“And yet,” Vir said, “the mission would have been a failure had it not been for your efforts.”
He was pleased to see Gunin and Lagen get along. They’d been far less talkative on their outbound journey, and he was sure he’d have to intervene at some point. The development gave him hope. Hope that one day, Garga and Chitran could coexist—if not in harmony, perhaps at least in peace.
Despite Gunin being a Chitran and with Lagen harboring a deep hatred of their kind, the two were still able to coexist. Vir had no doubt Lagen still had plenty of misgivings, but if the demon could bottle them up and work together for mutual benefit, that was fine by him.
“Still, I don’t think I’ve ever seen this much wealth in one place,” Lagen muttered. “Sure would fetch a tidy sum in Panav.”
Vir walked in front of Lagen, but could guess that both of his companions were staring holes in his back at that moment.
“We certainly could,” Vir said, surprising them. “I imagine the gear here would fetch enough for each of us to live happily for years. We selected only the worthiest armor and weaponry, after all. All are combat ready, and of high quality, to boot.”
Their haul contained quite the assortment of styles, though if there was one constant, it was that they were all of high quality. These were armaments built for front-line warriors. High carbon steel chainmail and steel plate were common, though there were few full sets that protected all the limbs. Demons seemed to prefer mobility far more than humans, and this was especially true for the nimble Kothis.
Even so, their armor was well built and protected all the vitals. Vir approved—seeing as he’d chosen the mobility route himself.
As for the weapons, there were steel and seric spears, talwars, scimitars, and a variety of maces, polearms, and other instruments of war. With a bit of sharpening and honing, they’d be ready for war.
“We very well could,” Vir repeated. “If we sacrificed the lives of two hundred of our brothers. Is that something you are willing to do?”
Lagen stiffened. “Of course not. It was just a passing thought.”
Vir nodded, knowing fully the demon would never betray the prisoners. He was fiercely loyal, especially to the Garga. It wasn’t him Vir was worried about. He threw the Kothi an expectant glance.
Gunin sighed. “I would not. The Chitran would no doubt catch on, eventually. Especially when all the gear is built for Chitran warriors. People would ask where I got all of this, and I’d have no suitable answer. At least, none good enough to resist scrutiny. And the subsequent imprisonment.”
Vir wasn’t exactly happy that the Kothi seemed to reject the idea on a practical basis rather than a moral one, but he’d take what he could get. He hadn’t exactly chosen his bedfellows in this case.
Wonder if there’ll ever come a day when I lead a proper army. Well trained, and loyal only to me…
An interesting thought, but ultimately a useless one. If Vir couldn’t retake Garga with the resources he had, there was no point thinking of the future.
Vir’s eyes came to rest on the horizon. They would be arriving shortly.
“Can you imagine their faces, though?” Lagen said, echoing Vir’s thoughts. “They’ll shit their pants when they see this haul. Say, how are we going to assign the equipment, anyway? I had my eye on some pieces…”
“I-I as well,” Gunin chimed in.
Vir chuckled. “As the ones who risked their lives obtaining them, you two can have your pick. As for the rest, Balagra and I will…”
Vir trailed off, his eyes catching something on the horizon. Still too far to discern, the mass of black looked out of place, even from this distance.
“What is it?” Lagen asked, coming up next to Vir. “More Ash Beasts? We’ll handle them, same as the others. Or, I suppose, you’re the one who’ll handle them. We’ll just sit tight while we nurse our bruised egos.”
Lagen and Gunin chuckled wryly, but Vir hardly noticed. As they neared, his concern mounted.
“Those are no Ash Beasts,” Gunin said, jumping deftly up onto a laden Ash’va, which caused it to neigh in annoyance. “They’re demons.”
“Gunin is right,” Vir said slowly. “And not just any demons. That’s an army.”
“But what army would…” Lagen stopped in his tracks. “The Chitran. They’ve found us? But how?”
“It appears that way,” Gunin replied. “My eyes see around five hundred. A hefty chunk of the Garrison. Based on their movements, I’d say they’re already engaged in combat.”
Vir cursed under his breath. How had they found out? What transpired at the camp in their absence?
Either way, there was nothing to be done about it now. In fact, there was only one thing they could do. The one recourse Vir had dreaded being forced to rely on now seemed to be their only hope.
“Lead the Ash’va to the Boundary. Get close, but not too close. And prepare for combat.”
“What will you do?” Gunin asked.
“What else?” Vir replied. “I’m going to help our brothers.”
Vir crouched and Leaped, kicking up a cloud of ash that sent the two others coughing.
“I hate it when he does that…”
Bloodline Arts flew in every conceivable direction, some blasting the rocks that formed the prisoners’ wall while others dissipated harmlessly in the sky. The prisoners had rolled boulders into the entrance, sealing themselves inside their barricade as they pelted the approaching army with magic from above.
This much was expected—chaos and danger.
It was when Vir drew close enough to feel Warrior Chakra attacks sailing through the air that he began to panic. This was no fair trade of blows, but a one-sided massacre. Stuck in the relative safety of their encampment, the prisoners were being pummeled, unable to escape or fight back.
Nothing could fight Chakra, except other Chakra. And of the combatants present, only the Chitran army possessed Warriors experienced enough to launch ranged Chakra attacks. Bound by neither physical nor magical constraints, they tore into the walls, rending asunder the souls of anyone unfortunate enough to stand behind them.
It was an effective tactic, if cruel—the Chitran army gradually advanced, preventing the prisoners from harming them as they marched over the open plains. Then, when they arrived at the rock wall, it would be far too late.
While the mountain’s natural protection had kept them alive until now, it wouldn’t be much longer until they were overrun. After that, only a genocide awaited the poor souls on the other side.
That was, of course, unless Vir sowed some chaos in their ranks.
Leaping near the back of the Chitran forces, Vir allowed himself to fall into the shadows. From there, it was a simple matter of killing without being seen. A skill Vir had extensive practice with.
One by one, the Kothis fell. A Prana Bladed talwar swipe here cut leg tendons, while a thrust there slipped his blade between the gaps in their armor, ending their lives in an instant.
Perhaps it was wrong to kill so freely. Ordinarily, Vir wouldn’t think of it. But the Chitran had made up their minds. They’d marched their army out here for one purpose and one purpose alone—to send a message to the world. To tell other prisoners that any act of rebellion would be met with overwhelming force.
As the one responsible for putting the prisoners in that situation, it was Vir’s duty to clean up his mess.
For them, Vir spared no remorse. Even if it required killing every last foe.
As it turned out, he hadn’t needed to. Only moments later, several Kothis bellowed out roars, which Vir knew to be the initiation trigger for Warlord’s Battlecry—the Chitran Bloodline Art that emboldened allies while striking fear into their foes.