Chapter 329: Overwhelming Force
The temperature in the throne room plunged as a dozen powerful auras erupted from the guards and inquisitors. The combined pressure swept out in a wave of semi-visible distorted air, slamming against me like a physical blow. Every muscle in my body stiffened as it threatened to overwhelm me, suffocating my lungs and turning my thoughts fuzzy. I might have been able to simply shrug it off were it not for the High Inquisitor, whose soul was at the peak of sixth level.
Fable pressed against me, and a flood of mana surged into my soul, buoying me up and allowing me to release the seal I kept on my own aura. Immediately, the pressure equalized and I sagged back, gasping for air.
"Curious," the high inquisitor muttered, "I’m surprised you can withstand that. But it doesn’t matter. Resisting will only bring you more pain."
Moving as one, the guards and inquisitors charged forward, weapons leveled at my chest. In a burst of starlight, Fable left my side to meet them. They cried out in astonishment as his silvery form blazed with astral glory, shielding their eyes against the blinding light. Before the spots cleared from the vision, a massive clawed paw tore through their ranks, sending several third-level guards spinning through the air. Blood spurted through their mouths as they crashed against the blue-tinted stone wall with enough force to crack it, falling limply to the ground.
"What the hell?" a fourth-level inquisitor cried. Despite his shock, he charged forward into the lingering mist of starlight, only to vanish as a titanic, horned head broke out of the fog above him. The inquisitor vanished in a flurry of teeth and maw, reappearing a heartbeat later as a broken ragdoll of crumpled armor and blood beneath the throne.
The high inquisitor frowned and swung his curved spear off his back. The gesture alone released a small shockwave that blew the clinging mists back, revealing Fable in all of his infernal strength. A small thrill of shock ran through me as I saw him for the first time since the fight with the centipede, eyes running over his sleek frame. He had been fifty feet long before, right? Then why was he now sixty? He was still fifth level!
"It seems you’ve brought a demon right into the heart of home," the city lord said, standing. The sword leaning against his throne wobbled before rising into the air, flying into his hand on its own accord. The high inquisitor stepped up beside him, the two greatest threats in this fight.
"Would you care to play with the mutt?" the inquisitor asked. Despite the death of several of his inquisitors and over half the guards, he sounded perfectly nonchalant, like he was discussing lunch.
"It’d be a pleasure. I can at least pin it down until you take the filthblood and interrupt whatever spell she’s using to enlarge it." Then, commanding the remaining guards, he shouted, "Stay clear of that demon! Circle round and engage that damned slut! She can’t use combat magic, so there’s no need to be wary."