the foremost of which being their never-ending battle with the Ashen Realm. Their plight had struck Vir as similar to that of Matali’s—the slow, unceasing expansion of the Ashen Realm had eroded their territory over centuries.
Yet, unlike Matali, the Chitran capital had the misfortune of existing in the western reaches of their clan.
Praya Parul wasn’t a city, but a graveyard. A city that existed half within the Ash, and half in the Demon Realm, right at the Boundary.
A city that teemed with Ash Beasts.
Vir closed his eyes and took a breath. This was a setback, yes. But nothing he couldn’t handle. He’d simply have to take extra precautions. With Balagra and Malik at his side, though, Vir was confident they’d pull through.
He looked over at his friend and gave him a nod.
We’ll get through this.
“You heard me,” the Overseer said, spreading his fists wide on his wooden table. “Either you allow half of them to die on this excursion. Or I will have the lot of you executed. Every. Last. One.”
Vir and Balagra stood within the Overseer’s room, having been called there immediately after the Overseer’s demonstration ended.
The two stood stiff, not daring to meet the Overseer’s gaze. The first thing the Kothi had done was to buzz their collars for half a minute, leaving them writhing on the ground. Balagra for real, Vir acting the part.
“I know your types. The heroes. The ones who sacrifice themselves for the good of others. An unnecessary attitude out here. Dangerous. But we can beat that out of you. The others?” The Overseer brought his snout to within inches of Balagra’s face, but to his chagrin, the Naga did not falter. “We don’t need dead weight around here. We have neither the food nor the armament for anyone who brings down our capabilities.”
“And if we choose to overpower your guards and run off?” Balagra said.
The Overseer brought his face even closer to Balagra. So close that they almost touched.
“I have made you leaders, yes, but do not think for an instant that this gives you power in this place,” the Overseer muttered, pulling away and circling around them. “I will personally monitor every move you make on this outing, and I will be accompanied by enough guards to end your sorry cadre of prisoners on a moment’s notice, even without those collars. And make no mistake, your collars will be armed.”
Balagra chuckled softly.
“Something funny, Naga?” the Overseer said.
“For a moment, I actually thought you’d be giving those poor fools a chance,” Balagra said, ensuring he kept his back ramrod straight. “This isn’t training. It’s a culling. Those who survive will earn the privilege of being used as meat shields against Ash Beasts, I imagine. Or, if they’re lucky, as scouts to probe for soft spots in enemy lines. Alone.”
The Overseer cocked a brow, and so did Vir.
“Astute,” the Kothi said. “As I suspected, you are military trained, are you not? I wonder what your background is…”
When Balagra kept his silence, the Overseer continued, seemingly unperturbed.
“No matter. As I said, I’ve seen your type before. You fashion yourselves as heroes and martyrs. Saving the downtrodden or dying gloriously in the process. You think death does not scare you. That you would gallantly sacrifice yourselves to save the rest.”
The Overseer stopped pacing, switching his gaze between the two as he spoke.
“Now, as much as I would love to torture you all day long, I’m afraid I lack the time for such things. Which is why I am giving you an ultimatum. Either you sacrifice half, or everyone, along with yourselves, die upon return. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” Balagra seethed through gritted teeth, staring holes into a wall in the distance. Despite his calm facade, Vir knew his friend was raging underneath. He only hoped the Naga could control himself, lest he trigger the Overseer’s wrath. That ended only one way—with the collar.
The Overseer turned to Vir, who was far more sullen.
“Was this the Ravager’s wish?” Vir asked, having surmised as much. His question earned a pointed look from Balagra, who regarded him with a tinge of suspicion. Vir was planning on giving him a plausible explanation eventually, so hiding his connection with Cirayus was pointless—or at least, hiding the connection he wanted the world to believe he had was pointless.
“Putting you in charge? Yes.”
“And the deaths?” Vir asked, mostly for Balagra’s sake.
“Mine,” the monkey man grinned. “Now, are we understood? Or do we need another round of collar?”
“We’re understood,” Vir muttered.
“Good. Now get out of my sight. And don’t forget to collect your weapons and armor on your way out. And your tent. One of the few perks of command. Do enjoy it… while it lasts.”
42SCALES OF LIFE
“And for the tenth time, I’m saying you’re being irrational,” Balagra muttered to Vir, careful to keep himself from being overheard by the two hundred demons who marched behind them. It’d struck Vir as odd that the Overseer put them in charge of so many, though it was a perfect tactic to ensure maximum chaos.
‘March’ may have been a generous word for the prisoners’ disorganized movements. The untrained, ragtag mob of would-be soldiers barely managed to stay in a single group, let alone form an orderly formation. A fact made all the more obvious by the crisp marching lines of the Kothis who guarded them.
“No, I’m saying I’ll find a third option,” Vir said, reducing his voice to almost a whisper. His troops weren’t the only ones who’d be trying to listen in. “One that’ll ensure as few people die on this mission as possible.”
Balagra stopped and turned, meeting Vir’s gaze. “You think you’re doing these people a favor by extending their lives? You’re not. You’re merely lengthening their torture. You are out of your mind to even entertain the idea of keeping all of them alive, but let’s say you’re successful. What then? What fate do you think awaits these poor souls? The Ash. That’s what.”
Balagra allowed the words to hang, as if daring Vir to respond. He didn’t, so the Naga continued.
“I’ve seen the way you fight. I know you could handle yourself in that blighted realm. But mark my words, surviving alone and protecting others are different beasts entirely. Ask yourself. Could you save those who have no business entering that realm? I think not. Dying here, or dying in the Ash—what difference does it make?”
Balagra started walking again, just as the nearest troops began to approach earshot. “At least dying here puts them out of their misery sooner.”
Vir didn’t immediately reply. This was hardly the first time they had this conversation, and Vir doubted it would be the last. The hardest part was that Balagra had a point. Many of these demons were wholly unfit to be anywhere near the Ash, let alone marching right up to the Boundary.
While the Warriors who fought at the Boundary were undoubtedly veterans, that was only true because those unfit to fight had perished long ago.
Even with proper training and the best equipment, Vir suspected many would still perish. If there was one thing the year’s time in the ash had taught him, it was that fighting was about more than just tactics, skill, and weaponry. It was a mindset. The mindset to put aside one’s fear, survival instincts, and compassion, to end the life of another.