The Forsaken Hero

The streets of Heartland City buzzed with commotion. It had been a day or two since the battle, but news and rumors of the battle accompanied every conversation. The damaged areas of the city, of which there were more than a few, had been cordoned off by the guards. Mounted patrols moved through the busy streets, struggling against the flow of people like fish swimming upstream.

I strode through the city, barely bothering to conceal myself with my cloak. I might have made a greater effort, but with Fable trotting at my side, any attempts at subterfuge would have been futile. For his part, he seemed to have gotten bigger than before, nearly eight feet in length, his head almost level with my shoulders. His soul constantly shuddered, straining against its boundaries, pushing toward fifth level.

Sensing the unpredictable power surging through his veins, the crowd gave us a wide berth. I saw many looking at his infernal appearance and the red hair spilling from my cowl, but even if they realized who we were, none dared approach us.

As for myself, I felt stronger than I had in months. Having slept for almost an entire day, and with Fable’s strengthening presence, I had fully recovered from the fight with the inquisitors. Even after destroying the core and healing myself, my soul brimmed with power. I wasn’t as close as Fable, but fifth level wasn’t far away now.

Before long, the City Lord’s mansion came into view. I had seen many different Lord’s residences in our travels, ranging from the Slave Warehouse of High Valley to the magic tower of Western University, but this one most resembled the fortress of Viriden. Walls wrapped the central keep in a curtain of unyielding stone, towers set at regular intervals across the parapets, topped by massive ballistae and waving pendants. Guards patrolled along the heights and at the gates, challenging any who sought entrance,

Hidden to most eyes, countless enchantments fortified the walls and provided buffs to defenders. The ballistae were also enchanted, their bolts bearing runes with interference mana akin to Dispel Magic, allowing them to tear through shields and barriers with ease. Even had I come with an army, attacking a fortress such as this would have been suicide.

Fortunately, the keep wasn’t our target, or I really might have given up. After spending a few minutes observing the castle, I tore my gaze away. According to Alverin, the Circle’s hideout was beneath it. Sneaking in and out of the castle every single time would have been too great a hassle, meaning there were likely hidden entrances within the city.

”Alright, let’s go,” I said, patting Fable’s head.

Time was growing short and it wouldn’t be long before guards began sniffing around. Fable was too eye-catching, especially after the battle yesterday. Even if he wasn’t thirty feet long, his infernal appearance and the presence of a red-headed demonkin were certain to attract attention. The Circle would be on the lookout too, especially after I shattered their espionage magic.

Turning from the main courtyards surrounding the keep, we slipped into the streets beyond. The mansion was the center of the mercantile district, with countless shops and warehouses lining the streets. In the brief time I’d spent exploring the city with Tana, we’d never come anywhere near here, but getting lost wasn’t particularly a concern. The city was designed such that, as long as we weren’t in a narrow alley, the towers of the central keep towered over the rest of the buildings, giving us a central landmark to work from.

After a few short minutes, I came to a stop before a gaudy, showy shop. The storefront featured a long, decorative chain winding around the exterior and a large painted rune, the one for ”wealth,” above the door.

”You’re kidding,” I muttered, peering through one of the windows. Were they even trying to hide it?

The Unbroken Chain, the trading company used as a front for the Circle, was busy with customers. But even the bustle did little to distract from the complex series of magic circles wrapped around the back counter. It wasn’t an illusion, as I was expecting, but rather an enchantment fortifying the counter, as though they were worried about someone breaking it.

Staff in hand, I sighed and walked through the door. Eyes turned toward me, landing heavily upon my demonic features. The Unbroken Chain was well known as a slave trader in Brithlite, and even if they traded ”normal” goods here, the sight of a demonkin walking around brazenly was striking. More so when an infernal wolf entered, sauntering through the doorway as though he owned the place.

”No animals!” the clerk said, stalking over with his hands on his hips.

”I’m a tamer,” I murmured, keeping my eyes downcast. ”He won’t hurt anyo-”

”I was talking about you, filthblood,” the man growled, ”Get the hell out of my store. Even if I can’t enslave you here, no one’ll raise an eyebrow if I put a demon slut in her place. It’s been a while since I enjoyed someone so tender...”

His scowl twisted into a leer, sending a shiver down my spine. I took a hesitant step back, emboldening the man. He raised a hand as though to strike me, but froze as a deep, resonant growl reverberated through the store. The very air shuddered as Fable released his aura, his lips curling back to reveal his teeth.

Taking a deep breath, I walked past the frozen man, who stood trembling, unable even to lower his hand. The customers in the store were likewise suppressed, unable to handle the full pressure of my angry wolf.

A scream rang outside as someone glanced through the open doorway, but I walked, unconcerned, to the counter. It was unremarkable in every way, the spells on it were invisible to the ordinary eye, but to to me, they couldn’t have put up a bigger flag that there was something they wanted to keep private. Given the store’s proximity to the keep, there was only one option.

”Dispel Magic.”

The ensuing swell of chaotic mana churned around the desk, ripping and tearing at the multitude of enchantments. Within seconds, even the strongest, a fifth-circle spell with an illusory effect, disintegrated, unable to withstand the storm. The counter, which had hitherto been saturated with spells, groaned and cracked, the strain of their sudden absence too much for it to handle.

The frenzied breeze caused by the vortex of disruptive mana blew apart the fragments, revealing a staircase descending into the depths of the earth. Faint light crystals glimmered at the bottom, illuminating a narrow hallway leading off toward the keep.

”W-what the hell are you doing?” the shopkeeper stammered, forcing the words past chattering teeth, ”Once they find out what you’ve done, nothing will save you from-”

”Fable?” I didn’t bother looking at him, my voice soft and quiet. But the man shut up the instance the large wolf’s eyes locked with his.

”Wait, spare me!” he cried, tears leaking from the corner of his eyes.

Ignoring his screams, I carefully descended the staircase. The air grew colder and thicker with each step, clinging to me in unseen tangles. My breath caught as I reached the bottom and a surge of oppressive sensations enveloped me, overflowing with the fetid stench of unwashed bodies, rot, and death. The dark held no secrets, but the crude, foreboding tunnel made my tail curl. Pausing at the bottom, I stole a glance back at the distant patch of light above, reassured only as Fable padded down beside me.

Blood dripped from one of his long, jagged claws, leaving wet paw prints on the stone behind him. A flicker of unease wormed into my mind; rescuing the foxkin children was all that mattered, but this...did he really have to die? I had killed before, but always in self-defense, never like this, in cold blood. The shopkeeper hadn’t even been first level, much less capable of defending himself.

The question ate at me until I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing Sari’s smiling face to the forefront of my mind. I couldn’t let this bother me, not when she was trapped and crying, alone in the dark, just like me. I had to save her, or I would...I would...

Fable cocked his head, a low whine in his throat. The noise shook me from my thoughts, and I touched my cheek, startled to find them wet with tears. Scrubbing them away, I pushed forward, forcing myself into the musty darkness of the corridor. No matter how alien or afraid I was, the guilt that gnawed at my heart would pale in comparison to that if I failed to save them.

The tunnel mirrored the old mining pictures I’d seen in my past life. It was low and narrow, claustrophobically so, propped up by rotting timber and boards. The supports groaned and swayed with irregularity, letting streams of dirt dribble onto my cloak. The floor was scarcely more than sprinkled gravel on hardpacked dirt, rolling unevenly beneath my boots.

Barely a few steps later, heavy vibrations shook the tunnel, showering us with rock and stone. A cave-in? The thought of being buried alive again set my pulse racing, and I clutched my staff, knuckles white.

After what felt like an eternity, the shaking ceased. Fable glanced at me curiously, dislodging the piles of dirt and gravel from his coat with a shake. Slowly, my panic subsided as I realized what it was–the heavy rumble of the mercantile wagons passing on the streets just a dozen feet above.

”Sorry,” I muttered, my tail twitching in embarrassment. ”There wasn’t even a dragon this time, just my memories.”

My voice faded into the darkness, the silence oppressive following the quake. Drawing my cloak tight about me, I set off down the tunnel, comforted by the soft, even, footfalls beside me. Wagons still rumbled overhead, each one making my step falter, but Fable’s steady pace nudged me on.

Beyond the last bend, dim lights pierced the gloom, revealing a sturdy wooden door banded with iron and girded with stone. And before it, two armed men, their cloaks as dark as the tunnel itself, turned, alerted by the oncoming sound of my footsteps. As they squinted into the dark, their hands fell to their swords, and I heard Fable growling behind me ominously.

”Halt! Who goes there?”