Chương 63: 1 – Epilogue: Suffer No Legends

"Gods be damned! How did they know!? Better yet, explain to me how one woman was able to wreak so much havoc on an entire brigade!?" Maulander shouted as he ripped into a tough slab of overcooked venison. The soldiers were feasting, but there was no celebration. Half the wagons of food had been destroyed, half the soldiers, mostly veterans who had attacked rather than fled, lay dead on the battlefield, and he'd been a blubbering idiot throughout the entire battle.

He'd stored nearly thirty free points, and upon the advice of those few who had been hit by the poisonous attack and retained their wits, dumped them directly into the Disease Protection Skill. It went by several different names, the newest being Chemical Resilience. Until recently, he'd never even heard the word. Chemical, it seemed, meant dishonorable poison. His face burned with an abject shame. He was humiliated. His talent had been completely wasted, his stupid mind too idiotic to use it under the poison.

Instead, he'd just drawn his sword and slashed at the ground for nearly an hour while his men bled and died.

"General… we've interrogated the surviving soldiers thoroughly with Captain Losferor's Talent. We do not think there are any spies," replied Master Guard Tolett. Maulander nodded. He trusted Tolett's judgment. If he said there were no spies, then there very likely weren't. There was an obvious answer to the question, but none of them truly wanted to face it.

"If… if the woman can ride dragons… who is to say she wasn't also controlling the lesser rift monsters?" High Bannerman Marnakus said tentatively. It was a thought they'd all had but it was too terrifying to contemplate. Rift monsters had been known to ambush the unwary and group up against larger threats, but this had felt… coordinated. The entire battle had the feeling of a newborn deity testing its powers.

He'd logically been one of the first targets, and without him or any of the High Bannerman, the army hadn't been able to mount a counterattack until Marnakus put on that gorget. Marnakus… He carefully considered the man who was likely responsible for saving all of their lives. He'd been close to a mutiny just before the battle, and Maulander found himself in the uncomfortable position of feeling guilty. He shouldn't have hit the girl.

A flogging would've seen her properly disciplined, and everything would've been fine. Her words shouldn't have triggered him like that. For that, he'd earned the ire of one of his bannermen and damaged their loyalty. Two of them. He'd noticed Presken's expression just before the dragon attacked. Both of them had disapproved. He'd… made a mistake. He'd not been questioned so directly in quite some time, but the girl was a willful little shit, probably the doll of her town.

There were a hundred privates just like her, grown fat and prideful in the past twenty years of peace. They all thought they were the center of the world. All of them could be moulded into good soldiers, but the girl had been drafted. She was already predisposed to hate him. She had no idea how to behave in the military, and he should've known that! But… she was the spitting image of her mother, and when she'd said those same gods-damned words… He was not a monster. He was not his brother. …

He still couldn't shake the memory of that disappointed expression on her face. He couldn't punish Marnakus. The man had taken strategic command of the army and set up a walking retreat as soon as the dragon died and the woman fled. According to his men, the moment she left, the trolls and goblins began behaving as they typically did. They dashed themselves to pieces on Tacurian shields. Eschal had been proud to proclaim their Chemist as a Masterful talent, but he'd never taken the word seriously.

She might as well have been called the Blodget or the Perzplatz for all that the word 'Chemist' meant to him. Before today. Eschal had raised another Masterful Talent. Possibly even legendary. The thought sent shivers down his spine.

"Are we to assume that every rift monster is a spy? Every goblin reporting our every move back to the Wind Witch?" he asked, doing his best to ignore the shame he felt. Most of this knowledge came from his own men's reports after the fact.

"I hope not, sir. Heavens above, I hope not. But I fear we may be forced to believe such until proven otherwise. We have not been on the road long. To prepare an ambush like that, even with the ability to control the rift, must have required some foreknowledge. I did not know we were traveling south until the day we departed. A spy could have flown from one of the villages on horseback or with a high Running skill as soon as we made ourselves known, but that seems rather unlikely.

What, besides simple enemy observation, makes sense?" High Bannerman Marnakus asked. Anyone living on the rift front gained the Disease Protection skill by mere proximity to dead rift monsters, but the High Bannerman's Gorget, made by his niece, had been what saved him. Even then, he'd had to wrap it around his arm like a lady's favor. This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.

He'd broken bones on a bad fall when the woman's wind magic batted him away, though, and was now wobbling on shaky, freshly-healed legs. Maulander sighed.

"Give… give me the full debriefing. It seems we must thank the heavens we are even alive. The woman was flying? Truly?" The High Bannerman nodded before launching into a full debrief. He made sure to vary his words, different from the last time he'd discussed the battle, while still conveying the same information. It was a good trait in a soldier and might make him a worthy commander someday.

The only solace to Maulander's shame was the fact that the chemical had caught all of them unaware, including Marnakus, who had only regained his clarity by the luck of his niece's crafted item. Even then, he'd stupidly dropped the thing and had to have a healer place it on him. The time between those actions had likely meant hundreds of lives lost. The King and the Duchess could never know of this…

"The frontlines were flooded with trolls and goblins. A young officer named Lieutenant Benethan Soldier evim Tanner distinguished himself by killing a Kerlunka in single combat but was grievously wounded. His entire squad was killed." Maulander's eyebrows rose. He must've missed that in the first brief.

"And the witch? As best I can recall, she was winning. She might've killed us all had she simply stayed," Tolett stated. Marnakus shook his head.

"Most arrows weren't strong enough to penetrate her wind magic, and magic attacks themselves were too weak by the time they reached her, but she wasn't invulnerable. One young soldier's attacks were strong enough to be a threat to her, but he was wounded. Even so, Reid Soldier evim Hunter was able to kill the dragon after the lancers removed some of the scales. With that kill, the man gained enough levels and skill points that his arrows became a true threat to the witch.

She fled shortly after her dragon died," the man replied stoically.

"A flying wind mage with sound magic powerful enough to burst eardrums while flying a hundred feet up. Not only that, but she's also capable of controlling at least one, but possibly hundreds of rift monsters at once. Does that about sum it up?" Maulander asked, irritated.

"We… do not believe it was sound magic. Just the effects of an incredibly high public speaking skill, turned hostile."

"Oh, well, that's so much better! Should we just bend our knees now? What has our army come to, when a boy hunter, barely a soldier, from a backwater village has to save us!?"

"He… had an incredibly potent weapon. We examined it after the battle," Presken said.

"A weapon? From a village boy? How?" he asked.

"According to reports, plenty of talent crafted bows and swords made by craftsmen at the rift didn't prove any more effective than regular weapons."

"My… my niece, sir," Marnakus said. His eyes were wet, lips dry.

"She crafted the boy's bow." Shit.

"Again, the girl! She knew I would be confused. She knew all of us would be confused! I remember. She believed someone was going to poison us, but assumed it would be less… direct. If she hadn't been telling me about the poison before the attack, I'd likely be assuming she was the spy! Bannerman, where is your niece now?" Marnakus bit his lip.

"She's… missing. There was a burst of fire, and she was right at the center of it. No body has been recovered yet." Maulander blanched. Shit, shit, shit!

"I… am sorry. Truly, Bannerman. I acted… rashly," he said, letting his eyes meet Presken's as well.

"I hope she is found." Inwardly, he felt conflicted. He'd never meant the girl any harm. He'd been furious with her mother for many years, but as more and more evidence of his brother's evil came to light... His brother had deserved his execution. Back then, he couldn't believe it. Wouldn't. Bile rose in his throat when he thought about the man he'd looked up to. The monster he'd idolized. Now, still more had been taken from Atrinaska Estermont, and she'd already fallen far indeed if she was going by Farmer now.

"The search parties will find her. Keep heart, High Bannerman," he said. It was the type of nothing sentiment he'd given to grieving families hundreds of times before. This time, he truly hoped they did find her… But he wasn't optimistic. This was war.

"Until reaching at least seventy points in the skill, all free points are henceforth directed to be spent on Disease Protection, Chemical Resilience, or whatever other versions of the skill there are out there. Make a list. It seems we must guard against the very air if we are to emerge victorious. Send at least seven scouts to Neogon immediately. I do not believe he has faced this new wind witch yet. Do we have any mages with communication powers, or talents?"

"None survived. We fear they might have been the first target, even before the command wagons," said High Bannerman Presken. Maulander's eye twitched.

"We don't have time to linger here. At the first hint of dusk, we march. Bury those we can, but rest is more important. Osgren Point is poorly defended and no longer has the safety net of the barrel trap after Neogon used it. I fear another incursion will take them by surprise. More scouts to the south. Send five, by different routes, but make sure our best go east. Neogon remains the priority. If he falls, then we might not have time to worry about securing the rift. Lastly… do we have any assassins?"

Presken blanched, but Marnakus's sadness morphed into something like satisfaction.

"We… we haven't used assassins since the old days. Since before the rift," Presken said.

"Eschal seems to have found a way to make the Rift obey their whims, and they've discovered a weapon that poisons the very air. This is not the old days, Bannerman. I fear it may be worse, and I aim to put my fears to rest."

"Aye. We have assassins," Marnakus said, his voice low.

"Also… my brother. Elmerina's father, joined the army. He was also hit by the confusion powder. If she's dead, I suspect he will be first in line to volunteer, and I've heard some interesting rumors among the soldiers about what he did in Pemolar's Hill."

"Even gods might fear the parent of a murdered child," Maulander said.

"What can he do?"

"Mera made him a weapon, too. If he hadn't been confused, this battle might have gone very differently." Markus said, before pointing to the corner of the room. Maulander had seen the scythe standing there before and found it odd then. He rose and touched it to examine its properties. He shivered. The words of the effect were unassuming at first, but grew horrifying as he thought of some of the harvest-related talents he'd heard of over the years. There was only one sensible conclusion at this point.

Elmerina Soldier evim Farmer had lied about her talent. The thought was a niggling fear, like standing beside a tall cliff and wondering what would happen if he jumped. She was likely only Masterful. There were plenty of reasons for a peasant girl to hide a talent of that level. A masterful talent was amazing. A goldmine, but also potentially dangerous. Clearly, the Chemist had turned Eschal into a juggernaut of a nation, and her talent was masterful. Legendary talents were a different story.

Legends could not be suffered to live, lest they make memories of all around them. Nations washed away like sand with the tide, and their steps sparked revolution. Not one Legendary Talent in recorded history had ever died without causing or ending a war. Their existence was the herald of an ocean of blood. Their deaths, a cause for celebration. That was… pig swill. He scoffed at his own morbid thoughts. He already had enough to worry about with this invasion and the rift.

The girl made a few fancy weapons and predicted an attack. Nothing earthshattering. It could be explained by Masterful. Still… He wondered.