Chương 34: Steel and Ice

Nearby, as it turned out, was three hundred miles away.

"Lafmere is a frontier town I'm sure you are familiar with," Lenore said.

"It doubles as a fortified military hub and an Irregular recruitment centre for the northern campaign. You must have joined the military there, unless you were assigned to this warfront from another frontier town."

"I enlisted there, yes." Another day had passed since he left solitary. Both of them were currently outside, standing next to a large clearing as a crowd of soldiers marched past.

"Charming place. A hotbed for traders, adventurers, and criminals. Why are you going there?"

"The campaign has taken a turn for the worse, so new deals need to be negotiated with the town minister if the war here is to continue. Supplies, manpower, and so on. Faldren himself would have gone, but the hunt for the assassin takes priority." Nearly every drake currently stationed in the mountain fortress had been brought to the primary square. Their riders were all already mounted, armed and ready for combat. Leading them was Commander Faldren, similarly decked out in wargear and already atop his leaner mount.

"That war party accounts for half the Regulars here," Alcyr noted.

"Why wasn't I informed of this hunt?"

"You were in solitary. Also, you don't have a flying mount, so bringing you along for the mission is pointless." The two of them watched Commander Faldren give a brief speech. Nearly twenty riders listened in rapt attention. If there were any indication that the soldiers scorned the commander for his unorthodox background, they did not show it. He was a leader who earned his respect and position, rather than inherited it.

Alcyr would not say Faldren was a man he would follow to his undying breath, but there was something admirable about the battlemage's humble attitude.

"Both of you are leaving the base at the same time," Alcyr pointed out.

"Isn't that dangerous?"

"There are still over twenty Regulars stationed in the base. Senior Lieutenant Garron will remain in command for the brief duration of my absence. He is only a few levels from the Master-tier. He will suffice."

"It seems reckless. Just two weeks ago, an assassin broke into the compound and killed dozens." Lenore sighed.

"For what it's worth, I agree with you. However, the situation demands too much from us to act conservatively. More forces are needed to reinforce the retreat in the fields, and a high-ranking liaison needs to be sent to Lafmere for the negotiations. Above all, that assassin must be captured."

"Captured, not killed? Why?"

"You are not cleared to know that." Lenore hesitated.

"However, I will tell you that it has something to do with her Corpse God heritage." There weren't many reasons why one would want to capture a Corpse Spawn, and none were pleasant. Alcyr's lips drew into a thin line, but he said nothing.

"No warband is going to take this place, even with its garrison diminished as it is," Lenore continued.

"Unless our outer lines missed an entire army passing them by, the mountain fortress will hold on its own for a few days in their leaders' absence."

"It would be wiser to abandon this hunt." He was not just saying that solely because he was afraid Faldren would defeat the assassin and deny him the chance to have his duel. Committing this much force on a single foe was foolish, especially when the company was already stretched this thin.

"Faldren is adamant in this decision. The risks are low, though potentially catastrophic. Success, however, might help us greatly in bringing this campaign to a close." Alcyr said nothing more. He watched as Faldren finished his speech and set off. The other Regulars followed, drakes shrieking as their mighty wingbeats echoed across the mountains.

"When do we go?" he asked once the last of them left the cavernous base.

"In a few hours. The quartermaster has your gear ready. Grab it and meet me here when you're done."

"You anticipate trouble?"

"Just a precaution. We will only be gone for two days, but I'd rather you be armed and ready than underequipped if things go wrong."

The quartermaster had everything ready for him when he arrived. It was an impressive suite of equipment, far more so than Alcyr had anticipated despite the hefty sum he had paid for its commission. The chainmail shirt was linked so finely that it moved like silk pooling across his fingers when he picked it up. The breastplate, forged entirely of quality steel, was mirror-bright and contoured rather than hammered flat.

The greaves and pauldrons fitted perfectly, and when he put them on, each joint moved with only the faintest whisper of friction.

"Did you modify these on your own?" Alcyr asked, gesturing to the knuckles. The metal there was slightly spiked, the underside reinforced with something denser than plain iron.

"It's perfect."

"Heard about your recent fights and how you like punching people," the quartermaster grinned.

"Figure you might enjoy that."

"I do. Thank you. I'll pay—""No need, Butcher." The quartermaster waved his hands.

"You already paid for quality, so you'll get quality. Besides, it's not often I get commissioned for a job with that many gold pieces. Thought I would enjoy myself and go all out for once." The weapons came next. The first was the gladius and the shield. The shortsword was balanced to a hair — light and effortless to both draw and use; a perfect backup weapon. The shield was solidly made — far larger than the buckler he used in his battle with Bjorn, but strong and unyielding in its unapologetic bulk.

He would have to strap it to his back rather than his waist. The longsword, however, was the one that drew the lion's share of his attention.

"It's been a long while since I smithed a silverite weapon," the quartermaster said wistfully.

"Melting that axe was a pain, but thankfully there was enough material to make even a blade this long and thick." Alcyr held up the longsword carefully, its silverite blade gleaming with a pale, moonlit sheen. Deadly and beautiful. Lighter than steel yet stronger than any common metal. Its edge was forged to an impossibly fine keeness, and the enchanted alloy would allow Alcyr to channel his Artes far better than a mundane sword.

"It's a masterwork," Alcyr said honestly.

"Worth every gold spent."

"Ha! Given the fortune you paid me to make this, I'd say that's high praise." The quartermaster's grin widened.

"However, we are not done yet. I have one last surprise for you." The throwing weapons were last. Rather than a belt of simple knives, Alcyr was instead presented with a sight he never expected to see.

"Been looking to give these away for a while now," the quartermaster admitted as he held up one of twelve paper-thin blades.

"No one in the company has the finesse to wield them, but given your skills, I thought you might appreciate the craftsmanship." Alcyr blinked, genuinely stunned.

"How in the world did you manage to get your hands on a set of throwing chakrams?" Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. Nestled in purple brocade, twelve beautifully crafted chakrams sat — thin discs of dark steel with an inner diameter slightly longer than his finger. Their edges were grounded down to a wicked, near-invisible line. When Alcyr lifted one, it caught almost no light from the nearby braziers at all, and it weighed practically nothing in his hand.

"Chakrams? Is that what they are called?" The quartermaster scratched his beard.

"No idea what they were except that they were a type of throwing blades. The merchant I bought them from claimed it came from one of the higher realms, but I didn't believe him. He sold it for cheap since no one could figure out how to use the damn things."

"You're supposed to use your fingers and twirl them like a hoop." Alcyr demonstrated, handling the strange weapons with deft movements.

"Really? Huh, weird. Where did you learn that from?"

"A… friend of mine enjoyed using these. She taught me a little, and— never mind. We are straying off topic. Are you sure you want to give these to me?"

"You paid enough, and in the eight years since I bought the set, I've never found anyone who liked using them. Call it a gift if you like. Honestly, you're doing me a favour by taking them off my hands." Alcyr shook his head, chuckling.

"Liar. But fine. I'll gladly take them. I won't forget this favour." The quartermaster laughed sheepishly.

"Try them out before you go. Let me know if you need anything else. Alcyr tested them and found them perfect. They never wobbled when thrown, and with some practice, he found he could curve their arcs around corners or into an opponent's blind spot. Best of all, they were utterly silent in flight, nearly invisible in dim light or darkness, and were so sharp that they cut through the necks of the wooden dummies he used them on. Playing with them was too much fun. It had him smiling the entire time.

I can't wait to use these on the field. As a final gift, he received a compact cleaning kit from the quartermaster, complete with a case containing vials of quality oil and whetstones. Armed and ready, Alcyr headed to the meeting point he was supposed to find Lenore. She was not alone, to his surprise. Aside from her enormous scar-ridden drake, Vormas and Ural were there as well. The giant of 3rd Platoon greeted him cheerfully.

"Yo, Butcher! Sorry to crash your date with the captain, but duty calls." Alcyr turned to Lenore. She shrugged.

"Lieutenant Vormas is the current highest-ranking logistical officer in the base. He will negotiate with the merchant guild while I discuss matters directly with the town minister."

"And Ural?"

"Bodyguard." Her lips curled slightly in displeasure.

"The 3rd Platoon is… uncomfortable with me going alone with you." And they sent him? The one who started the troublesome rumours in the first place?

"Don't worry, Butcher. Just say the word, and I'll leave you two alone for your date." Ural gave him a thumbs-up.

"I know a few good taverns in town if you need recommendations for a romantic meal and some privacy afterwards." Alcyr closed his eyes, struggling not to sigh.

"I'll manage on my own. Thank you." Vormas pulled another drake — the last one in the pens, in fact — to the square. The warbeast shuffled uneasily when Ural took the reins, but did not throw the mutant giant off when he mounted it.

"Two riders to a drake," Lenore instructed.

"Alcyr, you will ride with me. Officer Vormas, you will accompany Trooper Ural. It will be a long flight, so pace the warbeast well. We will rest at regular intervals." Alcyr got on the warbeast with the captain. The elder drake did not protest or even waver under the weight of his new gear. Lenore was seated in front, holding the reins. She looked back and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Don't just sit there like that. Grab on to me."

"There's no need. I can balance myself well enough, and—""Alcyr, if you fall, I'm not going to be able to catch you in that armour. It's either you hold onto me, or I strap you down like I did when I rescued you after your duel with Warlord Bjorn."

"... Fine." He moved closer to her, holding her hips. She leaned slightly into him, her lithe form nestling perfectly into his larger physique. Soft, ebony hair tickled his chin, and the faint but pleasant scent of lilac teased his senses. He did not let himself be overly affected by her closeness, but he would not deny that holding her close did not stir… something. A sense of protectiveness, perhaps. Or discomfort at the casual intimacy. He could not tell.

"Ready?" she asked, her voice oddly warm. Alcyr nodded.

"Let's go." The drake roared as Lenore pulled the reins, and they set off into the skies.

Alcyr found flying to be both novel and tiring. The drake's wings beat a steady rhythm beneath him, and for the first hour, it was nothing short of exhilarating. The ground unspooling far below, the wind screaming past... It was an experience riding a horse could not match. But the exhilaration faded soon enough. Riding a drake was worse than a horse, especially given his inexperience.

The saddle demanded a constant tension of the thigh and spine, except that with no ground to absorb the shock, the air would consistently shove, drop and twist without warning. His body ached from resisting against the crosswinds that tried to peel him sideways with every gust. And it was cold, too. The northern winds were already bad enough on the ground. Up in the air, it was several times worse, eating through leather and mail before boring into his flesh and bones. Still, it wasn't all bad.

He got some worthwhile skill experience out of the ordeal. [Natural Resistance has improved to 33] [New Skill: Riding 1 (Common)] They stopped twice to let the drakes rest, dropping into sheltered clearings where the beasts could fold their wings and tear into strips of dried meat while Alcyr worked the numbness from his hands and stamped feeling back into his feet. Each time they stopped, however, he noticed the skies darkening a little more — quicker than they should be.

By the sixth hour, day was bleeding into evening far too fast. The wind that had merely been uncomfortable before now had teeth in them, spreading hoarfrost along the drake's wings. He watched the horizon behind them thicken — not with the ordinary tide of nightfall, but with a far more sinister darkness. A bruised, rolling grey began eating the last of the waning light hours before they were due.

"Blizzard," Alcyr warned.

"Big one."

"I know." Lenore didn't look concerned.

"It's unfortunate, but we can't turn back now."

"Should we seek shelter? Wait out the storm?"

"It hasn't hit us yet. We can still make it to town. It's only an hour's flight away, if we make haste."

"If we get caught in that storm while we are in the air, we are dead."

"Even if we seek shelter out here now, a storm that big will still kill us in time. Only a town and its warmth will save us now. We do not have any other options." The drakes' uneasy shrieking did not inspire confidence, but Alcyr stayed silent and hoped Lenore knew what she was doing. The last stretch pushed them the hardest. The drake's breath had gone ragged. Alcyr lost feeling in his cheeks and fingers. Powerful gales wailed in earnest, as if determined to send them spiralling to the ground.

Alcyr willed the drake to endure a little longer.

"Don't give up on us now! We are almost there!" To his surprise, the drake seemed invigorated by his command. It roared powerfully, briefly drowning out the howl of the winds. [Wildheart has improved to 2] The notification caught him off guard. Lenore's shout snapped him out of his daze.

"Whatever you are doing, keep doing it!" Behind, the other drake lagging behind seemed similarly strengthened by a burst of vigour. Alcyr imagined himself channelling his energies into the beasts. It was awkward, and he had no idea if what he was doing had any effect at all, but the drakes maintained their speed, even as the winds grew stronger and the ice thickened on their wings. [Wildheart has improved to 3] [Riding has improved to 2] Time felt distant.

Each minute spent in flight was a desperate victory, but their mount's stamina was about to run dry. Then, he saw it — a scatter of lights, faint and gold, blinking through the grey and heavy snow. Lafmere. They made it. He didn't remember much of the final approach beyond gritted teeth and a white-knuckled grip, the drake fighting for every wingbeat as the storm's leading edge howled around them. But then the sight of walls and solid houses rapidly rose up beneath them.

The drake's exhausted claws found stone as it landed, and the world finally stopped lurching. Behind, the second drake crashed into the snow. Alcyr immediately dismounted and went to help, ignoring the sudden shouting of the town guards around them, shocked as they were by the two giant warbeasts that just plummeted out of the skies and into the town square. Vormas was pale and shaking, barely holding on to consciousness. Ural looked fine, despite the freezing temperatures.

The giant helped support the exhausted drake, urgently getting it to its feet.

"Worst flight I had in years," the shock trooper laughed.

"Another few minutes, and we would have turned into popsicles! Good job with whatever it was you did with the drakes earlier, Butcher!" Ahead, Lenore had been intercepted by a few armoured guards. After shouting at them through the winds for a few moments, they realised who it was that arrived and hurriedly moved to assist. Minutes later, just as the first true fury of the blizzard crashed down upon the town, the group successfully shepherded the drakes behind stable doors and next to warm fires.

The warbeasts collapsed instantly next to the heat. By the skin of his teeth, Alcyr had survived once more. And I didn't even have to die to succeed this time.