Touch of Fate

Chapter 69: A Resounding Maybe

As soon as Nash saw Mike's victory over Keld, he knew that the fight was lost. The Thirteenth Sword of the Chosen had been the most accomplished fighter of the three. Between his skills and his Bestowal, Keld was usually able to deal with almost any opponent.

When the young adventurer impaled his best warrior with his bare hands, and then immolate him from the inside, Nash decided that it was time to retreat.

"Joran, we're pulling back! Use your Bestowal."

The wounded Chosen nodded his reply, summoning his Rune of Obfuscation. A dark cloud of smoke filled the air for dozens of meters in every direction.

Ignoring the panicked shouts of the adventurers, Nash and Joran disengaged and vanished into the night.

After running several blocks, making a stop to reclaim Joran's spear, and once again crossing the defensive perimeter that had been established by the city's inhabitants, they halted to regroup.

Nash was furious. He had never failed a task given to him by his Cabal superiors, even after hundreds of years in their service. Indeed, such was his devotion and excellence that he had long been considered for induction into the Inner Circle. Only his relative lack of power had prevented him from taking the final step.

Now, he was on the verge of failing one of the most important mission of his career. Unless he could kill or capture the Oracle, the entire operation was in jeopardy. No matter the excuse, failure would not be tolerated. Not now.

With a curse, he kicked an abandoned fruit stall, breaking it to pieces and sending fruit flying across the street. A small group of lesser demons had to scrabble out of the way as the cart nearly collapsed on them. Their panicked chittering completely covered the gasp that emerged from a nearby shadow.

"Damn that Keld! If only he could have taken things seriously, we wouldn't be in this mess." He growled, venting his anger.

Joran, of course, remained silent. The warrior had never uttered a sound since the moment of his Joining, and many among the Chosen believe that something had gone wrong with the process.

Nash took a deep breath, despite no longer needing to, and finally calmed down. Even with the loss of one of the Thirteen Swords, he had not fully failed yet. Securing the Oracle would make up for it. If he could bring his masters the head of that fearsome young adventurer, Nash might even be rewarded once the Cabal established their rule.

With a renewed sense of purpose, he started moving deeper into the demon infested portion of the city. He was headed towards a certain Cabal safe house. With luck, he would be able to garner all the help he would need to turn this situation around.

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As the pair of armored figures departed, Julia slowly slid out of the shadowed doorway. Taking a quick look around to confirm she was alone on the deserted street she heaved a sigh of relief. For the first time since the sun went down, she could stop and rest for a moment.

After delivering her message to a number of the surrounding Dark Guilds, Julia had gotten caught up in the fighting. At first, things had been going their way, but then more powerful demons started showing up. Pretty soon, Julia found herself fleeing for her life.

For the last hour and a half, she had been running through the demon infested streets, and it took every ounce of her skill as a thief to avoid being eaten by the rampaging monsters. She'd lost count of the number of times that she'd narrowly avoided certain death.

Luckily, the invaders seemed to be more interested moving south than hunting a lone beastman. From the sounds of it, a major confrontation was taking place somewhere nearby. There were several explosions, and at one point she thought she saw some kind of giant pole-like object appearing in mid-air. Almost as soon as it appeared, it was launched towards the ground, creating a terrific impact.

Julia had never been one to believe in the apocalypse, but the last couple of hours were starting to change her mind.

[If I get out of this alive, I'm going to give up crime, take up religion, and become a priestess.]

She thought for a second, recalling her past.

[This is not like all the other times I promised that. I mean it this time.]

There was a clatter of stones behind her.

Not waiting to find out the origin of the sound, she immediate burst into a full on sprint, running as fast as she could towards the nearest alley. Just before she rounded the corner, she took a moment to glance back and see what was chasing her.

A pair of tall, skeletal demons with mottled grayish-green skin were loping after her with unsettling grace. She took one look at the elongated hands ending in razor sharp claws and started running faster.

[Come on! I definitely wasn't lying......ok, so maybe I wasn't going to give up crime, but I was definitely going to stop robbing clergy members........as often.]

Unfortunately for Julia, she was running deeper into the demon held territory. Every step bringing her closer to doom.

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It didn't take long for the cloud of smoke to dissipate, but the gas irritated every mucus membrane it came in contact with. Mike and the other adventurers were coughing and hacking long after the last of the black smog faded from view.

Although he'd never been exposed to it before, Mike was reminded of tear gas from his old world.

"That sucked." Berg said, when he had recovered sufficiently to speak. Glancing around, he continued, "It looks like they got away."

Mike nodded, agreeing with the adventurer's summary. He had a sinking feeling that the two armored monstrosities would be back. For whatever reason, they seemed focused on Sera.

Thinking of the Oracle reminded him that he still needed to treat the remainder of her injuries. He jogged back over to her. After a few minutes of concentration, he was finished.

Sera was still unconscious, but Mike figured she should be waking up soon.

Luckily, it seemed a few of his mana related skills had improved, so even with the added burden of spot treating Berg's back, he still felt capable of taking action should the need arise.

Gently picking Sera up, he stood, and followed the group back to the barricade.

It seemed that the rest of the defense force had been fighting sporadically while they had been gone, as isolated pockets of demons managed to overcome the altered terrain. Thanks in large part to the massive ditch that now occupied half of the intersection, injuries were few and far between.

James walked over as soon as they approached. "Good to see you, lad. When you took off, we weren't sure what had happened."

His gaze fell on the unmoving woman in Mike's arms. "Is she.."

"Unconscious. I've treated her injuries, so I suspect that she will be coming around any time now."

"Good to hear." The senior adventurer eyed the gash across Berg's back. "Looks like you've had a serious fight. Why don't you all take a rest for a while. Gather your strength."

Gratefully accepting the suggestions, Mike found a good spot, and laid his charge down. Sera had begun to move slightly, eyelids fluttering now and then. It made him think she was close to waking.

[Of course, she only wakes up after I've carried her to safety.]

One of Berg's party members, whose name Mike couldn't remember, walked up to him.

The large man was carrying a two-handed sword.

Handing it to Mike, he spoke in a clumsy manner, "Almost left this behind, so I grabbed it for ya. Spoils of war 'n all."

With a grin he slapped Mike on the back, almost knocking him over.

Mike realized that it was Keld's sword, and briefly maintained the idea of tossing it. Just knowing it had been the weapon of such a person made him feel a little uncomfortable. However, he decided to at least inspect it before making any decisions.

The weapon was roughly two meters in length, and heavy. Mike had trouble guessing the weight of objects ever since his strength had started to increase, but he figured it was probably it was around five kilograms based on the amount of metal involved.

The blade was a dull featureless grey, but when held at a certain angle, Mike could see a jagged mottling pattern along its length. The hilt was a simple cross guard with a dark leather wrapping, however the pommel was carved in the likeness of a human skull, mouth opened in a scream.

He used Appraise.

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{Manslayer}

Magic Sword (Tier 3, Rank 4)

Once the weapon of Keld, Thirteenth Sword of the Chosen, this blade has been steeped in the blood of many, warriors and innocents alike. Forged in the fires of Lenolin and quenched in the lifeblood of a hundred human slaves, Manslayer was created for one task and one task only, to exterminate all of mankind. It is said that this sword will never tarnish nor dull until the last of humanity has been slain.

Special Effects: Indomitable

Resistant to nearly all forms of damage. May only be broken by the most intense of use, or the harshest of treatment.

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"Ick," was the only thing he could squeeze out after

Mike held the weapon gingerly in one hand, placing the blade as far from his body as possible.

[This thing is really disturbing.]

Right now he wanted nothing more than to drop the evil thing in the closest well, but after mulling it over for a bit, he reconsidered.

[While this thing is repugnant, I am in need of a sword that's a bit more durable. I keep breaking mine at inopportune moments, and its starting to become a problem.]

Resolving himself to the idea, he held it properly.

[I guess I'll hold on to it until I can find something better, or at least something a little less horrifying.]

He took a few practice swings with it, trying to get a feel for its weight.

[Its a shame that its a little too big to be used with Almiran Swordsmanship.]

A quiet moan interrupted his investigation. It seemed that the Oracle was finally awake.

Sera's eyes snapped open, and she began operating in blind panic, clawing at her surroundings in an effort to get away.

Mike quickly moved over to her, making soothing gestures. "Whoa there, now. It's alright. Your safe."

She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, speaking rapidly. "No, you don't understand. Its not going to be alright. They've almost won. They're so close to their goal."

"Slow down, you're not making any sense. Who's almost won?"

She hugged her knees to her chest. "The Cabal's ritual is almost done. When they succeed, it will be the end for all of us."

Mike grabbed her shoulders and looked her in the eye. Speaking as calmly as he could manage, "Calm down, I won't let anything like that happen, but I'm going to need you to explain what's going on."

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