Flamma Academy Pocket Plane – Canyon
Half a day before.
“Breach in three…” Selene counted.
“Christoph and Kyle, on the left. Alex and Roan on the right. Yegrav and Sergei take the centre,” Aura ordered quietly, making the six knights form a semicircle enclosing the small mouth of the canyon. The succubus Selene stood in front of them, clad in her pitch-black armour, and a few steps ahead Aura and Asmodeus stood as the vanguard. The canyon was barely three to four meters wide and its sides were steep and smooth, making any kind of hasty climb impossible. There was nothing on the other side of the canyon save the glowing purple walls of the bounded field, but they knew this would soon change.
“…two…” continued Selene.
The king tightened the grip on his blade. He could feel a mass of thoughts and violent emotions flowing in their direction from far away, and the distance seemed to shorten by the second. The unstable path between worlds was rapidly assembling itself, and soon enough a horde of demons would burst from the other side.
“There’s at least a thousand,” Aura muttered next to him. “Most medium sized, a few big ones.”
The presence on the other side grew stronger, and soon he could make them out individually. They probably knew something was expecting them on the other side, but planned to charge in regardless.
“…one…”
“It’s a bit late to go pee now, isn’t it?” Sergei said, drawing a nervous laugh from the men around them that quieted down almost instantly. They all held their breath for a second, and…
“BREACH!” Selene howled.
With a thundering crack, the space around the barrier wall twisted on itself and fractured, and from it burst a torrent of grotesque monsters of various shapes and sizes. They roared and screamed in grave and shrill voices alike, trampling each other as they rushed out of the hole toward the mouth of the canyon.
The knights held their ground as the beasts charged. It would be mere seconds before the avalanche of monsters reached them, seemingly with enough force to run them over. Everyone readied their swords and dug their heels deep, staring what seemed like certain death in the face.
And then a different roar thundered through the canyon.
The red-haired king was the first to meet the avalanche, howling with a voice more powerful and terrifying than any of the demons could manage. He swung his blade in a wide arc, cleaving the demon vanguard in half and throwing his armoured body against the advancing horde with all his strength. The ground cracked where he stepped as if it were struck by lightning, and he swung almost blindly, cutting through the demons as easily as one would swing a blade at empty air.
The men knew that the king was not human. He looked and acted much like a pleasant, if slightly awkward human boy, but they knew he was not like them. Yet as they saw the charging horde grind to a halt and break before him, they understood for the first time just what that truly meant.
A swordsman fights with cleverness and skill, tipping the balance between life and death by luck, courage and their sheer mastery of arms. Such skills are needed because they know their weaknesses, and must learn to overcome them. What they saw before bore no resemblance to such men.
The king was a monster. A creature born the blood beyond mortal men. A monster with no weaknesses had no need for technique, it needed only exert its power. And with this realization came another, far more heartening one: at last, for the peasant-born knight whose families had struggled for generations against the hordes of the Scar, the fearsome monster was on their side.
Several demons had managed to squeeze past Asmodeus’ charge, but over half took less than a couple steps before being cut down by Aura’s blade. Unlike her husband’s wild charge, she fought with a terrifying efficiency, her every movement as precise as clockwork. Her attacks held neither rage not aggression, they were simply exact, measured, and unavoidably lethal. The king inspired terror on his enemies, but terror at least could send them into a frenzy. Facing the queen inspired nothing but cold, paralyzing despair.
The sight destroyed the demon’s morale as decisively as it bolstered that of the knights. Whatever fear they might have had, it evaporated as they readied to meet what the fraction of the horde made it past the king and queen. Together with the black-armoured succubus, they made short work of what few critters squeezed through, allowing nothing but their enemies’ dripping blood to reach the mouth of the canyon.
Two hours passed as such until the last of the horde fell to the queen’s blade, and the assembled warriors let out a collective sigh of relief, many dropping to the floor in exhaustion. The king surveyed the group anxiously, holding his breath until he had verified everyone’s state: they were tired and bruised, but they were alive and well. Silently, he let out a sigh of his own, clearing his throat to address them all.
“You have all performed exceptionally, and I want you to know I am proud to call you my companions,” he said as they all stared in silence, looking at him rather strangely. “Thanks to your tireless effort and bravery we have—Sorry, is there something on my face?” he interrupted himself, noticing the blank look on the men’s faces. They sat quietly for a moment longer before Sergei let out a snorting chuckle, quickly giving way to a cackling laugh that the rest of the soldiers couldn’t help joining. Smirking and shaking her head in amusement, Aura shoved the side of her freshly-cleaned sword at his face, letting him see his own reflection.
Every man and woman present was dirty and bloodied, but only one of them had charged headfirst into the horde. As the demons’ morale had broken, Asmodeus had pushed his way through their ranks and blocked their retreat, trapping them between him and the advancing wall of death spearheaded by Aura. Over the next half hour, he had personally fought a whole third of the demon horde.
As a result, every inch of his front was died with the dark red blood of the demons. His armour was splattered with the innards of the creatures he had torn apart, and a chunk of flesh still clung between two of his front teeth, a result of having had his sword knocked from his hands and resorted to cracking a Deimos’ neck with his fangs. The sight must have been terrifying during the battle, but having regained his typical unassuming demeanour, the dissonance looked simply comical.
“Right, nevermind,” he muttered embarrassedly, dislodging the chunk of meat off his teeth. “We won. We’re all alive. Let’s get out of here.”
“On your feet, you louts!” barked Sergei, prompting the other five men to stand. “Salute!”
The king returned the gesture, watching them turn and march back to the camp. Selene gave him a mock salute as well before trotting right behind them, leaving him alone with Aura.
“We did it,” she said calmly, patting his blood-soaked shoulder. “Flawless victory. Not bad for your first field command.”
“You did the commanding, I just stood beside you and acted stiff.”
“You chewed through almost half of the horde on your own. Somewhat literally, from what I see,” she added, picking a bit of what she guessed was monster’s intestine off his hair. “If you start with your whole ‘am I doing enough’ routine after this, I’ll be required to punch you.”
“Yes ma’am,” he sighed obediently, meeting her caring smile with his own they both marched back after their men.
Half a day before.
“Breach in three…” Selene counted.
“Christoph and Kyle, on the left. Alex and Roan on the right. Yegrav and Sergei take the centre,” Aura ordered quietly, making the six knights form a semicircle enclosing the small mouth of the canyon. The succubus Selene stood in front of them, clad in her pitch-black armour, and a few steps ahead Aura and Asmodeus stood as the vanguard. The canyon was barely three to four meters wide and its sides were steep and smooth, making any kind of hasty climb impossible. There was nothing on the other side of the canyon save the glowing purple walls of the bounded field, but they knew this would soon change.
“…two…” continued Selene.
The king tightened the grip on his blade. He could feel a mass of thoughts and violent emotions flowing in their direction from far away, and the distance seemed to shorten by the second. The unstable path between worlds was rapidly assembling itself, and soon enough a horde of demons would burst from the other side.
“There’s at least a thousand,” Aura muttered next to him. “Most medium sized, a few big ones.”
The presence on the other side grew stronger, and soon he could make them out individually. They probably knew something was expecting them on the other side, but planned to charge in regardless.
“…one…”
“It’s a bit late to go pee now, isn’t it?” Sergei said, drawing a nervous laugh from the men around them that quieted down almost instantly. They all held their breath for a second, and…
“BREACH!” Selene howled.
With a thundering crack, the space around the barrier wall twisted on itself and fractured, and from it burst a torrent of grotesque monsters of various shapes and sizes. They roared and screamed in grave and shrill voices alike, trampling each other as they rushed out of the hole toward the mouth of the canyon.
The knights held their ground as the beasts charged. It would be mere seconds before the avalanche of monsters reached them, seemingly with enough force to run them over. Everyone readied their swords and dug their heels deep, staring what seemed like certain death in the face.
And then a different roar thundered through the canyon.
The red-haired king was the first to meet the avalanche, howling with a voice more powerful and terrifying than any of the demons could manage. He swung his blade in a wide arc, cleaving the demon vanguard in half and throwing his armoured body against the advancing horde with all his strength. The ground cracked where he stepped as if it were struck by lightning, and he swung almost blindly, cutting through the demons as easily as one would swing a blade at empty air.
The men knew that the king was not human. He looked and acted much like a pleasant, if slightly awkward human boy, but they knew he was not like them. Yet as they saw the charging horde grind to a halt and break before him, they understood for the first time just what that truly meant.
A swordsman fights with cleverness and skill, tipping the balance between life and death by luck, courage and their sheer mastery of arms. Such skills are needed because they know their weaknesses, and must learn to overcome them. What they saw before bore no resemblance to such men.
The king was a monster. A creature born the blood beyond mortal men. A monster with no weaknesses had no need for technique, it needed only exert its power. And with this realization came another, far more heartening one: at last, for the peasant-born knight whose families had struggled for generations against the hordes of the Scar, the fearsome monster was on their side.
Several demons had managed to squeeze past Asmodeus’ charge, but over half took less than a couple steps before being cut down by Aura’s blade. Unlike her husband’s wild charge, she fought with a terrifying efficiency, her every movement as precise as clockwork. Her attacks held neither rage not aggression, they were simply exact, measured, and unavoidably lethal. The king inspired terror on his enemies, but terror at least could send them into a frenzy. Facing the queen inspired nothing but cold, paralyzing despair.
The sight destroyed the demon’s morale as decisively as it bolstered that of the knights. Whatever fear they might have had, it evaporated as they readied to meet what the fraction of the horde made it past the king and queen. Together with the black-armoured succubus, they made short work of what few critters squeezed through, allowing nothing but their enemies’ dripping blood to reach the mouth of the canyon.
Two hours passed as such until the last of the horde fell to the queen’s blade, and the assembled warriors let out a collective sigh of relief, many dropping to the floor in exhaustion. The king surveyed the group anxiously, holding his breath until he had verified everyone’s state: they were tired and bruised, but they were alive and well. Silently, he let out a sigh of his own, clearing his throat to address them all.
“You have all performed exceptionally, and I want you to know I am proud to call you my companions,” he said as they all stared in silence, looking at him rather strangely. “Thanks to your tireless effort and bravery we have—Sorry, is there something on my face?” he interrupted himself, noticing the blank look on the men’s faces. They sat quietly for a moment longer before Sergei let out a snorting chuckle, quickly giving way to a cackling laugh that the rest of the soldiers couldn’t help joining. Smirking and shaking her head in amusement, Aura shoved the side of her freshly-cleaned sword at his face, letting him see his own reflection.
Every man and woman present was dirty and bloodied, but only one of them had charged headfirst into the horde. As the demons’ morale had broken, Asmodeus had pushed his way through their ranks and blocked their retreat, trapping them between him and the advancing wall of death spearheaded by Aura. Over the next half hour, he had personally fought a whole third of the demon horde.
As a result, every inch of his front was died with the dark red blood of the demons. His armour was splattered with the innards of the creatures he had torn apart, and a chunk of flesh still clung between two of his front teeth, a result of having had his sword knocked from his hands and resorted to cracking a Deimos’ neck with his fangs. The sight must have been terrifying during the battle, but having regained his typical unassuming demeanour, the dissonance looked simply comical.
“Right, nevermind,” he muttered embarrassedly, dislodging the chunk of meat off his teeth. “We won. We’re all alive. Let’s get out of here.”
“On your feet, you louts!” barked Sergei, prompting the other five men to stand. “Salute!”
The king returned the gesture, watching them turn and march back to the camp. Selene gave him a mock salute as well before trotting right behind them, leaving him alone with Aura.
“We did it,” she said calmly, patting his blood-soaked shoulder. “Flawless victory. Not bad for your first field command.”
“You did the commanding, I just stood beside you and acted stiff.”
“You chewed through almost half of the horde on your own. Somewhat literally, from what I see,” she added, picking a bit of what she guessed was monster’s intestine off his hair. “If you start with your whole ‘am I doing enough’ routine after this, I’ll be required to punch you.”
“Yes ma’am,” he sighed obediently, meeting her caring smile with his own they both marched back after their men.