B4 Chapter 515: Tyrannomachy, pt. 1
Bit by bit, the last remnants of the Tyrant’s attackers fell to the cutting steel of Deadacre’s guards. It happened so quickly that Kaius barely got to kill anything — only burying his sword in the skull of a single over-sized wildcat before bare traces remained.
An uneasy silence fell over the wall, the Tyrant’s distant army weighing heavily on all who bore witness.
Kaius rolled his shoulders, letting out a heavy breath.
“I hate this part.” he said through his bond.
“The wait? Yeah, me too. Not much we can do about it other than be ready.”
He was ready. That was the problem. He had nothing to occupy himself other than wondering about grisly futures. Staring at the distant army, Kaius hoped it was a sign of the Tyrant’s coming. It had a blood debt to pay, one he intended to deliver personally.
Deep in his centre, his aspects pulsed, opening a wellspring of essence. It still wasn’t much compared to the roiling density of his Resource pools, but it was far more than before his refinement. A steady trickle, compared to his earlier motes.
A bloodsoaked hand clamped onto the edge of Deadacre’s wall, grabbing his attention. Before he could do anything more than blink, Ro hauled herself over the edge. She looked as exhausted and battleworn as the rest of them. Her leather and chain armour was torn in half a dozen places, and the few parts of it that weren’t soaked in blood were streaked with dirt and ash.
“You’re late,” the guild administrator deadpanned.
Kaius snorted, shaking his head.
“Seems like you had it well in hand. You didn’t mention that,” Kaius replied, nodding towards the army that had arrayed itself at the edge of the circle surrounding the city.
“I was a bit busy at the time,” Ro grunted, before she summoned a water skin to hand and took a long drink. “They were part of the attack when we last spoke — only pulled back ten minutes or so before you arrived.”
Kaius frowned; had it sensed their approach? Dross had said it could feel essence.
“What now?”
“We take the chance to recover, and we ready ourselves for whatever comes next. If nothing happens in the next half hour or so, we’re gathering the elites at the closest siege tower — I want us all to be ready if the Tyrant strikes.”
Sighing, Kaius gave her a nod. More inaction, perfect. Not that there was anything else they could do. Gods damn this siege, never in his life had he felt so…inconsequential. It was a feeling he despised — a restless tension that had been building all week.
He knew the siege would have gone far worse without them, and they’d been vital in taking out both the nightscale and the hivequeen. It was still a bitter pill to swallow when the city was in ruins, blood ran like rivers in the streets, and the very sky was choked by ash.
The solution was obvious — strength. He needed more of it, until nothing could threaten that which he cared about. Ascendancy would be his, no matter what it took.
A low murmur caught his attention. It rolled through the men surrounding him — less of a conversation, more of a series of soft gasps. They were staring out towards the Tyrant's army.
“By the Matriarchs, there it is.” Porkchop whispered, watching whatever was happening over the top of his head.
Heat washed through Kaius’s body, the coil of tension winding tight. Spinning around, he saw the Tyrant’s forces moving. It was a slow, languid motion, like the slow lap of a brook against its banks. They weren’t charging, they were making space.
The army split, leaving only one figure remaining. It might have been leagues away, but Kaius saw it with cutting clarity. He clenched his teeth, pulse throbbing in his neck. It was right there — standing exposed with naked arrogance.
He hated it. Hated what it had done to the city that had taken him in after he had lost everything. Hated the destruction it had wrought. Hated the perversion of the natural order it had inflicted on so many beasts.
It was grotesque, a corruption he saw reflected in every span of its twisted body. Dros had given them a description, but it was so much worse seeing it for himself.
A twisted amalgamation of lizard and insect, carapace was scattered haphazardly across its body without reason. The misplaced armour met oil sheen scales like the mad dream of a flesh-crafter, as if it had been stitched together and forcibly blended the differing textures. Its six compound eyes glistened, and despite its mangled combination of jaw and mandibles, Kaius could see delight written plain on its face.
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It disgusted him.
Tightening his grip on A Father’s Gift, Kaius held himself back from jumping over the wall right then and there.
“Soon; have patience,” Porkchop said softly, his own aggression flaring through their bond as he stared at the Tyrant with his hackles raised.
Kaius simply grunted, refusing to take his eyes off the monstrosity for a second.
Every defender on the wall was dead silent and utterly still, as if the very world was holding its breath.
Then the Tyrant spoke, and its words sounded as if they were whispered directly in his ear.
“A herd of lambs I once saw; a disgrace to Purpose and Toil. Now before me I see only the fear and desperation of hungry wolves.”
Its voice was a foul thing, at once a hacking rasp and a sickening croon.
“Rejoice! For sacred Challenge has been met, and blaspheming weakness has been excised!”
It was fucking revelrous. He was going to gut it alive.
“Even those most lowly and foul will never dare to take the sacred gifts they have been given for granted again!”
His knuckles went white, grip tightening until he heard the leather and wood of his hilt screaming its protest.
The Tyrant’s eyes widened, enraptured as four arms spread wide. “But thine trial does not end here, for smouldering coals lie dormant amongst scattered kindling. I—”
A beam of magic, so hot it seared with the intensity of the midday sun, lanced across the open field. It was dense, packed so full of mana that Kaius could barely fathom — far too much for it to be Ianmus alone.
Fast as solar magic was, the Tyrant was faster. Stepping to the side almost casually, it watched the beam bore a hole through earth and stone with unmasked interest. Smoke billowed and stone liquified as gleaming light accentuated every twisted ridge on the creature’s face. It was fucking grinning.
Reaching out, the Tyrant dipped the tip of one finger into the beam. It pulled out a smoking stump, inspecting the wound — and sidestepped again, dodging a lance sized arrow covered in swirling winds. Kenva, he realised. She must have layered Bare thy heart, and Howl of the North Wind.
“No more,” Ro said urgently through her communication artefact. “Save your resources — and we don’t want to provoke it pointlessly.”
The Tyrant looked up, focusing on the siege tower the shots had come from. Its mouth spread wide — a maw with needle teeth bursting through segmented chitin.
“A most vicious ploy, how delightful! To struggle is to transgress all barriers under thine own power, a worthy pursuit,” It said, chittering with joy.
An instant later, its glistening eyes went cold, as what Kaius could only describe as predatory violence rolled through its body. It straightened, rising to a height that visibly towered over his own, even at a distance.
“But it is a pursuit only available to the strong. The four who burn and two more shall face me in the barren field betwixt our battlelines. Show cowardice, or break concordance with Sacred Challenge, and mine army will hunt you to the last.”
The Tyrant flicked one hand, and a bolt of white fire erupted. It shot across the field, towards the midpoint between its army and the city walls. Kaius tracked it through its flight, his eyes wide. There was more than mana in its working, he could see it.
Essence. A scintillating potency that threaded through the flames.
The bolt landed, scorching the earth black — a clear designation of where it would soon die. He would make sure of it.
Looking back at the Tyrant, Kaius went cold. It was staring at him, naked hunger and delight twisting its smile.
“Well met, one of Alabaster. Thou and thy companion are a rare breed. Mine kind so rarely meet those who usher in the grandest of challenges. I will enjoy breaking you.”
The delighted quiver in the Tyrant’s voice was revolting in its softness. Disgust flare, stoking the heat that pulsed in his veins as Porkchop let out a low rumbling growl beside him. Flicking to Ro, he saw that she didn’t react. She frowned, giving him a brief look of confusion. Had it only spoken to them? It had sounded no different from how it had earlier.
Across the field, the Tyrant spread its arms wide with a shudder. “You have one hour.”
Its hands swung down, and the beasts surrounding it surged back in — hiding its form in a menagerie of bodies. Moments before it was lost in the tide, Kaius focused his Truesight to analyse their target.
Purpose in Duty - Level 264
Tyrant, Amalgam, Essence User
So the monstrosity had a name.
Kaius eyed its level. It wasn’t the highest he’d ever fought, not even close. Somehow he doubted that would mean it would be an easy fight. Far from it. The flames it had summoned had shone with a distinctive light — barely a trace of it, but recognisable all the same. Essence.
As the Tyrant disappeared into its army, the spellbound silence that had held the defenders of the city dissipated. Guards jostled around him as a hum of panicked whispers spread through the crowd. He caught people watching him, torn between desperate hope and bitter fear.
Kaius shouldered the weight happily. Essence abilities or not, they’d put it down. He was certain of it.
Tense and stiff, Ro turned — she was fuming. Every movement she made was restrained, as if she wanted nothing more than to charge into the middle of the beast army and cut down the Tyrant where it stood.
“Come. We need to meet, and time’s burning.”
She pushed past them and leapt straight from the wall to the streets below. Kaius followed a step behind her. She was right, they had a lot to get through before he’d get his chance to bury his sword in the Tyrant’s belly.