CASSIAN AND THE INFINITE THRONE

CASSIAN AND THE INFINITE THRONE

Volume 1: The Frontier Years

Chapter 30: The Stronger Humans

Nobody answered Ironclaw immediately, and the silence became another contest neither side wished to lose carelessly. Joren kept his sword low, refusing to offer darkness an impatient movement.

“Those humans were stronger than the first ones you killed,” Joren said. “We are stronger than them, and we came here intending to kill you.”

Frein shifted his damaged shoulder beneath Selene’s unfinished restoration and murmured, “Straight to killing, then. At least everyone understands the plan.”

“The plan was settled before we entered the forest,” Joren replied, keeping his eyes on the trunks. “Pretending otherwise would only teach it that humans lie before attacking.”

Lyra’s fingers tightened around her staff, though excitement still pushed against fear inside her chest. It understands bargaining language, threats, hierarchy, and challenge. How much more has it learned since Frostwood?

I wanted answers because knowledge should reduce fear, yet every answer from this creature creates another reason to fear its mind. Curiosity has never felt so much like standing near an open blade.

The voice came from somewhere downhill, rough and deliberate. “Strong humans say kill me. First humans make brave noises too. Then frightened noises start. Then all noises stop.”

Frein’s mouth pulled sideways. “I hate its voice,” he said. “It sounds too pleased with itself.”

“Be careful with that,” Lucan muttered. “Keep answering and it may learn vanity from you.” His bow remained drawn halfway, enough for a quick shot without exhausting his arms.

Lyra leaned slightly toward Joren. “Let me ask one question before this becomes impossible. We may never get another chance to hear an answer.”

Joren wanted to refuse immediately because each answer kept exposing them. One question might still give us something useful. After that, I end it.

“One question,” he said. “After that, nobody volunteers information because curiosity becomes another trail when the listener is intelligent enough.”

Lyra raised her voice without moving from formation. “Why did you leave survivors after the expedition? You could have killed every person there.”

The forest remained still long enough that Frein glanced toward Lucan. Then Ironclaw answered, “Dead humans carry no words. Living humans carry fear. Fear brings stronger humans.”

Selene felt cold settle beneath her ribs despite the remaining summer warmth. It did not spare them from mercy or hunger. It used wounded people as messengers because suffering traveled farther than tracks.

Lyra’s next question rose behind her teeth, but Joren stopped her with one glance. She exhaled and whispered, “I know. I agreed to one.”

Ironclaw spoke again, closer or merely louder. “Red-haired human wants more words. Sword human stops her. Sword human leads five.”

Joren’s stomach tightened as the meaning settled in. It found the leader before showing itself. This conversation is already part of the fight.

Roland’s expedition learned what it was after men were already dying. We came warned, and it still found our command structure before showing itself. That is bad enough.

“Formation holds,” Joren said quietly. “No one answers it now. Lucan watches elevation, Lyra prepares ground denial, Selene maintains support, and Frein keeps that shoulder honest.”

Frein rolled the joint experimentally and winced. “It still moves,” he said. “That is enough for now.”

“It moves because I stabilized it,” Selene said. “Test it carelessly again and I will stop you myself.”

A tree cracked somewhere below the rise, followed by a violent rush of branches. Lucan turned his bow toward the sound, but Joren watched the opposite slope.

Too obvious, Lucan thought. It wants someone looking downhill, but expecting a trick can become another trick. I need the ground, not the performance.

Animals leave signs because they must. This thing can choose what to show us, and that makes every true sign dangerous in a different way.

The first attack was not Ironclaw’s body. A broken trunk came spinning from darkness, heavy enough to kill anyone struck cleanly and broad enough to split their formation.

“Get down and move inward!” Joren ordered, while Frein stepped toward the projectile instead of away. Vital Force tightened through his body, shoulders, hips, legs, and shield arm simultaneously.

Frein caught the trunk on the shield at an angle rather than stopping it directly. Wood exploded across the slope while the redirected mass tore past Selene and vanished downhill.

Pain flashed through his damaged shoulder despite reinforcement. It threw the tree to see what I would do. Now it knows I turn force aside instead of stopping it.

Lyra had already begun a shortened Low incantation, her voice clear and fast.

The ground below them shifted into an uneven field of ridges and collapsing pockets. She finished within seconds, creating obstruction without spending the mana required for a stronger binding spell.

Nothing charged through it. Instead, Ironclaw’s laughter came as a coarse sequence of sounds, almost human and therefore worse. “Red-haired human makes ground bad. I remember earth words.”

Lyra swallowed and whispered, “That spell was not used against it before.”

“Maybe not,” Lucan said. “The structure is different, but the words still announce earth before the ground changes. It may only need categories.”

Joren made the decision before discomfort could become paralysis. “We move north along the ridge. Staying fixed lets it choose every angle, but nobody leaves ten paces.”

They advanced together through the pines at a guarded pace. Ironclaw remained unseen, while movement below kept Lucan’s attention divided.

It asked for stronger humans, yet it keeps watching instead of rushing us, Joren thought. If we stay careful, it learns. If we rush, it chooses the ground.

I do not have a clean answer. Keep moving, keep formation, and deny it the easiest mistake.

Ironclaw attacked when the ridge narrowed around a granite outcrop. One moment the right flank held only darkness; the next, armored mass erupted between two pines.

“Right side, brace together!” Joren shouted, and the company moved before thought could separate them. Frein turned his shield while Joren crossed behind his front shoulder.

Joren drove Vital Force through his body as Ironclaw closed. His footing hardened, his reactions sharpened, and the Caelsteel blade became an extension of the same movement.

A small Veyrite reserve sealed inside the sword’s pommel released stored mana into the Mithril channels, awakening the enchantment without drawing from Joren’s Vital Force.

Ironclaw’s forelimb struck Frein’s shield like a falling siege weight. Frein angled the impact, yielded three deliberate steps, and still left trenches beneath his boots.

The fourth step failed. He flew backward into the granite outcrop, but maintained reinforcement through impact and rolled away before Ironclaw’s jaws closed.

“Still moving,” Frein gasped as he forced himself upright. “The shoulder hurts more.”

“Then stop wasting breath and let me work,” Selene said, already beginning an incantation while moving closer.

Restorative mana flowed through Frein’s shoulder without fully healing it. Selene repaired fresh damage, reduced bleeding, and stabilized the joint while deliberately leaving older strain unfinished.

Ironclaw’s head turned toward her voice before the healing completed. Joren saw the change immediately and understood before the creature moved. It has connected her incantation with wounded allies.

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“Lucan, take the eye line! Lyra, interrupt its approach!” Joren ordered, rushing between Selene and the descending head while Lucan released from higher ground.

The arrow struck one reddish-orange eye plate but glanced away from the protected angle. Ironclaw recoiled enough for Lyra to continue a faster Middle incantation.

Three stone ribs erupted beneath Ironclaw’s front legs. The creature broke the first, stepped over the second, then lost half a stride against the third.

Frein stepped into the opening and drove his hammer forward with both hands. Vital Force ran through the weapon, and the Kharadite-heavy head struck as one brutal extension of his body.

The blow landed behind Ironclaw’s left foreleg. Armor cracked with a sound like splitting slate, and the creature turned so violently that its tail demolished a young pine.

“Blood,” Lyra said, unable to hide the fierce satisfaction in her voice. “We opened the plate. The fracture line extends toward the lower joint.”

“Celebrate while moving,” Joren answered. “It still has three good limbs, one enormous mouth, and a tail that just killed a tree accidentally.”

Ironclaw withdrew and stared at them. Blood darkened the damaged plate, but intelligence remained more visible than pain.

We hurt it, Joren thought. The plate actually cracked, and Frein did it without losing formation. That means our plan can work.

I need them confident, but not eager. One wound is evidence, not victory, and Ironclaw is still watching all five of us.

“That armor can break,” Frein said, breathing hard. “We hit that place again.”

“A remarkably sophisticated tactical contribution,” Lyra said. “Try not to sound proud while I agree with you.”

Ironclaw’s head tilted slightly. “Hammer human makes noise when afraid. Red-haired human makes noise when curious. Sword human makes noise, others move.”

Nobody laughed after that. Frein’s expression flattened, and Lucan changed position without waiting for Joren because every spoken command now felt newly dangerous.

Joren kept his voice low. “Hand signs where visible. Words only when speed matters more than information. It is mapping roles, but roles are not the same as choices.”

Lucan nodded and moved uphill through broken stone. It already expects me above it. Abandoning high ground would be stupid, but climbing the same way twice would be worse.

I only need a different route to the same advantage. Let it search the ridge I used before.

He chose a lower lateral position instead, using two trunks to hide his line. Ironclaw’s eyes briefly searched the previous ridge, confirming enough to make Lucan uncomfortable.

Lyra began another earth incantation. Before she reached the second phrase, Ironclaw lunged sideways, not toward her position but toward the ground she had been watching.

She cut the spell before the structure stabilized. Mana recoiled through her internal pathways, bringing sharp pain from wrists to shoulders and a metallic taste into her mouth.

“It recognized the spell family,” Lyra breathed. “Not the exact spell, but enough words to predict where I intended to alter terrain.”

“Then change the question,” Joren said. “Use air from a different angle and let it discover the distinction after impact.”

Lyra smiled despite the pain. He did not waste time complaining about the failed spell. He gave me another target and expected me to adapt.

Air will cost more, but Ironclaw has not reacted to that incantation yet. I only need enough time to finish it once.

She began a longer incantation while Frein and Joren advanced together.

Ironclaw heard her voice and charged before the spell finished. This time Joren had expected exactly that, because predicting the prediction was the first advantage they still possessed.

Frein moved across the charge line rather than blocking directly. Joren struck the previously cracked plate, forcing Ironclaw to protect the damaged side for one heartbeat.

Lucan used that heartbeat. His arrow entered the exposed seam beneath the jaw, not deeply enough to kill, but enough to force the head upward.

Lyra completed the Advanced Air spell on her final phrase.

Compressed air struck Ironclaw broadside with a thunderous report. The enormous creature slid across stone, shattered one pine, and rolled partly onto its wounded side.

Lyra staggered after release, breathing hard. That cost too much. I can cast another Advanced spell, maybe two if I empty myself, and that would be stupid this early.

“Next time,” Lyra called after Frein, “try standing downhill before I rearrange half the forest for you.”

Joren followed, but did not commit blindly. “Frein, attack the plate and withdraw. Lucan keeps the jaw threatened. We take damage, not glory.”

Frein’s hammer struck the fractured armor once, then twice. Ironclaw twisted during the second impact, turning what should have been a clean break into a glancing fracture.

Its tail swept low. Frein jumped with Vital Force reinforcing his entire body, but the damaged shoulder delayed his balance correction by a fraction.

The tail caught his legs and threw him sideways. Selene saw the landing angle before anyone else and began a Defensive incantation rather than a healing one.

A translucent distortion spread beneath Frein before he hit the slope.

The spell absorbed enough impact to keep his spine intact, though it could not prevent bruising. Frein rolled once, pushed to one knee, and shouted, “I can stand. Keep watching the monster.”

“Then stand carefully,” Selene answered, relief sharpening her voice. I am spending too much on one body. If Ironclaw sees that, it will keep hurting him until I have nothing left.

Ironclaw looked toward her again. “Soft voice stops hurt. Soft voice makes hammer human stand again.”

Cold settled through Selene’s body. Joren reached the same conclusion and stepped closer to her position. “We change the pattern before it chooses the answer.”

It turns toward my voice whenever someone is hurt. I cannot stop casting, but I can change when I begin and where I stand while speaking.

Frein pushed himself upright. “Save the healing for later. Make me stronger now, while I can still move.”

Selene stared at him. “Your shoulder is stabilized, not restored. Magical enhancement will increase output without making damaged tissue honest about its condition.”

“Then make me stronger,” Frein said. “I will stop if the shoulder starts tearing again.”

Selene held his gaze for one moment, then nodded once and began the Enhancement incantation while Frein maintained whole-body Vital Force reinforcement.

The spell settled over him without visible radiance. Frein’s breathing deepened, his stance lowered, and every movement gained sudden acceleration his injured shoulder had not earned naturally.

The spell is pushing an already damaged body, Selene thought. His Vital Force may hold the frame together, but I need to watch that shoulder every second.

He is breathing too hard for someone pretending the pain is manageable. If the enhancement makes him careless, I may have to end it myself.

Joren saw Ironclaw watching Frein and made his decision. He signaled Lucan twice, then pointed Lyra toward the cracked plate without speaking.

Lucan moved first, deliberately exposing himself on lower ground. Ironclaw turned toward the apparent mistake and advanced, using a line that avoided Lyra’s previous earth patterns.

It expects me to climb again, Lucan thought. That helps me greatly. Let it keep looking upward while I work from below.

The lower angle is worse for me, but worse is not useless. One clean shot is enough if the head turns where I need it.

His first arrow targeted the damaged eye plate. Ironclaw turned its head exactly as expected, shielding the eye while exposing the lower jaw seam.

Frein accelerated with stacked Vital Force and Enhancement Magic. The ground cracked beneath his first step, and the second carried him inside Ironclaw’s turning radius.

His shield struck the wounded forelimb, not to stop the creature but to shift its balance. The magically enhanced impact created the opening Joren needed.

Joren entered beneath the raised head with Vital Force extending through his sword. He cut along the cracked armor seam instead of striking the strongest plate directly.

The Caelsteel blade penetrated deeper than before. Ironclaw roared, reared sideways, and exposed the spreading fracture to Lyra’s waiting Advanced incantation.

A dense spear of compressed earth and stone erupted from below at an angle. It struck the damaged plate, drove fragments inward, and opened a deep bleeding wound.

Ironclaw staggered for the first time. Lucan saw blood fall heavily onto stone, while Frein retreated before the tail could answer his earlier approach.

“We can kill it,” Lyra said, her voice smaller than triumph. “Not easily and not cleanly, but we can actually kill it.”

Joren wanted to agree because every piece of evidence supported her. The wound is deep. Lyra is right: we can kill it. That thought feels dangerous because I want it too much.

Do not chase the feeling. Keep reserves, watch the trees, and make the next decision from what it does, not from what I want.

“Then we continue intelligently,” he said. “Nobody spends the last reserve proving a point we have already established. We hurt it, and now we learn what it does while hurt.”

Ironclaw backed into the trees, leaving a dark trail across roots and stone. Frein started forward, then stopped himself without Joren needing to speak.

“That deserves recognition,” Lucan said. “You saw a wounded monster retreating and remained where you were. Personal growth has finally entered recorded history.”

Frein kept his eyes on the trees. “I stopped because it wants pursuit,” he said. “That does not mean I like standing here.”

The forest swallowed Ironclaw completely. Lyra controlled her breathing while Selene checked Frein’s Enhancement spell.

We drove it back, Lyra thought. I should be counting reserves and checking my hands, but I keep wondering what it understood while we were winning.

That frightens me more than I want to admit. I still want the answer, even while part of me hopes it never speaks again.

Ironclaw answered from the darkness. “Red-haired human speaks long, then air hits. Speaks strange words, ground moves. Soft voice speaks, hurt humans stand.”

Frein’s expression hardened at once. Selene felt her hands become cold, and Lucan slowly lowered his bow because the voice carried from a direction offering no useful shot.

Ironclaw continued, each phrase rough but deliberate. “Sword human speaks, five move. Bow human wants high ground. Hammer human protects soft voice when she speaks.”

Joren’s mind went still rather than calm. We proved we can wound it. It has been studying every way we do that.

We need new codes, new positions, and less repetition right now. Even that will only buy time, but time is enough for the next decision.

“Change command language now,” he said quietly. “Short codes we have never used. Lyra varies incantation selection, Selene avoids predictable treatment timing, and nobody repeats a formation twice.”

“That helps only until it learns the new system,” Lucan said. “We should assume every adaptation purchases time rather than safety.”

“I know that already,” Joren answered. “Time is still useful when the alternative is giving it certainty for free.”

From deeper in the trees came Joren’s own earlier phrase, reproduced badly but recognizably. “Right side, brace together.”

Frein narrowed his eyes at the darkness. Lucan said quietly, “I preferred it when our opponent only criticized Frein’s noise. Mimicking Joren is much more offensive.”

Joren raised one hand before anyone turned toward the spoken direction. It is not trying to command us. It is testing whether familiar words can steal attention.

Ironclaw repeated the command from the same darkness. This time a massive shape burst from the opposite flank, already moving before the final word reached them.

The Grey Lanterns had proven they could wound Ironclaw, survive its attacks, and force it backward. Now they faced something worse than wounded strength.

Every defense, incantation, command, and rescue had become information. The next phase would be fought against a creature reorganizing itself around their lessons.

End of Chapter 30