Chapter 119 119. Battle Of Mist I
Sphinx Town
The town was working as well as ever. The people came together to cook a lot of soup in large containers. They could not afford a lot of vegetables or meat, so they just mushed whatever meat and vegetables they could into a paste, put some herbs and spices, and cooked it all. At least it would be edible with the bread the people in the camp were making.
Felix was helping as well, as the temporary kitchen was set in front of the Monastery, and there was no other priest right now since the two men working for the fake Archpriest were locked in the dungeons.
“You fool, if you fall in that pot, you’ll die a death worse than my third cousin’s uncle.” Felix scolded Shane, the boy wanting to help at all times.
“What if you fell?” Shane asked curiously.
Felix scoffed and proudly took away the large spatula and sat beside the boiling pot that could probably cook a whole bull in one go. “I am a powerful knight. Such low temperatures can’t hurt me. See this.”
Felix took out a little bit of soup from the pot and drank it right away. “See—I’m as good as ever.”
Shane’s eyes shined as he felt excited about what the future held for him. “I will become like you and Priest Sylvester as well! Do you want to listen to my favorite hymn?”
Felix’s face fell. “Kid, you’ve sung ten times already. But fine, some entertainment is better than no entertainment.”
Shane coughed and tried to imitate how Sylvester sang.
A mighty man from the land of giant sandwall b𝚍no𝚟l.
He is the one knight that stands above all
God has graced him with everything
He’s a man with a lot of daring.?
First comes in his glossary—debauchery
With light, he may stand—dark he is morally.
Run—pretty ladies—run from his lechery
Or his lust shall become your en-encephalopathy.?
“How am I doing, Priest Felix? Do I sound like Priest Sylvester?” Shane innocently asked.
He didn’t notice the frowning face of the Knight of Sandwall, the temporary preacher of the light. Felix knew who this song was made for. There was no other man nearby from the land of the giant sand wall.
“Shane, do you know what debauchery means?”
Shane shook his head. “No, I wanted to ask you that. Also, the last word… what was it?”
Felix patted Shane’s head. “You little sweetling—you need not know that. Care to tell me who gave you this hymn?”
“Oh, Priest Sylvester wrote it down for me yesterday. He said you would be the best judge of it…do you also know this hymn?”
Felix clenched his teeth as veins popped on his head. ‘You want it this way, Max? Fine, the game is on then… let’s do it.’
“Do you want a hymn from me as well?”
“Yes!” Shane agreed immediately. After all, the more, the merrier.
So Felix wrote down a hymn in the notebook and handed it back. “Read it later. By the way, you’re writing your own hymns as well?”
Shane nodded proudly as he embarrassingly smiled. “Of course! I want to be like Priest Sylvester one day… so I need to master the hymns and the violin.”
“Great! Another bard. Put the book away now. It’s time we get the food to those refugees.”
So they all prepared large metal containers with lids and started to lower them with rope on the other side of the wall. It took a lot of time as there were many people to feed. And since it was nearly afternoon, the heat was becoming unbearable.
PAA!
However, just then, some warning horns resounded in the vicinity, originating from the camp’s far north side.
“Fuck! It’s an attack!” Van Sigurd, the head of the refugee camp, cursed as he noticed a rising cloud of desert dust in the distance.
Felix, however, boomed in excitement as he unsheathed his longsword from the back. “Yes! Finally, something interesting! Sigurt, prepare your men for battle—I will hold them back.”
Felix looked at the people on the wall. “It’s afternoon. Don’t you all have to nap? Go on. I will handle this! Shane, you return to Monastery too, and stay away from the patients!”
Thud!
Felix jumped off the town’s wall and grinned ear to ear as he saw the raiders. There were at least a hundred, and most of them were on horses.
“Booming Slash!” He roared the name of his first attack just to catch the attention of the raiders.
Then Felix waved his swarved horizontally towards the enemies at such speed and magically imbued that when it completed the arc, it sent out a visible wave of air and a loud sonic boom. The wave of air was a literal arc, sharp as his sword.
Woosh!
It effortlessly connected with the enemies at the head’s level. In an instant, two dozen men got beheaded by a single attack from Felix—this was the power of a man with magic or knightly talents against commoners.
Not stopping, Felix jumped six feet into the air and then slammed the blade of his sword to the ground while using Earth rune magic.
Boom!
The ground split open from where his sword touched and expanded to where the raiders were. This one didn’t kill people, but it scared or tripped a few horses, killing a few and turning them into meat for the refugees.
The raiders were in total chaos as they noticed their brethren falling or beheaded. It spread panic amongst their ranks.
Felix was not satisfied, however, and tried to reach the raiders. However, he soon stopped as an angry frown took over his face. “No! Don’t run away! Fight me… please… I’m bored!”
And by the time Van Sigurd arrived with the ragtag team, Felix was already returning to the town with a dejected look. “Just go and eat your food… I’m going to pray.”
And that’s how the legend of the Mad Sword Felix started in the desolate lands of the Highland Kingdom.
…
However, things were not as cheerful or kind in the valley of toxic mist.
There were countless zombies around the whole region, some even so far the team could not see them due to the mist. They all still had their clothes, albeit torn from a few places. Though their eyes appeared dead as there was no light of the living visible, they seemed to not react to anything and just stayed standing.
What actually shook their hearts more was that there were little kids and babies, too, from little months old to mere toddlers. The little babies who never got to grow enough to walk were still there, on the ground, just wagging their legs and arms while being chewed by the monster snakes.
Sylvester didn’t complain as that kept the snakes busy and gave them time to head further into the valley. But one thing was for sure. They were never going to forget the scenes from today.
However, Sylvester wondered, “Have you seen any scenes worse than this before?”
Bishop Lazark nodded. “Once, when I was further south, I investigated a powerful necromancer who had killed an entire town of five thousand people and then controlled them as if they were real people. He would lure rich traders in, make the zombies attack them, and take the money. It was… haunting… But the gore here is what makes this worse.”
Cough!
Sir Dolorem was still coughing from time to time as he spoke. “Let’s try not to be like them—focus on the path.”
It was not needed, for Sylvester’s senses told them more than their eyes could at this moment. But at least they now had the zombies to attract the snakes away so they could walk deeper into.
Sylvester was also keeping track of everyone in the group. Their emotions told a lot to him. Sir Dolorem was not scared at all. Instead, he had a sense of hope and anger. While Bishop Lazark seemed excited and disgusted… Only Gabriel was a bit scared and saddened.
‘How long mu-‘
Just in the middle of his thought, he felt the feeling of death increasing at a maddening pace, and since they had not moved too fast, that only meant one thing. “Prepare for battle! It’s coming!”
Woosh!
Bam!
Sylvester was thrown away instantly as something clashed with his spear at superior strength. All he noticed was a giant shadow, at least nine feet tall.
He quickly got to his feet and shouted orders to maintain the battle formation. “Take out your light crystals, hang them around your waist, and start throwing out the explosive crystals! We need to clear out the mist.”
But, sadly, the purple mist only seemed to increase with the arrival of the protagonist of these mountains.
“Wraaaaa!”
A deafening scream resounded and echoed through the valley. That alone was enough to sink their brave hearts and question their own sanity.
“Bishop, keep track of all your zombies. If you sense them getting killed too fast in any one direction, then shout which direction. Gabriel, stand behind me and cover me. Sir Dolorem, please give cover to Bishop with Solarium and Light Crystals. Do not stop emitting light! I repeat…”
“NORTH!” Bishop Lazark shouted.
Sylvester bit his lips and quickly threw two IED bombs towards the north. ‘Just get hit already, creature.’
[Editor’s note: Li-Fi Bombs (Light-Fire) are now IED (Improvised Explosive Device)]
“Duck!” Sylvester shouted as he felt the feeling of death peaking again. With that, he now knew he had the best sensor to know which direction the bloodling was, albeit it only gave him a second to respond.
Bishop Lazark asked, appearing to be scared now as he stuttered. “Do you have any plans on how to kill it?”
“Yes! But for that, we first need to know which direction it’s coming from and place the bombs. I didn’t know this thing would be so fast… but the plan remains. First, I will use the Earth element to stop or slow it down.” Sylvester replied and prepared to hit with his spear. This was the moment he felt he could have used the ability to control the spear’s length.
“East!” Bishop Lazark exclaimed.
Sylvester was ready this time and instantly threw five IED bombs in that direction.
Woosh!
However, the Bloodling still arrived, and this time, something happened as Sylvester felt pain in his bleeding right arm. He looked at it and cursed loudly. “Fuck! It pierced through my armor! And how in the hell did it come from the West instead?”
They were utterly blind, stuck inside the dome of light they had created inside the dense dark mist. They were eating through their solarium reserves like water, and their fight had not even started.
Cough! Cough!
“Sir Dolorem!” Sylvester ran to the man while keeping his light, even intensifying it. “It seems your mask is not working properly! Take mine.”
Sylvester, without wasting a moment, took off his mask. Sir Dolorem jumped to his feet in fright, however, angered, too. “You foolish boy! Your life is worth a thousand of mine! Keep your mask to yourself, I will survive.”
Sylvester was honestly touched, but he still took it off. “It’s okay—for I have a mask that the lord gave me from birth—my hymns.”
Indeed, as soon as Sylvester took off the mask, a bright halo appeared behind his head, and it acted like a mini filter that didn’t allow any toxin to come closer to his face as it emitted a strange aura. There was something different in the halo than the normal light since this also sometimes gives him a power buff.
“Wear it!” He shoved the mask at Sir Dolorem and prepared to hunt for this thing, as he felt much more open now with better vision.
Boom!
Without wasting a moment, Sylvester threw an IED Bomb in a direction while keeping his spear ready to point towards the incoming Bloodling.
Crunch!
Sylvester looked down, a snake had somehow gotten there, and he killed it with ease.
“Wraaaa!”
Just then, a scream of the Bloodling also resounded in the distance. Sylvester was alerted yet felt elated. He looked to the side and noticed a few more snakes, so he quickly stomped over them.
“Wreeeeaaa!”
“Oh!” Sylvester smiled. “Everyone… I don’t know how, but these snakes are somehow connected with that Bloodling, and if we kill them, the Bloodling shouts. So you know what to do.”
However, Sylvester didn’t take into account the speed of his enemy. “Duck!”
One did not do it this time.
“Argh! Holy Solis! Priest… help…!”
Sylvester looked towards Bishop Lazark and noticed the man being taken away by the Bloodling. Unfortunately, it was still very fast to see anything, and by the time they could react, the bloodling had taken off into the mist.
But Sylvester cursed louder than ever before as he only noticed one thing about the Bloodling that disturbed him to no end—something that changed everything about this fight. “Holy fucking Solis! We’re not prepared for this! Fuck!”
[A/N: Illustration of Demon in next chappy.]
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