Chapter 31 - Ride to Drenvar
Dawn clawed over the camp, a pale gray slash cutting through the mist-wrapped trees.
Liam stood at the hollow's edge, boots sinking into cold, wet earth, cloak stiff with dew. His breath fogged sharp, chest tight. His sword hung heavy at his hip, still flecked with blood, its grip worn smooth under his palm. The camp stirred with soldiers grunting, survivors muttering—but a rider burst through, horse lathered, shattering the quiet.
"Drenvar has been hit—scout report, fresh!" the man barked. His armor dented, face soot-streaked—his horse snorted, hooves pawing as he reined it hard. "Maltheris' forces attacked overnight. Two hours north!" His voice cracked—fear under grit—then he wheeled back, shouting for mounts.
Liam's gut twisted, Maltheris again, another town bleeding—his hand clenched his hilt, knuckles white. Thalrune's ash still clung to his throat, now Drenvar too. Lysandra strode up—silver hair tied tight, armor buckling fast—her eyes narrowed, cutting the rider's words to bone. "Two hours—we should leave now—catch the their tail." Her tone snapped—her sword gleamed as she swung onto her gray mare—breath steaming, resolve steel.
Selene prowled out—trousers scuffed, claws flexing—tan skin caught the dawn's pallor, her tail flicking sharp as she mounted her black gelding. "Another hit? Fucker's begging for claws—smells like coal and death." Her crimson eyes glinted and her nose twitched, catching the wind—her smirk flashed at Liam, edged with hunger. "Ready to rip, Hero?"
Erynn emerged—golden curls tangled, cloak clutched tight—her staff clicked against roots as she climbed her chestnut, eyes wide but fierce. "Drenvar—mining folk don't break easy—he's pushing too far!" Her voice rose—her scorched arm healed smooth—her hand brushed Liam's cloak—soft, steady—then gripped her reins hard.
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"No more running—let's end this," Liam growled—his horse stamped as he hauled up. He wasn't going to let them slip away this time. They spurred north—soldiers peeling off to guard survivors—horses thundered through scrubland, mud spraying—wind lashed his face, cold and raw—two hours to Drenvar, closing fast.
The land hardened—hills spiked with slate, air thickening with dust—Drenvar loomed, a mining hub carved from stone and grit. Ore carts rusted on tracks, picks glinted in the dirt—smoke coiled black over rooftops—slag heaps towered, air sour with coal and molten iron—tough folk lived here, faces weathered, hands calloused—now screaming, fleeing as flames licked their homes. They struck deep—smoke stung Liam's eyes—his bay snorted, hooves grinding shale—rage flared—another scar on the border.
Lysandra reined sharp—mare rearing—her silver gaze swept the chaos—"they are still here—center!"—her blade flashed free—steel ringing—smoke parted—eight figures loomed—Maltheris' grunts, clad in black iron, axes and maces raised—torches dropped, igniting ore dust—flames flared—roars echoed off stone. Liam's sword ripped out, muscles coiled—his grin bared—"Time to shine"—his bay charged—combat crashed in.
Selene leapt, abandoning her horse, claws slashing air—her tail snapped as she tackled one, grabbing his neck and bashing his head against a rock, blood sprayed—her snarl tore through, tan skin streaked red—her gelding bolted free—her claws sank deeper—guts spilled, and she laughed wildly.
Erynn raised her staff, the air around her alive. Her low, resonant voice drove her hair to whirl as she started to chant.
"Ventis ignisque, audite me!" she intoned, her green eyes blazing with intensity. The runes on her staff lit up a bright orange, and the tip of it spewed out a swirling storm of wind and fire.
Her opponent sprang at her, but Erynn was already moving, her steps light and precise. She swung her staff in a wide arc, and a scorching arc of fire blasted forth, striking into the raider's chest. His armor blazed red-hot, and he staggered back, screaming in pain.
"Glacies acuta, perfora!" she cried, her voice rising above the chaos. The air around her grew extremely cold, and shards of razor-sharp ice appeared, speeding toward the him. They struck with deadly precision, penetrating his helmet and knocking him to the ground.
Blood streaked her cloak as she turned to confront the next attacker, her staff humming with energy. Her chest rose and sank with each breath, but her eyes remained fixed, her resolve unwavering.
"Fulmen caeli, descende!" she roared, thrusting her staff skyward. A bolt of lightning ripped through the heavens, reaching the ground with a thunderous crack. The attacker was flung backward, his body convulsing as lightning passed through him.
Erynn stood amidst the chaos, her staff glowing faintly, her cloak billowing in the wind as she scanned the battlefield.
"Liam, Right!" She shouted.
Liam turned to see two opponents lunging at him, maces swinging. His horse sidestepped, hooves skidding; Liam slashed his sword, biting into one's arm until flesh parted and bone snapped, gushing blood. He yanked the blade free and thrust it forward, splitting the second's chest as ribs cracked and red poured out; both crumpled to the ground. his pulse hammered—control tight. Two down, clean.
Lysandra carved through the fray, her mare slamming into an opponent as she arced her blade, severing his neck; his head rolled, and blood fountained while her silver hair danced in the smoke. Another swung his axe high; she ducked, letting steel graze her pauldron, then thrust her blade into his gut and twisted it, choking off his scream. Her eyes blazed, unyielding—four dead now, Drenvar's dust soaking red.
Three remained, hulking in spiked armor. One roared and crashed his mace against Liam's blade, jolting his arm with shock; he grinned and pivoted, his horse rearing to smash hooves into the raider's chest. Armor dented as breath wheezed out; Liam slashed his sword across the throat, opening it with a spray of blood.
Selene pounced on the next, tearing his face with claws until his eyes popped and blood streamed; her tail lashed with a feral snarl. Erynn blasted the last, cracking his knee with her staff; bone shattered, and he fell, her boot stomping his skull with a crunch that echoed as her gasp shook with newfound ferocity.
Smoke thinned as eight bodies sprawled across Drenvar's streets, red pooling in the dust while flames hissed low. Survivors peeked from alleys—miners with picks, eyes hard. Liam wiped his blade on a corpse, his breath steady; five kills were his, and growth clawed upward. The system pinged: "Level Up: 7. Rewards: Physical +1 (8), Energy +1 (10)." His grin widened—Level 7—stronger, sharper.
Lysandra dismounted, her boots crunching shale. Her mare snorted, streaked with blood; her silver gaze swept the dead before settling on Liam with a flickering smirk, pride clear. "Five. Damn clean. Hero's waking up," she said, her voice cutting sharp as she sheathed her blade, hair clinging damp.
Selene sauntered over, claws dripping and tan skin smeared red. Her tail flicked as she grinned wide and sharp. "Fuck, five? You're stealing my fun; I tasted that one's guts," she said, her laugh rasping while crimson eyes danced. She bumped his shoulder, claws teasing his arm with wild respect.
Erynn stepped close, steadying her staff. Golden curls stuck to her face, blood flecking her hands; her green eyes met his, bright and fierce, her smile trembling before holding firm. "You were—wow—saved us again," she said, gripping his wrist soft yet firm.
Liam sheathed his sword, blood crusting his knuckles. "He's bleeding towns and won't stop 'til we gut him." He said.