Chapter 242

'I still can't believe she left. The Queen was right, threaten what they have to protect, and you can lead them where you want.' Vijar thought with no small amount of glee. He could feel the saliva already forming, he may not have been permitted to use humans as an actual food source… but they kept so much of it there… 'We'll feast for days'. He stuck out his tongue and licked around the outline of his mouth and waited.

The column of soldiers seemed to stretch from the city to the far horizon, an intimidating sight to be sure, with soldiers on foot and horseback in gleaming bright armor, 'But what was it she said… the long line makes it seem like there are more than there really are. It's a common strategy to hearten the soldiers and intimidate their enemies.'

"They really do put a lot of thought into war here…" Vijar mumbled under his breath, it was reluctant admiration, and on reflection, he considered, 'Perhaps that is how they've held out for so long despite being weaker…'

It heightened his loyalty to his Queen, if anything, 'With their knowledge and our strength? Demalbion will stand at the pinnacle of the world one day…' The city before his eyes with its high, proud walls, like the many soldiers in expensive armor sparked his envy, kept his eyes focused on both while he reflected on the cluster of villages he lorded over before.

From the eyes he felt behind him that all stared at the same things, he could feel he was not alone.

The urge to simply 'attack' was pounding in his chest, thrumming in his blood, but he held back, he waited. He had his orders.

He obeyed.

Night settled in, and still concealed in the distant woods, his forces waited.

It took days for his reinforcements to arrive, and during that time, they watched, counted the guards, learned their shifts, how many were on the walls when the others slept, and waited for the signal.

That 'signal' was Olasird'arc. The dragon swept down from above out of the clouds, his silhouette visible only for an instant when set against the moon, no roar, no bellow, no beastial fury. Without those, Vijar realized something, 'Dragons are known for their fury and power, but when I watch the way it moves? Graceful. Like the way a fish swims through water.'

The broad body seemed sleek, the broad wings battered the air into hurricanes and the tail undulated, serpent-like at his back in deliberate motions, and just as the cries of alarm were going up from the city, the dragon hit… hard. His claws raked over the wall, his body slammed against it, his tail lashed out and smashed against the proud walls of Kalinsha, human guards tumbled to their doom, falling screaming to the ground and buried amidst the rubble. Their dying screams hidden by the crashing noise so that they may as well have died in silence for all anyone knew.

The walls crumbled in multiple places, gaps large enough for a dozen or more to walk straight through appeared and opened up multiple ways into the city.

His first part done, the dragon jumped away, his wings beating at the air with force enough that several more armor clad soldiers fought desperately, leaning into the wind the dragon made, gritting their teeth or clawing for something to hold onto… and most failed, falling backwards to die on the open ground, landing on the road inside their city. Their brains dashed against the stone before Vijar could even call for the attack.

When he did, they moved at a quickstep, not at a dead run over such distance, but their pounding feet were so many that the noise they made was a warcry unto itself, the alarm in the city went up in earnest. The warning bells were calling soldiers to battle, but their cries, Vijar could tell as he drew closer, were few.

More common were the cries of terror, he detected what he now knew of as the cries of human women and children, and the cries of men who had no taste or experience with battle. 'Brave… but foolish.' Vijar thought to himself as the desperate line of humans in armor lined up in short, deep rows to try to hold him and his forces back from the paths they now had into the interior.

The human paladins were shouting the names of their martial arts, some of the squires on foot were doing the same, arrows flew overhead and fell behind him. He smelled demi-human blood, and heard demi-human cries of pain as the volleys of the human archers continued to exact their price.

The pace picked up, the quickstep became a charge, the light jog became a dead sprint, and Vijar's axe came down, chopping not flesh, but wood from a long pike. His free hand grabbed another, lifted it, and with it, the man who held on and would not let go. His terror stricken face was clearly visible to Vijar in the darkness, a bright light made it even easier mere seconds later as more magic was brought to bear…

He brought the pike down in a low, sweeping arc, knocking humans out of their formations and opening the way in.

A paladin in polished armor charged into the gap, "Rolani of Kalinsha will not let the city fall!" The paladin cried out, and drew out a glowing white sword as he lept toward Vijar.

"Kalinsha will fall, let it or not!" Vijar snarled and blocked the blow of his challenger, he hooked the sword in the inner curve of the axe and gave it a pull, only to freeze. The human did not budge. "Strong." Vijar remarked.

The human didn't seem to care for the praise, he pulled back, and for seconds the two were locked in a tug of war, straining their bodies and grunting it out as the fighting went up around them, swarms of demihumans filling the gaps and taking on the badly outnumbered humans.

The tug of war was broken when the sword was twisted and pulled away, and the two circled one another, each more wary of the other, they darted in at once. Vijar played to his height, bringing the axe down toward head, shoulders, and torso.

But the human paladin, augmented by his martial arts, was avoiding them with the artfulness of a sparrow avoiding a hawk, striking back, playing to 'his' height, and attacking Vijar at the waist, thighs, and calves, places difficult to defend.

Vijar snarled as pain scored his body when the human drew first blood, the noise of humans around him was nearly gone, and at a glance, he could see why. 'This paladin is the last one here…' He smirked, the demihumans around him were already storming through the rest of the city, fighting was clearly thicker farther away as the undermanned garrison tried to create choke points to make stands.

'It won't last…' Vijar chuckled and leveled his axe at the Paladin. "Your city is already in the hands of the Queen of Frost, human. You are beaten, even if you are still alive."

They were circling one another, the face of the paladin was twisted in wrath, he held firm, without trembling or fear, raising his white blade up to his shoulder and pointing the tip toward Vijar. "Even if that's true, that doesn't mean you'll live to enjoy it!" The paladin spat, and the little white glob made ripples in a puddle of mixed human and demi-human blood, and as if it were a signal mutually agreed upon, the pair charged again.

The sword parried the axe, the axe parried the sword, the armor of the paladin took blow after blow from the axe, denting, cracking, and Vijar felt the wounds pile up on the thick hide of his body as his own blood stained his fur.

There was no breaking apart, no retreat, the two stayed in striking range of one another, ranging back and forth, the lone combatants still present at the wall itself, the noise of fighting receded farther and farther away from where they stood, the screams of the population dying down as people died or hid.

Fires began to spring up and paint the night with smoke enough that the full moon was hidden from view as if by all new clouds.

Until at last Vijar failed to avoid a deep slash that cut into his thigh and brought him down to one knee, giving them for the moment, equal height.

The human paladin brought his sword up for the finishing blow, and Vijar dropped his axe and dove forward, under the guard, and grappled the human, catching him in an embrace, and landing a bite down at the joining of the paladin's neck and shoulders. His teeth crunched through the armor, and the coppery taste of blood and the sweet taste of flesh filled his mouth as he closed his jaw, and then pulled back, tearing the wound open and fountaining blood over Vijar's face and body, spasming for a few seconds as the body's life ran out, before the catman let go, and dropped the paladin into a heap on the ground.

He swallowed what he took from the man's flesh, and licked his lips. 'They do taste good…' Vijar thought, and then attempting to take one more step, he fell forward and crashed to the ground beside his opponent, unable to move again.

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"Prart… has fallen?" Calca gasped with dismay, "H-How? Gustav went out and-" She stopped her sentence cold.

"Is he dead?" She asked the messenger.

The court was filled with the new nobility, the last word they had of Gustav was a victory that cut off the path of Southern reinforcements, the expectation of a decisive battle to bring down Astraka, and end the invasion before any more damage could be done.

"No, my Lady. I come from his army," the kneeling messenger said, "he is besieging Prart now and has Duke Astraka trapped inside the walls."

Sighs of relief went up. But Calca's voice was not among them, she looked over to Kelart at her right hand beside the throne, "Astraka has a reputation for martial cunning… he must have avoided General Montagnés somehow… there's no certainty that he won't again."

"Your Majesty… you're not saying what I think you're saying, are you?" Kelart's hand went out reflexively to touch the Queen's shoulder, her fingers giving it a subtle squeeze.

'No wonder the rumors went up, that looked flirty even to me… and I was a virgin until only a few weeks ago.' Ainz reflected on his newfound sagely worldliness for a moment, his mind again turned to the absent Albedo, she hadn't reached out to him, but he could feel her hidden hand nonetheless.

"Yes." Calca answered with fierce determination, her slender hand forming into a fist on the throne, "We have a substantial host here, and can raise even more. I want to go and reinforce General Montagnés… we can put this runecraft equipment to the test!"

Ainz felt his heart practically sing, 'Nobody actually putting that to use has been a little frustrating… how can they want more of it if they don't really see it in action?'

Still, he glanced over to the Queen from where he sat at her left hand, "Calca, that is still dangerous, especially if you don't know what you're marching into. I will go with you, you called me here hoping for my magic, so let me use it, at least this much."

She seemed at war with herself, her eyes darting back and forth from Kelart to her husband-to-be, and even down to the floor at her feet. Excess dependency on a foreign king for combat support was a dangerous thing for a monarch, but her doubts seemed to vanish over the passing seconds.

"Yes… I-I will accept your help, whatever you can provide me… Ainz." She said, and gave him a smile that showed her pearl white teeth, and stretched out her left hand to cover the back of his right where it sat on the throne she had added to the great hall.

"Then I have something I have to do… some magic to use…" Ainz said and rose to his feet, he towered easily over the tallest of the nobles there, and in his mystic robes, he exuded power and authority. But inside, he had one clear determination above all else. 'I must get this finished… and go home. There is something I must do.'

"Join me in your quarters when you're ready." He said with urgency, and made his way out of the hall before anyone could even ask.

"Mages." Calca and Kelart said at once with a chuckle, and Calca sighed when Kelart squeezed her shoulder one more time before the Queen stood up and began to identify nobles to lead her forces.