Herald of Shalia 2, page 28
“Herald Frost,” Desdemona called out from her spot beside Hestia in the wagon. “You should give me up to protect the Arachne. They won’t kill me but if we fight, innocents could get hurt.”
“I know,” Frost said while shaking his head. “I could always let them take you and chase after you later. But then what? Next week somebody will threaten Brynn or Lysandra. Somebody will kidnap a child from my village and demand my head.” He let out a loud groan while looking up at the sky. Frost ran his fingers through his hair and cracked his neck while mulling over his options. “I won’t give you Desdemona, but I do have an offer for you Ed.”
“We won’t accept anything except for the demon,” the templar said while signally his archers to get ready.
“You’re going to want to hear this offer,” Frost said while looking around at the assembled soldiers. “The offer is you walk away right now and in exchange I’ll pretend this never happened.”
“Excuse me?”
“Or!” Frost said loudly not only to the followers of Riliandra but the citizens of the city harboring them. “I will kill every man, woman, and child in this city for sheltering you. After which, I’ll spend the next year hunting down every follower of Riliandra and if I so much as hear her name I’ll cut out the tongue of whoever says it. So, the question isn’t whether or not I can protect a couple hundred of my followers, it’s whether you can protect thousands of yours. Every city where I find even a single one of your followers, I’ll burn to the ground until your goddess’ name is a profanity only uttered by the damned. I fucking dare you to so much as scratch one of my followers. See what happens.”
“You’re bluffing,” Edmund smirked. “Nobody would…”
“I come from a world where we killed over a hundred thousand people, men, women, children alike in a single blast,” Frost chuckled while shaking his head. “Make no fucking mistake, Shalia might be a goddess of love but she didn’t pull me from some peaceful world full of love and hope. She pulled me from a world where we’ve mastered killing to the point that we could eradicate all life in less time than it takes for you to take a fucking shit. And I sleep like a fucking baby. You think Darius Asmund is a warlord? You fuckers don’t even know what a war is.”
Frost looked around as the soldiers slowly backed away. A few held their ground while looking to the templar for instruction. A little over half of them seemed like they were ready to run while the other half appeared to be hoping for their commander to order the retreat.
The citizens themselves were even more nervous and many of them rushed their children inside. They were probably fine housing the followers of Riliandra and supporting them from the shadows but they didn’t sign up to actually be involved. As soon as they realized that Frost would treat them the same as combatants, they wanted out.
Edmund, despite all of his confidence was visibly shaken. He likely never imagined the type of destruction Frost just described to him and seemed to be reconsidering his options. He knew the only leverage he had was Frost’s followers and if Frost intended to let them die, he had nothing, making the threat of Frost taking vengeance on him all too real.
“Slade,” Frost made the gesture for cutting a throat then looked back at the elves. “Ena, Lysandra, Brynn, barriers! Protect everybody!”
“What,” Edmund tried to take a defensive stance as he realized that Frost had already made his choice for him. Frost launched himself forward and drew his sword while simultaneously casting paralyze with his free hand. The templar couldn’t so much as gurgle a command as he stood frozen while Frost’s sword pierced his neck.
“You should have never threatened what’s mine,” Frost whispered as he twisted the blade and yanked his sword to the side. The templar’s head rolled backwards and hung from his body, held by a small chunk of muscle and skin. Frost glanced at the rooftop and saw Slade dashing across slicing the throats of any archer or spellcaster in his path as they stood paralyzed by indecision.
“Frost!” Ena snarled while bashing a soldier with her shield sending him flying. “What should we do?”
“Just like we trained!” Frost commanded. “Lysandra and Brynn, heal and support! Fayeth and Renna, attack! Ena, defend!”
“On it!” Renna said excitedly drawing her daggers.
“You got it handsome,” Brynn said playing her flute. The petite bard leaped into the center of the Arachne circle as a massive whirlwind of air formed around the Arachne children.
“I’m a bit out of practice but I’ll do my best,” Lysandra said calmly while standing up on the wagon. She lifted her hands as a gentle blue glow began emanating from the beautiful priestess. With a wave of her hand an azure haze flowed forth enveloping everybody in a ten-yard radius in a protective shell. With another wave of her hand she began casting individual. “I can probably only keep this up for thirty minutes or so.”
“Thirty minutes,” Frost said as she scanned the calm priestess. Her mental strength was barely declining as she maintained mid-level barriers on not only those surrounding her, but at least a dozen Arachne. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically and he realized she was full of surprises as a level ten meditation buff appear above her head. “That’ll be plenty.”
“Dishonorable whoreson!” a holy knight screamed as he attempted to catch Frost off guard. Frost elegantly sliced the knight in half giving the surrounding knights even more reason to hesitate. It was a vicious cycle of hesitation leading to death leading to more hesitation.
Frost couldn’t deny the accusation of being dishonorable. It always seemed that the people with an overwhelming advantage screamed the loudest of honor. But when an honorable death was the prize for having honor, he’d pass.
“Hel...” a spellcaster screamed from a rooftop as Slade stabbed his stomach. The silver-haired ninja quickly spun the robed man like a ballroom dance partner, tearing out his guts. He smiled and posed for the three surrounding spellcasters as if he’d just finished a magic trick. He pointed his knife at the three as if deciding who to go after next and faded back into nothingness.
Slade likely had a similar mentality to his own but while Frost’s came from a sort of pragmatism, Slade’s came from a warped and cruel life. He wasn’t simply killing his opponents but making examples of them for everybody to see. He came out of nowhere delivering needlessly gruesome deaths like a horror movie villain before vanishing back into the shadows. Frost preferred to kill his enemies quickly while Slade turned it into a spectacle and spread fear.
Regardless of the way Frost felt about it, both methods seemed to be having the desired result. The enemies were in complete disarray.
“A little help!” Ena roared as she held back three powerful soldiers with a series of shield bashes and wild swings. The winded elf created a magical barrier blocking two attacks while deflecting another with her shield hand. Her opponents were all higher level than her but thanks to the supportive magic of Lysandra and Brynn she was just barely holding her own.
“Heads up!” Frost said while pulling out long dagger and launching it in Ena’s direction. The blonde elf quickly backed up and took a defensive stance as the dagger flew by her and cut through a soldier’s plate cuirass like it was nothing. The soldier fell to the ground as two others froze in their tracks.
“Bastard!” Ena snapped while shoving a panicking civilian to the side. The entire square was fleeing in terror as they realized that Frost may come after them next. “That could have killed me!”
“I wasn’t going to miss,” Frost said confidently since his precision was maxed out. It was possible for him to miss, but from that range it wasn’t likely. Even if he had missed, he certainly wouldn’t have missed by enough to hit her.
Frost dashed toward three soldiers attempting to escape. He took one of their heads with a horizontal slash from behind as the two others tripped over themselves trying to evade him. As they tumbled to the ground Frost mercilessly cleaved their skulls before moving to his next target.
He was focusing on the high-levels first, anybody who could potentially give Ena and the elves trouble needed to be dealt with personally. The Arachne appeared to be doing the same as Chasa hooked her massive spear into a soldier and flung him to the far side of the square. The crimson dragoon was terrifyingly fast and powerful as she tore her opponents apart with her barbed spear.
“Ahh!” Desdemona buried her head between her legs as an enormous fireball crashed against Lysandra’s barrier. “They’re going to kill us!”
“Everything is fine,” Lysandra said in a sing-song voice as she refreshed her barrier. A few arrows broke through only to be swept away by Brynn’s whirlwind. The white-haired priest didn’t flinch as a barrage of ice lances crashed against her barrier and transformed into a shimmering snowfall. She just continued smiling and casting spells. “Everything is fine. Nothing can hurt you. Everything is fine. Nothing can hurt you.”
“Trust us,” Fayeth said confidently while loosing an arrow at the enemies on the rooftops. “We’ll protect you.”
“Although I could use some help down here!” Ena snapped as she narrowly avoided a sword. The blonde squire intercepted an assassin making a break for the wagon using shield bash. After disorienting the assassin, Ena twisted her body and slammed her cudgel into the assassin’s ribcage causing them to tumble to the ground. “Why am I doing all the work?”
“I’m doing plenty!” Renna argued while dashing in and slicing the throat of the fallen assassin before dashing back out. The petite thief carefully selected her next target while ensuring Ena was always between her and the enemies. “You’re not the only one working hard you pent-up hag!”
“I am not a hag!” Ena said headbutting a soldier before bringing her cudgel down with an overhead swing.
“Just pent up,” Renna teased while stabbing the kidneys of a disoriented fighter.
“I’m not that either!” Ena roared angrily.
“Are my children secure?” Slakka asked with an eerie calmness that made Frost’s hair stand on end. The Arachne had been erecting barriers of their own as both the warriors and spellweavers took equidistant positions around the children.
One of the Arachne soldiers nodded at the queen and she slowly walked to the forefront of the crowd. Several Rilian soldiers immediately regretted their decision to attack Slakka as Chasa moved to defend her and effortless tore them to shreds.
Slakka’s eyes glowed red as she slipped on a pair of strange ebony gauntlets. Runic markings covered the claw-like metallic gloves and they started glowing as soon as the spellweaver put them on. The dark bags beneath the Arachne’s dead eyes faded away as crimson veins ignited beneath her pale flesh like a red webbing.
“Strands,” Slakka said she swiped her hands as if working an invisible loom. Her fingers moved rapidly as if she were pretending to craft something out of thin air but it quickly became clear she wasn’t crafting. The space in front of her began to glow and after a minute a single thread solidified. Slakka gently grabbed each end of the thread and tugged it. “I’ll call you Riliandra’s Remorse.”
The Arachne ripped the thread in half and instantly over a dozen soldiers fell to the ground and began hacking up blood. Their bodies spasmed as they desperately attempted to stand and found themselves unable.
“Help!” a soldier screamed as blood flowed from his eyes. “I can’t see! Somebody!”
“Fuck,” Frost gasped as the glowing Arachne began weaving her next spell. Her expression suggested that her previous spell was in fact a failure.
“Dammit!” Ena roared as she launched herself directly into an axe wielding knight. Her opponent attempted to cleave her as she summoned up a barrier, weakening the blow before it landed against her shield. Unlike the other soldiers, he seemed to have experience.
The fighter delivered a powerful kick to Ena’s chest throwing her off balance before pivoting to Fayeth. He rushed the blonde archer as she targeted a soldier in the distance.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Ena growled as she rushed after the fighter. He was out of her range and faster than she was but none of that mattered as she lifted her cudgel above her head and brought it crashing down. “You think I’m going to let you!”
A bright light came crashing down on the soldier knocking him to the ground. Frost tried not to get too distracted by what he could only describe as a smiting. Renna quickly slit the disoriented soldier’s throat as Ena looked on with equal confusion as those who’d seen it happen.
“Pay attention,” Frost reminded the blonde elf as she shook off what just happened and returned to defending the wagon.
“No, no, no,” Desdemona whined as she glanced around at the carnage. Her breathing increased as she buried her head further between her legs, attempting not to look at any of it.
“Are you okay?” Lysandra asked while placing her hand on Desdemona’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll protect…”
“It’s not that,” Desdemona whimpered while staring at a corpse right outside the wagon. Her face was turning red and she started panting as if she were ready to orgasm. “I can’t be around this…”
“Herald Frost,” Lysandra yelled anxiously. “Something’s wrong with Desdemona.”
“I’m not supposed to be around things like this,” Desdemona panted while sneaking glances of the carnage. “Dari always makes sure that I never see the bodies.”
“Oh, fuck,” Frost said as he glanced back at the red-eyed demoness. Her entire body was trembling and drool dripped from the corners of her mouth. “Can somebody get her a pig. I really don’t want to see…”
“Too late,” Lysandra whined as Desdemona leaped from the wagon and tore into a dead soldier’s neck. The demoness practically ripped his head off as her fangs gnawed on him.
“Oh god,” Frost turned away as he saw her devour a chunk of esophagus. “Fuck, I didn’t need to see that.”
“I’m so sorry,” Desdemona cried while eating the soldier she’d just killed. “I’m really sorry. They’re just so good…”
“It’s fine,” Frost said reassuringly while focusing on his opponents. “Nothing some toothpicks and a few gallons of liquor can’t fix.”
“I’m so sorry!” Desdemona wailed with a mouth full of human flesh. Red tears ran down her face as she continued to devour the soldier like he was a gallon of ice cream and she was a girl getting over a breakup.
“Mother fuckers,” Frost snapped furiously as he dashed toward a contingent of soldiers attempting to flee. “It’s your fucking fault I had to see that!”
Frost paralyzed each of them and took their heads with a few flicks of his wrist. It felt almost like cheating as the soldiers looked on helplessly while his sword slid into their chests, sliced through their necks, or cleaved their skulls. Anybody who entered his radius was as good as dead.
It was a slaughter and the citizens of the city certainly weren’t expecting it to be so one sided. Almost all of the soldiers with a brain ran off as soon as they saw the writing on the wall. Those that remained, well, if they weren’t dead, they were pretty much pissing themselves as the citizens turned on them. And the citizens turned on them quick.
It wasn’t long before they began pushing the soldiers forward like offerings to a cruel god, hoping to attain Frost’s forgiveness. They realized allying themselves with the followers of Riliandra was a mistake and desperately wanted to show Frost they weren’t his enemies.
“Fucking cowards,” Slade said while appearing next to Frost.
“They tried to hurt my babies,” Slakka said quietly as a group of nearby soldiers fell to the ground coughing up blood as Slakka sighed disappointedly. “They should all die.”
“No shit,” Slade eyed up the civilians and flipped his knife playfully as if trying to decide where to begin. “They were perfectly willing to harbor these fucks but they’re not willing to die with them.”
“Herald Frost,” Lysandra said judgmentally as the citizens rounded up the few remaining soldiers. “There is no good that can come of killing innocent civilians.”
“What about guilty ones?” Frost asked as the last twenty or so ambushers were rounded up and tossed in the middle of the square. The villagers looked on nervously as they waited to find out if the soldiers were enough to buy their forgiveness. “Should they just be given a pass?”
“Frost,” Desdemona rushed beside him and tugged on his arm. He made the mistake of glancing down and had to look away from her bloodstained face. “You shouldn’t kill civilians. My brother says…”
“I’m not going to kill them,” Frost said while avoiding eye contact. Kissing her was going to be hard enough after seeing her scarf down a person without also remembering her gory face. “I’d have to kill the entire fucking city and while I’m not opposed to them dying, it’s a lot of fucking work.”
“I’d be more than happy to do it,” Slade said while smiling at a timid looking merchant. “Fuck, I’ll do it for five fucking rel a head. Ten for children, I’m not a fucking monster.”
“Brynn,” Frost turned to his wife as she continued to play her flute. “Is five rel a head a good price?”
“You’re not going to kill the entire city handsome,” Brynn said sternly. “You’re not that kind of bastard.”
“I wouldn’t be killing them,” Frost argued. “Slade would.”
“You’re not paying somebody to kill the entire city,” Brynn laughed. “Especially since we both know it’d be my money.”
“There’s your answer,” Frost shrugged while glaring at the terrified civilians. The captured soldiers dropped their weapons and quickly began begging for their lives. “As for the rest of you, you tried to kill me. Which, fine. It’s like I told Duke Raullon, I respect a smart move and I’m not going to fault you for it. But you tried to kill the children of my followers. Can you give me a good reason not to kill the type of person who’d kill children?”
