Chương 23: Three Against One

The courtyard erupted in screams. They didn't rise together. The cries came in broken waves; each one belonging to someone who had just learned that armor, rank, shields, and overwhelming numbers meant very little once violet ruin reached them. My blast had torn through half the standing army, and only because I had restrained myself. How disappointing. The front ranks had either vanished or collapsed into ruin. Some soldiers had died instantly, their armor unraveling around bodies that never finished falling.

Others crawled across the broken courtyard with empty hands, staring at the dissolved remains of their weapons as though the metal had betrayed them personally. Horses shrieked and tore against their reins. Royal mages stumbled away from the lingering violet haze, while soldiers who had marched forward with disciplined courage now glanced toward the gates with the desperate intelligence of men reconsidering their chosen profession. The soldiers' fear pleased me.

It was an excellent teacher, and Duke Vale was finally beginning to understand the lesson. Above us, he stood frozen on the balcony, gripping the railing so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. I watched the realization settle across his face, savoring that beautiful moment when a man discovered he had mistaken a cliff for a staircase. Vale had gathered soldiers, hired champions, borrowed royal authority, and wrapped himself in speeches about humanity and noble justice.

He had believed those things would matter once the killing began. Now he understood how little they were worth. Unfortunately, understanding didn't always lead to surrender. Men like Duke Vale invariably kept one final, ugly card hidden in their sleeves.

"Malcolm!" Vera's scream cut through the courtyard. My attention snapped toward the balcony as a side door swung open. Two of Vale's men emerged, dragging Malcolm between them. For one heartbeat, the entire battlefield narrowed around him. He looked terrible. His red hair hung in damp strands, matted with blood and sweat. One eye had swollen nearly shut, and bruises darkened his jaw, ribs, and arms. Cuts covered his face and throat, some fresh and bleeding, others crusted from earlier abuse.

His shirt had been torn open, exposing the wounds carved across his chest and stomach. He could barely stand. In truth, he wasn't standing at all. The men holding his arms were the only reason he remained upright. A broken sound escaped Vera. She lurched forward, but Celeste caught her around the waist before she completed the first step. Duke Vale moved behind Malcolm and pressed a dagger against his throat. The blade bit into his skin, drawing a thin line of blood. Every sound in the courtyard seemed to sharpen.

"Everyone stop!" Vale shouted. His voice cracked at the edges. Rage, humiliation, and panic had twisted themselves together and dressed as authority. Garron Thorne lowered his gauntlets slightly, while Silas Crowe appeared beside the shattered fountain with his sword still raised and his attention divided between me and the balcony. Mirelle Ashford held one hand above her staff, leaving the wall of earth before her half-formed and groaning under its own weight.

Several paces away, Adrian froze with his blade angled toward Garron as the fading remnants of lightning and fire curled around Celeste's fingers.

"From this moment," Vale snarled, "your magic is forbidden." I stared up at him.

"Forbidden?"

"If any of you use even the smallest thread of magic, I will cut his throat." His gaze settled on me.

"That especially includes you, Helena Vaust. If I see so much as a flicker of violet light, I will sever his head and throw it at the princess's feet." Vera swayed, forcing Celeste to tighten her hold. Malcolm's mouth moved. At first, no sound emerged. Then his ruined voice reached us.

"Vera... run..." Poor fool… He was half-dead and still trying to protect her. I raised my eyes to Duke Vale.

"You understand that the moment he dies, your life ends with his." Vale's smile twisted with desperation.

"Perhaps."

"There is no perhaps."

"Then I will die knowing I took something from you first." His answer told me everything I needed to know. Vale was no longer trying to win. He only wanted to make certain I bled with him. That was fine. Clean victories belonged to heroes who expected songs and statues. The ugliest victories were often the most honest, and I had never needed mine to be beautiful. I tilted my head.

"How exactly do you intend to leave this courtyard alive?" His eyes flashed.

"I don't need to leave yet." Vale raised his voice and pointed the dagger toward me without removing its edge from Malcolm's throat.

"Kill that one first!" The remaining soldiers turned their attention toward me.

"She is their leader," Vale shouted.

"The others follow her. If she dies, the other two will break." Celeste became utterly still. Adrian's gaze flicked toward me. The duke's guess had landed closer to the truth than I liked. He didn't understand the bond between us. He couldn't possibly know its exact nature. Yet through instinct, observation, or an astonishing piece of ugly luck, he had discovered the shape of our weakness. If I died, Adrian and Celeste would die with me. My blood sustained our line. I was the root, and they were the branches.

Cut the root, and everything withered. How annoying. I glanced back at them. Celeste had gone pale, but the fear in her eyes had not shaken her resolve. Adrian remained outwardly calm, though the slight tightening of his grip around the sword betrayed how much effort that calm required.

"Adrian. Celeste." Both of them turned toward me.

"You will protect Vera and finish clearing the courtyard." Celeste's eyes widened.

"Mother…" Adrian's jaw tightened as understanding settled over his face.

"You intend to face all three S-ranks alone."

"Yes."

"Without magic," Celeste said.

"Yes." They began to protest at the same time, but I cut them off before either could finish.

"I don't care what arguments you have prepared." That silenced them. Not because I had raised my voice, and certainly not because I was afraid. I had used the tone that ended discussions before they became debates. Authority required very little volume.

"This is our best option. Vale is using Malcolm to restrict our magic, so we will allow him to believe it's affecting us. Adrian, you can fight without it. Celeste, you're not a hand-to-hand specialist, which means you will remain behind him and prevent Vera from becoming another hostage." Celeste's expression darkened, but she stayed silent.

"Use magic only when Malcolm's life isn't at risk. Until then, break bones, steal weapons, throw soldiers through walls, or beat them to death with pieces of the courtyard. I don't care how you accomplish it. Just don't give Vale an excuse to open Malcolm's throat." Celeste looked as though she wanted to argue badly enough to bite me. I almost felt proud. At the same time, I felt like Malcolm was more trouble than he was worth.

"Mother," Adrian said quietly. I met his eyes and gave him a faint smile.

"Clear away the weak ones quickly. Then you can come help me." If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Celeste's mouth tightened.

"You make that sound remarkably simple."

"It's simple."

"No… it's not."

"It will become simpler when you stop talking." Her eyes flashed. Adrian moved first, retreating toward Vera and Celeste. He placed himself before them with practiced ease, his sword raised and his body angled to shield both women. Celeste reached beneath one sleeve and produced a short dagger. I blinked.

"You carry a dagger?" She gave me a sharp look.

"I'm not helpless." My lips curled into a wry smile. Vera stood behind them, trembling as she stared at Malcolm. Tears streaked her face, and her hands had clenched so tightly that her knuckles were white.

"Don't run toward him," I warned without looking back.

"He's bleeding," she said, her voice shaking.

"I'm aware."

"He's hurt."

"Yes."

"He needs help."

"And he will receive none if Vale cuts his throat because you behaved like a tragic idiot." The words struck her harshly, but at the same time, they seemed to get through to her. Vera swallowed and nodded, forcing herself to remain behind Adrian. I turned back toward the three S-ranks. My body surpassed both Celeste and Adrian's in raw power and regeneration, which made this the only choice that gave them the best chance of surviving. The battlefield had already begun rearranging itself.

Soldiers who still possessed some courage moved around the edges of the courtyard, attempting to rebuild their formation. Vale's men appeared emboldened by the hostage. The royal troops looked less certain, but uncertainty killed more slowly than loyalty, and most still held weapons. Garron rolled his shoulders as the force runes across his gauntlets began to pulse. Silas vanished, then reappeared atop a broken stone lion with his sword resting loosely against one shoulder. Mirelle lowered her staff.

The stones orbiting her wrists circled like patient moons. A discarded sword lay near my feet, abandoned by one of the soldiers after my ruin relieved him of both his shield and his enthusiasm. I picked it up and tested its balance. The weapon was an ordinary military blade, serviceable enough, but nowhere near the quality of Adrian's sword. Its grip was slightly too large for my hand, which only made the situation more irritating. After giving it a quick swing, I raised my gaze toward the three mercenaries.

"I gave you an opportunity to leave. Until this moment, I had no quarrel with any of you." Garron snorted.

"You erased half an army."

"They stood in my way." Silas's smile sharpened.

"And now we do."

"Yes." I rolled the borrowed sword once through my hand.

"Which means Stonehaven is about to lose three S-ranks." For a brief moment, none of them answered. Garron broke the silence with a booming laugh, while Silas's smile sharpened into something colder. Mirelle alone continued to study me with measured caution. That made her the only one among them who might understand the danger.

"You truly believe you can defeat all three of us without using your magic?" Garron asked.

"I don't believe it." His grin widened.

"I know it."

"Then come prove it." Something stirred within my blood. It wasn't hunger, but anticipation. Over the years, my power had continued to grow. Feeding strengthened me, but battle shaped me more completely. Whenever something pushed hard enough, the creature inside me answered. My strength increased, speed sharpened, regeneration deepened, and my magic became more destructive with every passing decade. Yet the greatest changes were not limited to my violet ruin.

My body had evolved alongside it, becoming something increasingly difficult to wound and even harder to kill. Sometimes, I wondered why. Why had I been brought into this world? Why had this monstrous nature awakened inside me? Why had I been given power that flourished through blood, violence, and struggle? A suspicious part of me had begun to wonder whether some forgotten god of war had dropped me into existence like a blade into a crowded room. If so, the bastard had excellent taste.

A smile spread across my face as anticipation tightened in my chest. A difficult fight was finally approaching, and some shameful, deeply buried part of me thrilled at the thought. Garron attacked first. His boot slammed into the courtyard, and he drove one gauntlet forward. A shockwave exploded from his fist, tearing across the ground in a broad, invisible arc. I could not answer with my magic, so… I ran directly into it. The force struck me like a charging siege engine. Several ribs cracked at once.

My left shoulder broke beneath the impact, and pain flashed through my body in a burst of blinding white. I continued forward. Bone ground against bone for half a step before my body dragged itself back into alignment. My shoulder locked into place, my ribs knitted together, and the pain became a fading echo as I forced my way through the shockwave. Garron's grin vanished. I closed the distance and thrust the stolen sword toward his throat. Silas appeared between us. His blade flashed upward.

I twisted aside, sacrificing my flank instead of my neck. Steel opened me from rib to hip, spilling a curtain of blood across the broken stones. The wound sealed before the first drops struck the ground. Silas's eyes widened, and then he vanished. Mirelle drove her staff into the earth. Stone hands erupted beneath me and clamped around my ankles. Their fingers locked together, crushing tightly enough to crack the courtyard beneath my feet. I glanced down. Then I tore one leg free.

The stone hand shattered beneath the raw force, fragments spraying across the battlefield. The second restraint held me for one heartbeat longer. Garron used it well. His fist struck the center of my chest. The point-blank shockwave detonated inside me. My sternum shattered. The force hurled me backward through a marble statue, reducing it to a cloud of dust and broken limbs before I struck the ground and skidded across the courtyard. The borrowed sword spun from my grasp. Vera cried out.

Celeste shouted as well, though hers sounded far more angry than frightened. I pushed myself upright. My sternum was broken for a moment. Then it was not. Bone slid back into place beneath my skin. The pressure in my chest vanished as my heart resumed beating without obstruction. I wiped the blood from my mouth and smiled. Garron's laughter slowly faded. Silas appeared beside Mirelle, his attention fixed on the wound that had already vanished.

"That regeneration is going to be a problem." Mirelle's gaze narrowed as she studied me.

"She's buying time." A smile tugged at my lips.

"You could not be more wrong." I rose and retrieved the fallen sword.

"I'm enjoying myself." Across the courtyard, Adrian had become a moving wall between Celeste, Vera, and the soldiers attempting to surround them. He fought defensively, but defensive didn't mean gentle. A royal soldier lunged around his left side, aiming his spear toward Vera. Adrian stepped inside the thrust, stamped sideways against the man's knee, and broke the joint with a sickening crack.

Before the soldier struck the ground, Adrian tore the spear from his hands and drove its wooden shaft into another attacker's throat. The second man collapsed, choking. A swordsman rushed Adrian from behind. Celeste caught the attacker's wrist with both hands, redirected the blade away from herself, and buried her dagger beneath his ribs. When another guard stumbled within reach, she dropped low and sliced through the tendons behind his knee with surprising precision. He screamed and collapsed.

I would compliment her later. Above us, Duke Vale pressed his dagger more tightly against Malcolm's throat.

"I said no magic!" he shouted.

"I'm not using magic," I called back. Another thin stream of blood slid down Malcolm's neck. Vera released a strangled sound. I looked up at Vale.

"Careful. If your hand slips, I stop playing." His expression twitched. The only thing keeping him alive was that narrow piece of steel pressed beneath Malcolm's jaw. Garron advanced again, though the confidence in his stride had become caution. Silas vanished from Mirelle's side as the Stone Matron lifted both hands and tore jagged slabs from the courtyard around me. Three S-ranks stood against one vampire deprived of her violet ruin.

Garron wielded shockwaves, Silas possessed teleportation, and Mirelle commanded the earth itself. How flattering. They attacked together. Garron came straight at me, each swing of his gauntlets releasing bursts of compressed force through the air. Mirelle struck from every other direction, driving spears of stone from beneath my feet while hurling broken slabs toward my head. Silas filled the spaces between their attacks. He appeared as a gray flicker to my right, his blade cutting toward my eye before vanishing.

A breath later, I felt him behind me, steel already descending toward my spine. Then he disappeared again. I moved quickly enough to avoid the worst of their attacks, but several still found their mark. A stone spike punched through my thigh and lifted me half a foot from the ground. I snapped it with one hand and tore myself free; leaving a ragged wound that closed as I landed. Silas appeared beside me and opened my cheek to the bone. I swung for his throat, but he vanished before the blade reached him.

Garron's fist met my guard. The shockwave traveled through the sword, shattering two of my fingers around the hilt. They snapped back into place before my next strike. Mirelle raised a wall behind me. Garron drove both fists forward. I dropped beneath the blast, and his shockwave slammed into the earthen barrier instead. The entire wall exploded, burying Silas's next position beneath a storm of stone. He teleported clear, but his coat emerged torn and dust-covered.

"How graceful," I remarked. He appeared above me. His sword descended toward the top of my skull. I caught his blade against mine, twisted my wrist, and drove my forehead into his face. His nose broke with a satisfying crunch. Silas vanished in a burst of blood and gray cloth. Garron charged before I could pursue him. He swung his right fist toward my head. I leaned beneath it, felt the shockwave tear several strands from my hair, and drove my sword toward the gap beneath his arm.

The blade pierced Garron's armor but failed to sink deeply enough to wound him. He trapped it beneath his elbow and smiled. That was unfortunate. His other gauntlet crashed across my face, snapping my jaw and spinning me sideways. The borrowed sword tore from my hand as I struck the ground. Before I could rise, Mirelle curled her fingers, and the courtyard answered. A pillar of stone erupted beneath me and hurled me into the air, where Silas appeared above with his sword already descending.

The blade drove through my stomach. For one suspended moment, we stared at each other. He expected to find pain in my eyes, perhaps even fear. Instead, I wrapped one arm around his waist. His confidence vanished.

"There you are." I twisted in midair and drove him beneath me. We struck the ground together. Stone fractured in every direction. Silas absorbed the worst of the impact, his body folding against the courtyard before he vanished from my grasp. He reappeared ten paces away on one knee, coughing blood onto the stones. I rose with his sword wound still open through my stomach. Then the flesh pulled itself together. Silas stared. I smiled at him.

"This would be considerably easier if you stopped running." Garron answered with a roar and drove both fists into the ground. A circular shockwave erupted around him, tearing through the courtyard in an expanding ring. I leapt over it, exactly as Mirelle expected. An earthen wall surged into my path, thick enough to halt a cavalry charge. I lowered my shoulder and drove straight through it, bursting from the other side in a storm of shattered stone. For one glorious heartbeat, all three mercenaries simply stared.

I landed in the space between them. Mirelle recovered first. The rings of stone circling her wrists shot toward me, expanding into restraints as they closed around my arms. I caught one and crushed it in my hand, but the second locked around my wrist. Garron swung before I could tear it free. Rather than avoid the blow, I raised the restraint into the path of his gauntlet. His shockwave shattered the stone for me.

"Thank you." My knee drove into his stomach. The larger man folded slightly, and I struck him beneath the jaw hard enough to lift his feet from the ground. Silas appeared behind me. His sword plunged toward my spine. I turned just enough to catch his wrist. Genuine fear entered his eyes as my fingers tightened. Bones shifted beneath my grip.

"I've been trying to catch you." He vanished before I could crush the joint completely, but his escape wasn't clean. Flesh tore beneath my fingers. Silas reappeared near the broken fountain, clutching his injured arm. Blood ran between his fingers, and his sword trembled slightly in his grasp. The borrowed blade in my hand had bent nearly in half. The bent sword was useless, so I cast it aside and curled my fingers as claws pushed from beneath my nails.

Across from me, Garron forced himself upright with blood coating his teeth and strain beginning to fracture his once-confident grin.

"Now that," he said while raising his gauntlets, "is more like it." I bared my fangs.

"You wanted the plague removed." One by one, the remaining wounds across my body sealed themselves. The hole in my stomach vanished. The cut along my face closed, leaving only Silas's blood across my skin.

"Come, then." Above us, Malcolm sagged between Vale and his guards. Behind me, Adrian fought within a tightening circle of soldiers while Celeste guarded Vera with a bloody dagger in each hand. The army still breathed, Duke Vale still held his hostage, and all three S-ranks remained standing. That suited me perfectly… The night was far from over. I stepped toward them with my claws gleaming beneath the cold light, while the last of my wounds sealed across my skin.

"Let us discover how many champions mankind can afford to lose." None of them smiled at my provocation; then all three came for me once again.