CHAPTER ASHBORN 422: BEST SERVED ON A PLATTER

It was perhaps a good thing that the Bairan Ultimate Art was so difficult to master. Or that the Bairans restricted its bestowal so heavily. For weight was a mighty thing, and while the Chitran Demonic Overlord may grant its user supreme power over others in a military formation, all beings were beholden to their own weight.

And when two beings boasting the power happened to be in the same area—an almost unheard of occurrence—and when these beings were on the same side and deployed the art simultaneously… The results were quite spectacular indeed.

Vir doubted they identified him before he slipped into a shadow, if they saw him at all.

He’d not only dropped straight down upon them from the airship above, as an added distraction, he’d asked Nayan to release his remaining bomb payload all at once. Between the Chitran kothis darting around desperately trying to dodge the falling bombs, not to mention Cirayus’ continued threat to the army, Vir doubted even the most talented Demonic Overlord wielder could handle so much.

Vir was proven right when he emerged from Matiman’s shadow. The Chitran Raja boasted a cadre of elite guards, of course—all of whom were under the influence of Demonic Overlord.

Ever since he’d heard of that ability, Vir had loathed the day Saunak would eventually carve it upon his body. Voluntary or not, to take command of someone else’s body was a violation that disgusted him at every level, and once he had it, he swore to never use it unless he was given no other choice.

The ability came with many downsides. While it granted its wielder a level of omniscience impossible to otherwise achieve, it created many blind spots. For what good was the ability to see everything when one could only focus their mind on one thing at a time?

Matiman didn’t even see his attack coming. Though even if he did, it would hardly have mattered, because Cirayus knew what Vir had in mind and had already activated Balancer of Scales at its maximum capacity, focusing on Matiman and the troops immediately around him. Concentrated to this degree, even those fierce warriors—Chitran’s best—found their movements sluggish.

But it was when Vir activated his own Balancer of Scales that knees buckled and weapons fell from the kothis’ hands, rendering them barely able to stand, let alone fight.

Even so, Vir moved as swiftly as he could, activating Blink the instant he was out of the shadow. The distance was only a pace or two, but the explosive power of the art super accelerated Vir’s Prana Bladed katar, allowing it to penetrate Matiman’s heavy armor, piercing through his spine to emerge out the front of his chest.

“Your reign of tyranny has ended, Matiman. For Garga,” Vir muttered into the dying kothi’s ear. “For Maion. For Shari and all those whose lives you mercilessly ended. Today, you die by the hands of the child you so desperately sought to kill. Today, your clan falls. May history remember you as the force of evil you were.”

Matiman shuddered, but with his spine severed, he could only look up at Vir as the light left his eyes.

Vir pulled his katar out, allowing the Chitran raja’s corpse to fall to the ground. For so long, he had envisioned this moment. His dreams had been plagued by the epic fight they would have. Of Vir, fighting alone against an army of one. Of being skewered by a hundred swords.

As was so often the case, reality betrayed his expectations. For several moments, Vir simply stared at Matiman’s corpse. The Raja was dead. Samar Patag was nearly his. The plan had gone off without a hitch thus far, and while Vir didn’t dare presume victory until he sat upon the throne once the Chitran had been ousted, he had to wonder.

Was Greesha wrong?

The nagging thought had eaten at the edge of Vir’s mind for weeks now, growing more insidious with each passing day. Where was the burning city? Where was the total loss?

Vir refused to believe it. While others might’ve allowed their ego to go to their head, Vir had been humbled far too many times to think he was better. Greesha’s prophecies always came true. He had to assume that the worst would come to pass.

And yet, maybe there was hope. Cities could always be rebuilt, so long as the people remained. And with the Chitran Raja now lying dead before him, Vir was confident he and his forces could mop up whoever remained.

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A sudden jolt on his shoulder broke Vir out of his stupor. Someone had been calling his name.

“Lad! Get a hold of yourself!”

Vir blinked, only now noticing the rampant chaos that surrounded him. The battlefield was a din of shrieks and screams as kothis trampled one another, each going their own separate way, their prior cohesion having vanished without a trace.

“Too dangerous here,” Cirayus said, picking Vir up and jumping high above the chaos with Balancer of Scales.

“What’s happening?” Vir asked.

“What always happens when their connection’s forcibly severed. Those under the influence do not simply go back to being themselves. Not with Demonic Overlord. Not for some time. They won’t come to their senses for a while yet.”

“Then you should have no trouble mopping them up.”

Cirayus’ expression darkened. “Aye. That I will. You should go. You still have a city to take, after all.”

Vir glanced back at Samar Patag and nodded. “Have you seen Annas, by any chance?”

Cirayus looked around. “Odd, he was just here. Look, over there, in the distance.”

Riding off into the horizon was a lone demon. “I would bet good coin on that being our errant Chitran,” Cirayus said. “Shall I pursue him?”

Vir shook his head. “No, I need you here to mop up the remains of the army while they’re still vulnerable. Nor can I head after him. He matters not at this point. I will deal with that coward another day.”

“A wise decision,” sounded a melodic voice from above. Vir looked up to find Ashani floating down from the airship he had jumped from.

“Impeccable timing, as always,” Vir said with a smile, which Ashani returned.

“Always. Now, do you intend to chat all day? Or would you like to liberate a city? I must say, the latter sounds far more exciting.”

Vir’s smile widened. “Let’s go.”

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To Vir’s immense surprise, the gates of Samar Patag opened as he drew nearer. The reason was clear. Standing on the walls’ ramparts were not kothis, but Gargans. His troops.

Vir jumped up onto the wall’s ramparts, followed by Ashani, who floated up with her usual grace.

Their arrival elicited the usual response, with the bowing, taking of knees, and even some prostrating—hardly appropriate behavior for the middle of a battlefield. But Vir had fought and decidedly lost this battle, and so accepted his fate, for better or worse.

Besides, they had done a remarkable job of killing the Chitran defenders. That was of little surprise—the wall guards’ attention had been turned outward, completely unaware that their allies on the inside had been systematically destroyed, and that Gargans had occupied structures at every strategic intersection in the city. Not to mention that the detail that had been left behind was small. How could anyone attack the walls with the army fighting out in the field just beyond?

Their assumptions had been their undoing. What was a surprise, however, was the demon who commanded them.

“Raoul, I recall tasking you with the rescue of the remaining Panav,” Vir said, suspicion already bleeding into his thoughts. “Why are you here?”

“The Panav have all been freed, Akh Nara,” Raoul said, meeting Vir’s gaze for the first time since he could remember. “I reasoned that waiting idly by after was not a good use of my talents, and so I took the liberty of assuming command of the forces responsible for storming the wall. Good thing I did, too. Their attack was much too sloppy, their movements uncoordinated. Many casualties would have ensued.”

Vir glanced doubtfully at the soldiers who flanked him. “Is what he says true?”

One after another, they nodded, shouting their agreement and support.

“Lord Raoul channeled your divinity, Akh Nara, guiding us to victory.”

“We swept the walls like wraiths from the Ash,” another said, pumping a fist, which elicited a round of cheers.

“I see,” Vir said slowly. “Casualties?”

“Minor,” Raoul replied, waving away Vir’s concerns. “None dead, a handful sent back to the Bairan camp via your Gate for healing. The Chitrans proved no match for our might.”

Vir nodded. “Well done, then.” Distracted and under-manned though they might have been, to have retaken the walls without a single loss was beyond impressive, and could only have been done with exemplary leadership.

Raoul bowed deeply. “I live to serve, my Akh Nara.”

Vir just barely suppressed a scoff. More like you live to serve whoever benefits you the most…

A mercenary though Raoul might be, Vir had to admit, he’d done a fine job. More than fine. After conferring with Raoul and his Iksana spies, Vir learned that most of the city had already been taken.

‘Taken’ being a relative term—with the Chits so focused on the battle outside, most of his troops met with no resistance at all. Gargan civilians had already been evacuated, and so there was little worry of innocents getting caught up in the crossfire.

Vir’s forces had methodically stormed and fortified every building they had rehearsed in the Ash, and most now found themselves idling by, wondering when the fight would arrive.

With just a bit more luck, it never would. But whether or not that occurred depended on this one last act.

“The true test has yet to come,” Vir said, briefing Raoul and the demons gathered in the building they’d established as a forward base. “While Raja Matiman has been killed—”

A round of cheers and hoots interrupted him, forcing Vir to wait until the fervor had passed.

“Yes, Matiman is dead, but our Iksana friends tell me that the garrison fortifying the castle is impressive. They’ve dug their heels deep, no doubt intending to make a last stand. We must not underestimate them. They will have seen the result of the battle to the south. They will know the city has fallen. This makes them desperate. And a desperate demon is the most dangerous. I will storm the castle and open the gates from within. Then… Then, the true battle for Samar Patag begins. I hope you are ready, my brothers and sisters, for the greatest challenge of our lives looms before us.”