Clearing the Streets

After bouncing around the cavern for a while, Mike ended up simply raising the sphere of force up into the air and falling back down repeatedly on the prone form the ritual caster.

He'd learned very quickly that, although the Salvation Stone protected him from harm, it also prevented him from influencing anything outside of the sphere. He couldn't figure out any way to cancel the effect. Even his magic was blocked by the ball of force, so he had to rely on simple physics to do the work for him.

Thus, Mike made the most of the time the Salvation Stone was active, crushing the ritual caster repeatedly with the sphere. Huzan had been reduced to little more than a limp sack, not even able to defend himself from the constant punishment.

When the stone's effect finally wore off, Mike was left standing over the crater that had formed under the repeated impacts. The mage had been forced into a vaguely humanoid shaped hole at the bottom of the impact site, and was lying still, looking dead to the world.

Not wanting to take any chances, Mike drove the point of his blade into the mage's midsection. It slid through the white robes like a knife through tissue paper, and easily sunk into the ground underneath him.

"Huzan is surprised. Huzan didn't think you could make your magic even sadder, but you did. Huzan weeps for your magic."

A steady flow of mana arose from the caster's body, and sensing danger, Mike jumped back. Unseen blades of force whipped the surrounding area, creating deep fissures in the sides of the crater. One of them caught Mike on the leg, laying it open to the bone and flinging him away with its force. He slid to a halt after traveling about 10 meters.

He sent some mana to the injury to speed up the healing process, already feeling a little light-headed from the blood loss, and turned to face the mage.

Huzan was flying again, slowly rising out of the crater. The caster was surrounded with a crackling aura of purple lightning. No blood flowed from the gaping hole in his torso, and the reason why soon became apparent.

The mage's white mask, already cracked from the violence of the last few minutes, finally broke. The falling shards revealed Huzan's face, or at least what should have been his face.

The mage's head was composed of dozens of giant, squirming leeches. Their sharp toothed, circular mouths occasionally showing through the press of their black, bulbous, glistening bodies.

Mike watched in horrified fascination as the caster spoke by vibrating some of the worms in the area that should have been a mouth. Without his mask, the voice was hollow and buzzing, a bit like when someone talked through an electric fan.

"Huzan apologizes for Huzan's appearance. Huzan knows it's upsetting to you sad flesh bags. Don't worry, Huzan will make it better." As the creature spoke, one of its component leeches fell onto its chest, before slowly inching its way back up to the robe's neckline.

The mage spread its arms wide, and six bizarrely twisted magic circles formed in the air around him.

"Huzan hopes that your death will be a quick one."

From each of the circles, sinuous forms emerged. Easily two meters wide, they emerged from the formations like the feelers of some horrible sea creature.

Fanged mouths covered much of the creatures' lengths. They were vaguely reminiscent of the tentacle demon Mike had fought earlier. Each of the six eel-like appendages terminated in an elongated, almost crocodilian, set of jaws.

As one, the creatures shot forward towards Mike, forcing him to jump back as hard as he could to evade.

Huzan floated forward bringing the circles with him, and started laughing manically.

"Huzan loves it when the run! Run! Run, little mouse. Give Huzan a good chase."

[Weapons don't seem to work on this guy, so I will have to use magic to finish him off. I need to lure him away from the altar so I can blast him.]

Dodging and weaving through the stalagmites, Mike succeeded in buying some time and distance from the altar, but the increasing whine of power in the air suggested that he needed to find a quicker solution. Distracted by this he let himself be worked into a corner, unable to evade everyone of the coming attacks.

Mike blocked one of the mouths with his sword, jamming the flat of the blade against its upper jaw while allowing the force of the blow to move him. Although he managed to avoid being bitten, he underestimated the creature's strength, and therefore wasn't ready when the monster pushed him into the air, throwing clear to one end of the cavern.

"S***!" Mike yelled while quickly trying to slow his flight with Air Magic. He still impacted the cavern wall with bone jarring force.

Coughing, he reevaluated his situation. Seeing the laughing spell caster floating towards him with the eels in tow, he figured he'd succeeded in the first of his objectives.

[Now I just need a way to land a solid blow. I'm pretty sure a good fireball with do the trick, but if he uses that force shield thing again, I'm going to be in trouble. I need a distraction.]

Mike held his ground, trying to think of a way to bypass the mage's defenses.

[I guess I'll just try it and hope for the best…..how does that chant go again?]

Relying on his admittedly faulty memory, Mike started chanting under his breath. "I let thee free. Dance in thy fleeting luminescence…"

"No longer feeling like running? Huzan understands. Huzan would also give up in your situation." The cluster of leeches that served as the caster's head nodded sagely.

"Huzan will take your life now," and with a gesture he sent all six eels charging towards Mike, encircling him and giving him no route of escape, save one.

"…your eternal fury, [Fireball]!" Mike poured as much mana as he could into the spell as he sprinted forward narrowly avoiding the thrashing jaws of the eel monsters. Holding tight to the watermelon sized ball of flame, he moved till he was directly underneath the mage.

"Huzan questions your intelligence," the leech monster said while raising its right hand to once again summon the shield of force. "Huzan feels sorry for your magic, it is so...eh? "

The caster's right arm flopped to the ground, its component leeches screeching a death cry.

Not sure what happened, but not wanting to waste the opportunity, Mike unleashed his spell, willing it upwards with all of his mental might.

The fireball flew until it was level with a still distracted Huzan. The caster had time for one more confused, "Eh?" before it detonated.

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Commander Barnes of the Wyrport Guard was in a sorry state.

His troops had been decimated by the repeated waves of demon attacks. Only the timely intervention of a ragged band of 'sailors,' who continued to maintain that there business in the city was completely legitimate, had saved them from complete destruction.

Regardless of their origins, Barnes needed all the help he could get. Too many of his men were injured, and the next wave could very well be their last.

When he heard the roar of the incoming demons, his heart sank.

If it had been a collection of Kal class with a few higher tier demons mixed in, they might have survived. However, from the sounds of it, there enemy was bringing in the elites to finish the job.

A formation of Legion demons appeared in the misty streets, marching in unison. The blue skinned humanoids were large, heavily muscled, and disciplined. Equipped with weapons and armor made of Bloodsteel, they would be the match for most mortal armies even in the best of times.

Barnes knew the only sane option would be to retreat, but doing so would expose the flanks of the other defensive units. He was faced with a terrible decision. Fall back and save what was left of his troops, or stand his ground in the hopes of reinforcements arriving in time.

Captain Bont, the leader of the 'sailors' walked up to him in a jaunty manner. He'd maintained a sanguine attitude throughout the night, even when his own men had been dying under the claws of the demon horde.

"So what be the plan, Commander? It looks we're in for a mess o' trouble." He asked while aimlessly twisting his braided blonde beard in one hand, the other was still tucked into his sword belt.

Barnes took a deep breath before replying. "We will make our stand here, Captain. I do not have high expectations of survival, so, it would be a great help to me if you could fall back, and take the worst of the wounded with you."

"Let me stop you there. Me boys are no cowards, to run in the face of a good fight. I say we give these blue bastards a thrashing that they will never forget."

"Are you certain? Even if you stay, our situation is grim."

He gave the Commander a grin, showing off several gold teeth. "There be only one thing I fear, and it ain't demons. I be with you Commander, until this night is through."

Touched, Barnes could only nod in response. By this point the demons had approached within a few dozen meters. Soon they would be charging.

Clapping the 'sailor' on the shoulder, he stood to address his weary troops. "To the line, men! We fight now to hold back the tide of darkness that threatens to sweep over our city. Stand firm, and shows these demons that might of Wyrport!"

"FOR WYRPORT!" The men cheered as they braced themselves for the demonic assault.

With a unified roar that seemed to shake the shake the foundations of the nearby buildings, the Legion Demons broke into a run.

"This is it! Hold the line!" Barnes called, taking up his position.

He was still bracing the haft of his halberd when the world erupted in flame.

A column of fire at least 20 meters thick exploded out of the ground, engulfing the Legion demons in a raging inferno. Shattered chunks of rock were hurled dozens of meters into the air, before raining down on distant buildings.

As quickly as it started, the cataclysmic event ceased, leaving a vast, sizzling pit in the ground, surrounded by a ring of molten rock. Nothing remained of the Legion demons save a few scorched body parts that had been thrown free in the chaos.

Looking around at his men, and seeing his own stunned expression reflected in theirs, Barnes could only say one thing.

"Eh?"

The Captain burst into uproarious laughter.

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Mike sagged under the weight of mana exhaustion. He had really underestimated how much effort it had taken to control and redirect the explosion.

Inspecting the effects of his spell, he was slightly surprised to see stars at the other end of the tunnel he had made. Evidently he had punched a hole to the surface.

With some effort, he got to his feet, and looked around to check on the rest of the group. He couldn't see Brenden, but Tal and Sera seemed to be alright, although the elf was acting a little odd. He also noticed that the other portal had vanished, evidently disrupted by the violence of his spell.

The Oracle was yelling at him from the other side of the cavern. "The idol! We have to move the idol!" She emphasized this by pointing in the direction of the altar.

[Ah, she must have had a vision. I guess killing the ritual caster wasn't enough.]

He'd begun to turn and start running towards the obscene religious site, when he caught a glimpse of something metallic out of the corner of his eye. He looked back at the two women, and in a panic changed directions towards them, already knowing he'd be too late.

The armored bulk of the Chosen leader stood behind the still oblivious Oracle, war hammer raised and ready to strike. Utterly helpless to prevent it, he could only watch as the weapon was brought down.

There was a clang of metal on metal.