meant nothing to him. Their weapons were nothing as well. Spears and swords clacked off his armor, but they would not pierce flesh. One after another he cut them down, severing them into pieces. The bodies of his foes crashed off his body, even their momentum nothing to him. Ashhur’s will was done.
Aurelia stared with mouth agape, for not a single demon had survived. Jerico stretched as high above a demon hurled his spear.
“Easy enough,” he said.
His eyes opened wide as the spear punched through his platemail, into his back, and out through his underarm. Aurelia shouted his name as he fell to his knees, only his shield propping his body to a sitting.
“Easy,” he gasped, the pain incredible. “Easy.”
His head slumped and his eyes closed.
“Jerico!” Lathaar shouted, turning toward his friend.
“Hold your post,” Aurelia shouted. Furious he turned to her, but she did not back down. Instead she pointed to the line of fleeing peoples still over three hundred in number. “Hold your post, or all of them will die,” she said. The fury in his eyes shifted to understanding. He nodded.
“Ashhur be with us all,” he said, turning back to the demons that circled the sky. The only other of his kind lay dying, and he could only turn his back and guard his charge. The light on his blades lessened, and he felt their weight once more.
H aern led the way down the line, a blur of gray in the dim light. Many of the war demons had landed, preferring solid ground over tumultuous wind. Despite their valor, Antonil’s men were falling, exhausted and outmatched in skill. The demons that punched through slaughtered men and women, soaking themselves in the blood of innocents. Haern leapt into the air, landing on the back of one demon with an elderly woman hanging limp from his spear. His sabers sliced the arteries in the demon’s neck. As the demon fell he leapt again, ten feet up the hill atop a second. He landed with all his weight on the demon’s neck, snapping bone.
Harruq followed in a less precise manner. He barreled through combat, not fearing the swords of either man or demon. Condemnation and Salvation tore through crimson armor, spilling an even darker shade across the red mail. When he saw two demons assaulting a soldier cowering behind his shield, he roared and slammed his shoulder into the nearest. As the demon flew he planted his foot and swung, severing the second at the waist. Harruq gave the soldier no time to thank him before he was off, chasing Haern up the hill.
“Wait up, damn it,” he shouted. “I’m not a leaping frog like you are!”
He caught movement from the corner of his eye. Instinctively he braced his shoulders, turning to one side as a spear skewered where he had been. The attacking demon slammed straight into him, and in a mass of muscle and armor they rolled, crushing a hapless man in their way. Harruq growled as the demon scowled behind his helmet.
“Thulos will burn your world to ash for this cowardice,” the demon said. He tried to strike with his spear but Harruq pinned his arm with his knee.
“You’re the one attacking unarmed men and women,” Harruq said. The demon’s body pinned Condemnation underneath him, but Salvation was free. The problem was the demon gripped Harruq’s wrist and held back the killing thrust. Slowly the tip quivered in the air.
“You’re strong, and you speak the god’s tongue,” the demon said. Veins pulsed underneath the scars across his face. “Pull back your blade and join us. We have positions of honor for your kind.”
Harruq laughed, but amid his struggling it sounded more like a cough.
“I’ll tell you what I told Qurrah. Not…gonna…happen!”
Down went the tip, through flesh, past bone, and into dirt. The demon’s arms went limp. Harruq pulled himself free, yanking out his swords in the process.
“Getting so tired of people trying to recruit me,” he said. “And in the middle of battle for god’s sake.”
He turned to the portal and ran.
K ing Antonil ducked his head as a spear thudded into a shield held by one of his men. His heart was heavy for he could see just how many of his soldiers lay dead. Even worse, the men, women, and children he had sworn to protect. Blood soaked the hill, the bodies of the slain a barrier needing climbed. His horse charged across the grass as he swung his sword at any nearby enemy. In spite of his exhaustion, his guilt, and his sorrow, he shouted for all to hear.
“Keep climbing! Keep running! To the portal, to safety, do not stop! Do not stop!”
A war demon slammed to the ground before him and swung his glaive. Antonil jerked the reigns, and without hesitation his horse jumped. A sharp neigh filled the air as the glaive tore flesh, but nothing stopped the enormous weight from crashing atop the demon. As his body crumpled beneath the hooves he heard the labored breathing of his horse turn into a dying whinny.
“I’m sorry,” he said as he dismounted. The horse’s front legs collapsed, a giant pool of blood covering the ground below. The king looked about the darkened hill. The clouds had turned even thicker so that it seemed night had fallen. There were no torches, no starlight, just the brilliant blue glow of the portal. He trudged toward it, but three demons landed before him with their swords and axes drawn. They saw his crown and knew they found a chance for glory.
Antonil saluted, determined to kill at least one before he died. He was never given the chance. A bolt of lightning shot past the king, hitting the first demon in the eye before leaping into the chest of the second and the throat of the third. All three fell, wisps of smoke rising from their bodies.
“Hope I wasn’t intruding,” Tarlak said as he grabbed Antonil’s wrist and pulled him on. “Now let’s leave before their friends show up.”
King Antonil followed the yellow robes as if they were light in a giant fog. All around he saw chaos, men missing limbs and women bleeding from giant gashes across their arms and chests. Some were armed. Most weren’t. Climbing adjacent the trail of bodies he saw the four members of the Ash Guild, a deadly combination of daggers and death magic striking down any demon who dared near. They offered no aid to the wounded or those in combat, only pressing onward toward the portal, toward escape.
“How many have made it through,” Antonil asked as they neared the top of the hill.
“Can’t say for sure,” Tarlak said, his eyes constantly darting about in search of threats. “At least half. More than half, actually, maybe a lot more. Hundreds at least. Watch your head.”
He hurled another bolt of lightning, a joyless smile on his face as he pegged a demon out of the air. With the vast bulk of the Veldaren people escaped, the rest of the demons had taken to circling above, preparing one last assault on Mira and the portal.
“How does she still stand?” Antonil asked, shaking his head. Near a hundred corpses surrounded her, the vast bulk wearing the crimson armor of Thulos. Lathaar stood at her side, his weapons tipped to the dirt, his eyes scanning the sky. When the Ash Guild arrived he saluted them. They did not salute back. Instead, they dived through the portal, their part of the battle finished. The king shook his head, disappointed but understanding. It was not cowardice that caused them to leave, just self-preservation.
Antonil heard a primal roar from the half-orc. He glanced back, in awe of the sight. Harruq was soaked in blood. Cuts covered his arms and hands, yet he grinned with a maniacal glee. The demons seemed to have labeled him as a special prey, for while all around him men, women, and even soldiers hurried to the portal unabated, wave after wave dove for Harruq. The half-orc took them in stride, slamming them away with his powerful swords. As Antonil watched, Harruq sidestepped a thrust, beheaded the attacking demon, took two steps back, and then buried both his swords into another demon’s chest. Even as he flung the body away another took its place, striking downward with a gigantic axe.
Swords together he blocked the blow, grinning even as the muscles in his arms twitched. He muttered something, but Antonil couldn’t hear it. Then the axe shook, its haft shattered, and Harruq struck down the demon.
“We have little time,” Tarlak said, pointing upward. The demons were forming ranks. It would not be long before more waves descended. They looked to the king. “Go through,” Tarlak said. “The people will need you.”
“I will not abandon those still here,” Antonil said. “I will defend to the death if I must.”
“I thought you’d say that,” Tarlak said. He snapped his fingers. A sudden gust of wind roared to life. An invisible force pushed up on his feet, stealing any chance he had to resist. Cursing the wizard’s name, Antonil flew through the portal and vanished.
“Don’t get me wrong,” Tarlak said as Lathaar shook his head at him. “Honor and pride has its place, but I’m
