Touch of Fate 66 Severance

They were a disparate group pulled from several different gangs, some of which were known enemies. Now they were working together to survive.

At the start of the retreat they had numbered close to 300, but now, less than a third of them remained.

What had started as a underworld gang war had evolved into a full on battle, and their demon enemies were sparing no one.

Initially, the allied Dark Guilds had been able to hold their territories, although at great cost. The Kal class demons were horrifying and numerous, but they weren't a serious threat so long as the thugs maintained their formations. However, that changed as soon as higher classes of demons arrived.

Suddenly, they were taking heavy casualties from all fronts. Entire gangs were overrun in short order. A few if the more prosaic leaders began to pull their men out, but it was too late. More demons poured in from other portions of the city, cutting off their retreat.

Morris managed to rally a small number of the combatants, and led them to the northeast, picking up other survivors as they went. So far they had managed to avoid annihilation, but it had been a close thing.

Adrian and Lorik had disappeared in the confusion, and he hadn't seen Julia since she'd left to spread the word if the attack. He hoped that they were alright, but it was a slight hope.

As he watched, another of his men fell beneath the press of demons, a gaunt, skeletal figure clad in nothing but mottled grey-green skin casually reaching down and easily tearing off the thug's head.

Morris gritted his teeth, hacking at the hollow faced creature with his sword. It recoiled with a hiss, but suffered little in the way of injuries.

"Morris! There's some kind of castle up ahead!" One of the things called

He glanced up, seeing the battlements of a fort.

[What the hells? Why is there a castle in the middle of a residential district?]

A moment later his mind caught up. [The Order if the Shield!]

"Head to the fort! Take shelter there!"

Hopefully, the Order was not yet overrun.

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James walked over, smiling, and clapped Mike on the back. "Well done, lad. I've known a few mages in my day, and I can say with certainty that I've only known a handful that could display that kind of raw power."

"Thanks, but it was a team effort." Mike turned to look at Tal and Brenden. They had definitely been a great help throughout the fight.

Sera, the odd, silver-haired woman was standing a little ways from them, an urgent look on her face.

"Can I speak with you...alone?" She asked plaintively.

Mike shrugged, "Can it wait? We're still in the middle of a battle."

"Its important, and I'm not sure how much longer it can wait."

He sighed, "Alright, so long as we don't go too far."

After traveling a little ways down the road, Mike turned to her.

"That should be far enough. So what did you want to talk about?"

"There are things I need to tell you, things that I don't think you'll believe at first." She was twisting her hands, clearly uncomfortable.

"Go on."

She paused, as if trying to find the right words. "I'm what's known as an Oracle. We carry an ancient bloodline that connects us on a fundamental level with Destiny."

Mike used appraise to verify her statements.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Seraphina Aquilus

Race: Human (Oracle)

Age: 15

Class: Oracle

Tier: 1

Title: First Born of the Aquiline

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[I'm going to have to start using this skill more often. It doesn't give a lot of information, but every bit helps.]

With a grimace, she looked down at her hands, and forced them to remain still. "It lets us see the future to a certain extent, and influence it. I've heard stories of skilled Oracles who could peer through hundreds of possible futures to find the most favorable outcome, but I am much more limited."

"As interesting as this all is, I assume that you have a point?" He asked mildly.

She glared at him, "I was told by a very powerful member of my bloodline, that I need to provide guidance to you, lest you fall to darkness."

Mike studied her. It seemed like she was telling the truth, but he sensed that she was holding something back.

He kept his silence, face neutral, golden eyes staring.

Sera faltered at that gaze, looking away. "I also saw something about what's happening to this city. What will happen if someone doesn't put a stop to it."

"Oh?"

"I saw-"

She suddenly doubled over in pain, hands clasped to her head. Mike caught her in his arms.

"What's the matter?"

She opened her eyes in shock. "Oh no."

Looking up at Mike with a mixture of fear and horror, she croaked "Help."

A sudden surge of hostile intent alerted Mike, but it was already too late.

There was a squelch, and he felt warm liquid hit the skin of his face and hands. A barbed metal point was sticking out of Sera's abdomen.

With a click it opened a grappling hook like head, and before he had a chance to react, the woman was ripped from his arms, hurtling through the air and into a nearby alley.

Mike's anger surged, and he launched himself after the Oracle, in time to see her crash into a heap on the alley floor, before being dragged up the side of one the buildings by a long metal chain emerging from the spear-like weapon that had impaled her.

He followed after, jumping back and forth between the buildings, feet leaving broken masonry in his wake.

His mana had recovered a little, but he was still dangerously low on it.

The analytical portion of his mind determined that since she didn't appear to be losing a great deal of blood, the injury likely didn't damage the abdominal aorta or any other major blood vessels. So, despite how disturbing such an injury was, she wasn't likely to die from it in the near future. As such, it was tactically sound to preserve his mana for an appropriate moment.

The rest of him was just pissed.

[If you think I'm going to let you steal that girl right out of my arms, you've got another thing coming! Especially after all the work I had to do to save her in the first place!]

As soon as he felt the responses from his Detect Hostile Intent, his sword was in his hand. Three cloaked figures descended from the rooftop. Mike expected weapons, but with the figures attacked him with a variety of warped appendages.

The first had a long, stinger-tipped tentacle in the place of his right arm. The face beneath the hood was lit by crazed eyes, and a fanged mouth that extended down the right side of his neck, making him look like a melting wax sculpture.

The second had no arms or head at all, but its torso split open to reveal three separate toothy maws, dripping purple saliva.

The last looked to be a cockroach from the neck down, with wickedly barbed claws at the end of each of its six limbs. Its head was that of a beautiful female elf that could have been quiet charming if it weren't for the two antennae growing from her eye sockets.

A trio of nightmare inducing horrors.

Had Mike found himself facing them in the dark alley even a few hours ago, it might have been enough to give him pause. Now, having fought a literal horde of demonic monstrosities, it was becoming tedious.

He narrowly dodged the stinger arm of the melting man, grabbing the rubbery tentacle and dragging him closer. He jammed his sword into the gaping mouth, leveraging it until the creature had been nearly decapitated. With a twist of his wrist, he pulled the body out of the way, bracing his leg against the wall for his next jump.

Before becoming airborne again, he threw his sword at the beast with three mouths, impaling it between two of them. He jumped, and as it screeched in pain, he grasped its leg and flung it at the third creature with enough force to smash them both against the wall.

He collided with the duo, forcibly driving the sword through both monsters and into the brick wall behind them. The rancid sickening smell of their fetid bodily fluids disgusted him, as he punched himself a handhold for leverage, grasped the hilt of the sword, and swept it out horizontally.

Not bothering to watch as the horrors fell to the ground with a wet 'thud,' he pulled himself up onto the rooftop. He found himself facing a trio of warriors clad in dark full plate armor. They stood around 2m in height.

With the exception of the weapons they carried, they looked identical. One had a large, two-handed sword. Another, a glaive shaped like the head of a serpent. The last was carrying something that resembled a harpoon gun in one hand, and a spear-like object that was still impaling the bloodied Oracle in the other. A long-handled war hammer was strapped to his back.

As Mike landed on the roof, they turned to face him, showing no visible signs of humanity from the black depths of their closed-faced helms. The one wielding the two-handed sword stepped forward, barring his way.

With a voice that seemed to resonate hollowly from the dark suit of armor, it spoke. "Another mortal begging for death, and this one appears to be a welp. Will we ever be done with them? They seem to emerge from every crack like vermin."

He paused for a second, taking in the blood on Mike's sword. "I do believe this welp has killed our cadre of Warped Ones. I was starting to wonder what they were doing."

The one carrying Sera replied, "They were weak. Finish him quickly, we must return to the council."

Mike gritted his teeth. He was starting to get tired of people underestimating him because of his appearance. He launched himself at the trio, fully confident in his skills, but had to quickly redirect his motion into a dodge.

With a skidding headlong slide, he slammed into a pair of crates, shattering them.

[If I hadn't dodged just then I would have been split in two. Who are these people?]

The sword wielding one raised a casual voice of surprise. "Oh? It seems I missed. Was it an accident?"

Mike grimaced as he got to his feet. This was going to be more challenging than he originally thought.

Chapter end