The air was ripe with the scent of death. What little air there was. The toxic miasma that flowed over the walls and sunk deep into the shadows of the ruined village left few pockets that were safe to breathe, and even the brightly burning bonfire that dominated the village circle could only pierce the veil but so far. The shouts and cries of fighting men, wounded men, and dying men echoed dully from within the fog, dampening all other sounds, even one’s own thoughts.

Amarantha wrinkled her nose in disgust but nonetheless set to her work.

The team of mercenaries under Jadis’ command had already landed and secured the open area by the largest house in Nonia. It looked like the locals had been using the structure as a mix between command center and a triage station for the wounded, and dozens of wounded soldiers were already gathered both inside and outside of the building. There was also a pile of bodies stacked to one side, no doubt awaiting transport away from the front lines where they could be safely burned to prevent demonic possession.

Jocelyn was already heading into the structure, with Eir and that human priestess in tow. Karla? No, Cora. That was the name. Amarantha didn’t normally bother to learn the names of soldiers and mercenaries since she saw so many of them, but Cora was one of Jadis’ personally chosen followers, so that bumped her up the ranks, so to speak. She would do the human that much courtesy, at least. Whatever her name, the trio of healers were going about their work, which was good and needed. When that funny Demon Alex joined them, she was sure that every soldier in the village would be able to get the healing they needed. That wasn’t Amarantha’s concern, though. She wasn’t a healer. She was The Mystic. And it was time for her to do her own sort of work.

With a series of mental commands, Amarantha began pulling an assortment of liquids and powders from the various hidden compartments that made up her stone cauldron’s body. A lot of people made the mistake of thinking that Ketty was just a means of transportation and thumbs for the Lares. They were right; Amarantha did use the cauldron for those purposes. But what they often failed to realize was the storage potential of the magic object. In truth, most of the stone cauldron’s huge form was hollow inside. Hundreds of pounds of potion ingredients were contained within, which was how she was able to stay supplied even far from any sort of convenient workshop. Having access to an actual storage room with lots of herbs and beast ingredients was best, but Ketty was the next best thing.

Several soldiers carrying stacks of spears on their shoulders ran by Amarantha, but she paid them no mind. Instead, she commanded Ketty to the village well, where she used a pair of magically powered wooden arms to retrieve a bucket full of water. The fluid was obviously tainted; Amarantha didn’t need any expertise to tell that much. Her nose was enough to sniff out the contamination in the well water. She poured the fouled fluid into her cauldron anyway. There were enchantments built into the stone that would purify all but the worst sorts of pollutants, and if those were in the water, well… Amarantha wouldn’t need to worry about making any potions at that point.

“I know you’ve got Belgramathr,” Amarantha murmured as she began dumping a specific powder into the water. “But let’s see what else you’ve got for me…”

As the mixture swirled into a bright red color, several blobs of blackish blue coagulated throughout the identifying potion. Amarantha grinned at the sight, feeling vindicated in her suspicions. Then, her grin turned into an annoyed growl as strands of a yellowish substance began to thread their way through the mixture like strings of snot.

“Well, step on my tail,” the Lares huffed as she began sorting through what ingredients she was going to need. “This is going to be expensive. Wilhelm is going to need to buy me another bag of silver lotus root when we get back to the city. If we can even get it in this shitty country. Or maybe I can convince Jadis to get me some? She likes me enough for that much, right?”

As Amarantha talked to herself, she mentally commanded her Ketty to vent the foul potion out of the cauldron basin. The mix had identified what the sources of the miasma were, which as expected, had been largely from Belgramathr Demons and their awful emanations. There were a couple of stronger, fungal-based spores in the air, though, which would need to be addressed as well. Regardless, Amarantha knew what she had to work with, so the identifying potion had no further use. The mix poured out of the bottom of the cauldron, making a mess on the ground, though with how muddy everything was it wasn’t as though anyone would be able to tell.

Amarantha had often considered adding a spout to the underside of her Ketty so that she could direct any unneeded liquids she was disposing of in specific directions. However, when she had tried to make the modification, Wilhelm had put his foot down and prevented her. Too phallic, he had said of her design.

Of course it had to look like a penis. It was literally a spout hanging between four legs. What else was she supposed to make it look like? A goose?

Such frivolous thoughts passed in and out of Amarantha’s head as she put most of her attention on the anti-miasma potion she was crafting. If she was doing the mix properly, in a workshop, it would take at least six hours to boil, reduce, refine, and combine the various reagents necessary for this particular potion. However, she was The Mystic, so she had skills and spells that allowed her to circumvent most of those physical requirements. The cost for such expediency was a lot of magic, naturally, and also a loss of efficiency on the ingredient quantities. She could have made three times as much anti-miasma with the same amount of powders if she had the time to do it right. But, she didn’t, so barreling through using the quick and easy method was what she had to do. Honestly, making potions like this made her feel a bit like Ludger, the big lug, who was also prone to just pushing through an obstacle rather than using any amount of finesse. Still, needs must.

“Hey! Hey, you!” Amarantha called out to a soldier who was running by. “You! Where are the—”
The man shouted something in Voltonian at her and ran past without stopping.

“Well, fuck me then,” the Lares said with an agitated ear twitch. “I’ll find my way on my own.”

Heading to what she was pretty sure the south side of the village, Amarantha kept an eye to the sky. It was hard to see anything thanks to the omnipresent fog, but the huge shadow of Jadis’ Leviathan overhead acted as an anchoring guide. Then there was the sudden crack of thunder that came from somewhere ahead, which told her that she was going in the right direction. The trio of shells had been spotted south of the village, so that was where Amarantha needed to go.

Well, not all the way to the shells. Just the walls that overlooked that general direction would be enough. Amarantha was The Mystic, but that didn’t mean she belonged on the battlefield. She was there to support the fighters, not do the fighting herself.

As she traversed the befouled village-turned-barracks to get to the wall, Amarantha spotted several familiar faces. The Dryad, Tegwyn, and the mercenaries under his command were helping with the defenses, not just guarding the healers. The bald man, T-something, was running back and forth, carrying supplies forward and wounded men back to the triage station. At one point, the elf with a big mouth leapt across the village rooftops. Amarantha had no idea what that was about, but as long as the man didn’t fall on top of her, she supposed it wasn’t her business. When a shadowy figure flew overhead, she thought it might have been Jadis for a moment, until she recognized the blue wings on the large form. Tacitus, the male from the Seraphim siblings. He had something in his arms, possibly a person, but he flew by too fast for Amarantha to really make out what he had held.

Eventually, Amarantha made it to the fortified wall that gave the village defenders both cover and some height. It was good timing, since the anti-miasma potion she was brewing was just about done. There was a ramp up, thankfully, as navigating ladders was not Ketty’s strong suit. When Amarantha got to the top of the wall, she squeezed her way past the soldiers and their bows and slings to get a good look over the edge to the south.

She couldn’t see much beyond the frequent flashes of magic. She easily recognized Willy’s golden light, and the purple lightning had to be the three shells. How they worked was a mystery, but clearly, they had some powerful offensive magic this time around. There was also a red glow coming from the fires, and—

“Ah, by my flaming butt,” Amarantha cursed as a bright explosion of some kind pierced the fog. “Tiernan! You are such a bag of slugs!”

Considering what Wilhelm and Jadis had said of the first shell, and the bright intensity of that explosive flash, Amarantha guessed that Tiernan had cast one of his more powerful spells against one of the impenetrable Demon spheres. The damn gnome had to test everything, even if he knew what the end result would be.

“Alright then,” Amarantha sighed as she angled Ketty to face the direction of the flash. “If Tiernan is going to be a fool, we might as well be able to see how he’s failing, hmm?”

With a small expenditure of magic and another mental command, Amarantha forced the finished solution to aerate and sent the resulting cloud of anti-miasma mist into the air towards where she imagined the shells would be.

To her great satisfaction, the miasma parted like flame touched to lint as her potion spread. The foul mist fled from the solution, or rather, was eaten up by the mixture, creating clear air that was safe to breathe. More importantly, it removed the fog that had blocked vision of the battlefield, and for the first time Amarantha was able to see the Demon shells and the horde of monstrosities that surrounded them.

Shell was the right word. Just as had been explained to her, the stone domes were made of hexagonal plates that had been fitted tightly together. However, Amarantha did not recall from any of the descriptions the sharp point that had been set at the top of each of the three domes. The spikes looked like they were made from metal, possibly copper, and were at least ten feet tall. Amarantha wasn’t sure what their purpose was, but she didn’t think they were present on the previous shell. Tiernan certainly would have mentioned something so unusual.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it’s taken without the author’s consent. Report it.

A loud banging sound caused her ears to perk up, and Amarantha swiveled her attention to the earthen berm that the soldiers were defending to the south of the village. There she spotted Ludger, along with the fierce therion, Noll, on the top of the embankment. The two were knocking aside attacking Demons left and right, holding what looked like a breach in the wall. Beyond them, Amarantha thought she spotted the red hair of the mage, Aila, but the constant commotion made it difficult to see.

The wave of Demons that were pushing forward were mostly mire hounds, but a line of stony simulacrums were marching two-abreast towards the breach. Their movements were perfectly in step with each other, creating a scene that reminded Amarantha of ants trying to steal a few crumbs from an untidy kitchen floor. Following the line with her eyes, the Mystic tracked them back to their source, which was a huge group of the simulacrums gathered in the space between the trio of shells. It looked like they were guarding something in the middle of their formation, though Amarantha couldn’t see what it was.

Just as she spotted a dark shape among the stone figures, an armored knight with blazing white tendrils for wings dove out of the sky, aiming for the middle of the pack. Amarantha had no trouble recognizing one of Jadis’ three forms as the flying attacker, and she braced herself for what was no doubt going to be a spectacular crash among the Demons. In the next instant, however, Amarantha was blinded by a bolt of lightning that arced up to meet the Nephilim warrior. A heartbeat later and the woman was sent crashing to the ground far outside of the trio of domes.

For a second, Amarantha felt genuine panic rise inside her belly at the sight of Jadis’ prone form. The lighting bolt that had struck her had looked powerful enough to shatter even Ludger’s defenses. She didn’t want Jadis to be hurt, or worse. However, the moment of panic subsided when she saw that the Nephilim still had her wings. If she had been felled, the spell would have ended, so clearly Jadis was still alive. When the prone figure started moving, Amarantha let out the breath she hadn’t realized she had been holding.

“These shell things have more offensive power than the first one, it seems,” Amarantha said to no one in particular. It wasn’t as though the soldiers defending the walls around her would have understood Imperial anyway. “But Willy and Rein got inside their defenses pretty easily last time. What’s the hold up?”

Scanning the battlefield, it didn’t take Amarantha long to spot the issue.

Wilhelm was at the base of one of the domes, his golden sword shining even more brightly in the dark of the night with the miasma temporarily dispelled. Halvor and Rein were nearby, and all three men were using their weapons to cut and slash at the ground along the edge of the hexagonal shell. However, even at a great distance, Amarantha could see that the ground was filling itself in, growing up and over the lip of the dome, even. For every piece of rock the three men shattered, twice as much regrew to take the stone’s place.

Going under wasn’t going to work this time, it seemed.

At least, that was probably what the cultists who had designed the impressive shells had thought. Clearly, they didn’t know the Hero’s party very well. And they severely underestimated Tiernan’s creativity.

A rumbling jolt shook the land for a moment before a ridge of stone rose up from the ground in front of the most forward of the three domes. The stone forced the lip of the shell up away from the field of mud and muck, causing gaps to form along the left and right edges of the dome. Immediately, the three men dove at the edges and began cutting at whatever had been exposed inside. Amarantha didn’t have the best view of the assault, but she could see that elemental magic of varying types was being used to defend the gaps, so there were spell casting Demons inside the shells, at a minimum.

Running her gaze across the field again, Amarantha saw more signs of allies fighting the Demons along the walls, as well as a large push of Demons renewing their assault against the village. Most of her allies were along the breached berm, where the fighting was worst, leaving just the bedraggled soldiers defending the walls of the Nonia. From a glance, Amarantha saw one of Jadis’ bodies, the one who had been knocked out of the sky, still on the ground but on her feet and fighting the Demons who had surrounded her. The Jadis was between her and the breach, roughly two hundred yards away. The other two Jadis’ weren’t visible, but Amarantha was fairly certain she had seen flashes of her strange wings flying overhead.

“Okay, time to put a little more pep in the step of these mortals,” Amarantha announced after assessing the situation. “They’re going to need some energy if they want to keep these walls clear of Demons.”

Pulling out the previously prepared potion, Amarantha uncorked the bottle and poured it into her Ketty’s cauldron. With another mental command, she began to saturate the wall surrounding her with an energizing effect that would boost the stamina of the weary soldiers. As long as they held out for a little while longer, Willy and Jadis and everyone else would be able to take care of the domes, and then the horde attacking the walls and berms would be easy to dispatch. All she had to do was keep them fighting, and—

Suddenly, Amarantha wasn’t sure where she was. Everything was black around her. Or was it white? An undefined, unknowable color had wrapped itself around her head, covering her eyes and stoppering her ears. Not only could she see nothing, but all she could hear was a dull rumble and a high-pitched ringing. Was she hurt? She thought she was. But for the life of her, Amarantha couldn’t remember doing anything to get herself injured.

Well, surely Wilhelm would come around and pick her up if she had been hurt. He always had. All she needed to do was to lay down and rest while she waited for him to save her. She was feeling tired, anyway. Awful, really. But that horrid smell of rotting mud was making it so hard to sleep.

Rotting mud?

Amarantha jolted, her whole body going stiff as she remembered where she was, or rather, where she had just been. Reaching out with her magic connection to Ketty, she tried to get to one of her healing potions. Ketty was nearby, but there was distance between them. And for some reason, the stone cauldron couldn’t move to her location.

Doing her best to clear her vision, she blinked and shook her head while struggling to stand. Something heavy had fallen over her back, but Amarantha was still able to pull herself forward and out from under the weight. Something was wrong with her back left paw, she realized the moment she tried to put any pressure on it. The pain was starting to kick in, dull throbbing rising to a sharp spike, but Amarantha ignored it. Pain had its uses, but it wouldn’t do her any good if it stopped her from getting to the aid she needed. Limping forward, half blind and barely able to hear, Amarantha reached Ketty and used the construct to pour a healing potion directly over her eyes and face. Drinking it directly would have been better, but with her lack of sight, just getting the substance on her was enough to at least clear her vision.

Destruction. Pure destruction surrounded her. Wood and stone and dirt debris was piled high around her. Bodies, soldiers and Demons alike, were mixed into the pile. Most were burnt to a crisp, with many crushed under the stones and wood as well. As her eyes healed and her hearing came back, Amarantha’s scattered awareness pulled itself back together and she realized what had happened.

The trio of Demon shells. They must have struck her position with a blast of lightning. Looking at where she was, Amarantha realized that the only reason why she wasn’t dead was because of all the potions she had taken to boost her defenses during the flight. That, and she was virtually immune to most forms of heat thanks to being a Lares. The lightning had baked the poor mortals who had been on the wall with her, but she hadn’t suffered quite as badly.

She’d still been blown up, though, right along with the defensive barrier that had been keeping the horde of Demons out of Nonia village.

A crackle of movement near her caused Amarantha to flinch. Spinning around, she saw the clawed limb made of sticks and mud just in time to dodge back and out of the way. While the Demon’s attack missed her, Amarantha still let out a mewl of pain as her left rear paw bent in a way that it wasn’t meant to. Unable to put distance between herself and the lunging mire hound, she commanded Ketty to toss one of the special potions at the Demon.

Glass shattered against the monstrous mud beast, causing a plume of yellowish smoke with red sparkles to fill the air. There was no cry of pain from the Demon, not that the creature had the capacity to make noise, but the effects of the potion were instantaneous and lethal. The mire hound’s body shriveled up like a dried fish, with most of the mud flaking off while its limbs fell apart. A more powerful Demon would have possibly been able to resist the potion’s effects, but Amarantha thanked Destarious for being kind to her by sending a mere mire hound after her tail.

When the shattering stomp of a colossal stone simulacrum crushed the rubble a few yards away from her, Amarantha immediately reversed her praise. Fuck Destarious and his mercurial luck.

Trying a few more mental commands, Amarantha quickly realized that there was no use. Hundreds of pounds of rubble had partially covered her Ketty, making it impossible to access the majority of her pre-mixed potions, never mind her ingredients. Since it was one of the few things still available to her, Amarantha had her cauldron pour a second healing potion onto her to help with her broken leg and then took a Strength empowering bottled potion in her teeth. With no other option left to her, she limped as fast as she was able away from the pursuing simulacrum.

All she needed to do was get inside the village. There were allies beyond the shattered walls. Even if the soldiers were dead, her companions would be nearby. Surely Jocelyn or Ludger or even Tiernan would have noticed the destruction of the wall. Wilhelm would have sent Rein or Halvor over to reinforce the breach, or even done so himself. It was hard to tell where she was going thanks to the dust in the air, but Amarantha was certain that one of her friends would be right around the next broken log or shattered rock, ready to help her.

When the huge blocky fist smashed into the ground mere inches away from her, Amarantha could only let out a small and muffled yowl of terror. With her leg still lame, she couldn’t outrun even the slow-moving stone Demon. She dared a glance over her shoulder, only to see the impossibly large maw filled with sharp stone spikes mere feet behind her. Darting forward, Amarantha focused on staying ahead for just a little bit longer. She was a Hero’s companion. She was The Mystic. She was Wilhelm and Jocelyn’s friend. She wouldn’t die here and now to a lesser Demon. She wouldn’t die to any Demon at all. She was going to live through the damned invasion, and have a lot of baby Lares who she could teach to be just clever and skilled as she was. Someone would save her.

Someone…

Anyone…!

When the shadow fell across her again, Amarantha lunged to the side, knowing even as her back leg gave out that she wasn’t going to be able to get out of the way in time. As her last moment on Oros seemed to slow down, she refused to close her eyes before meeting her end. If she was going to die, she would at least face her end bravely, with her gaze undaunted. Which was why she was able to see the huge dark figure appear out of the corner of her eye, its form surrounded by a halo of glowing white light.

A catastrophic crash of metal on stone forced Amarantha’s ears to lie flat against her head as the unrelenting simulacrum was punched so hard that the top of its body was blown away into pieces. Before the lower half of the Demon’s destroyed form even fell to the ground, Amarantha felt herself being scooped up by a pair of large, strong hands that gingerly cradled her without disturbing her injured leg. When the Mystic looked up, still too shocked to speak, her eyes focused on the pale, strange, and yet somehow bizarrely beautiful face of the last Nephilim.

“Hey there, Ammy,” Jadis grinned down at her. “Need a lift?”

Amarantha could only nod dumbly in reply as her heartbeat fluttered like some kind of feckless butterfly. She knew she had more important things to worry about, but for some reason, all she could really do was stare at the strangely attractive avatar as an unfamiliar sensation seemed to bubble up inside of her stomach. It was like she had drank one of her more experimental concoctions without realizing she had done so. The longer she stared at Jadis, the more her flames seemed to heat up without her conscious intent.

Looking down at her with those suddenly captivating eyes, Jadis gave her a quizzical look, before asking a question that flooded Amarantha with the heat of embarrassment.

“What’s with the bottle?”

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep