Siegmar would like to preface this by saying that he has no idea what he’s doing as he stood next to his father and awaited the demon invasion.
First, his Patron is not Fenrir no matter how much he had prayed and hoped for. If only because he wanted to piss off his father who was the worst traditionalist in terms of the Pantheon and how ‘Loki’s Chosen are all lying liars who lie’. That did not work out for him, actually his Patron is Tyr.
Second, Keith, the son of Astra who is the village’s number one mage, is the reincarnation of a historical figure many love to hate and just dropped the bomb that apparently Oryath the Traitor is the one who sealed off the evil world ending demonness Tiamat. He’d like to think he kinda saw it coming. The son of such a strong mage had to have something going on and it wasn’t a secret in the village that he had withdrawn into himself due to some complication or the other.
Third, some foreign guy by the name of Leonith (which, he’d like to say sounds a bit on the nose considering it’s a few letters away from Orionith), comes in and says there’s going to be an invasion by a number of demons no one is sure about.
So yes, he was having a weird week.
Eloise says he’s taking this pretty well but maybe that’s because she managed to sneak in and see Auntie Agnes drinking her weight’s worth in beer. But then again, it’s Auntie Agnes. She often goes to him and tells him things like how to trick people into giving him 5% less taxes in trade accords without them even noticing or being able to say anything back.
At least, he’ll be able to use this gift from Tyr in the invasion. Maybe being chosen by Tyr isn’t as bad as he thought it would be.
It starts way too early in the morning for Keith’s liking. He didn’t have any dreams of his past life or of Oryath’s, but it wasn’t as peaceful as he had liked. He often stirred at any sounds because he wasn’t sure when the invasion would start. Luckily, Leonith had a better time than him, judging by the lack of dark circles around his eyes.
The loud war horn alerted them all that the invading demons have been sighted and the rush to get ready is imminent. All non-combatants have been escorted and are currently being guarded. Most likely his mother was back there guarding them since she probably needs to rest up more after dealing with the Yggdrasil sapling.
“Hey, can you bless water?” Keith asked, as he outfitted himself in light leather armour.
He’s happy to keep throwing knives of all kinds as well as bottles of empty glass bottles. His mother uses these more than he has, for medicine and potions but eh, circumstances, she won’t be mad at him at any rate. He raised up the bottles and jiggled them around, letting them clink harmlessly against one another.
Leonith blinked. “I think I can. One of my skills in Holy magic allows me to cleanse objects. I’ve never tested it on water before.”
“Perfect, time to experiment.”
Now armed with bottles of maybe-holy water, Keith double checked his knives.
“Alright, I’m ready, are you?”
Leonith took off the cross necklace, the cross growing in size until it became a greatsword. “Ready.”
The people are grim and at the helm stood the Jarl, with Siegmar, standing behind him. He can’t spot Eloise but that might be because she’s with the back lines alongside the other support mages. She doesn’t have enough experience with her magic and unlike Leonith who clearly could wield that greatsword of his (and it is a rather beautiful sword) and Keith who’s here because leashing a chosen of Fenrir is the worst idea anyone has and thus they let him decide which side of the lines he’s going in.
He’s not sure about Siegmar but it looks like he’s going to be playing support for his father.
The invasion came with the sound of hissing, spitting, and drums.
And thus, begins the first time Keith ever truly handled the gifted magic of Fenrir. Spirit chains glowed into existence, swirling around his forearms and orbiting in place. His throwing daggers are ready in his hands as they stand ready.
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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His tail swished around, in slow sweeping motions to reflect his anxiety.
“Release!”
A volley of arrows flew overhead. With his ears, he can hear the arrows find their way home. His other hand reached for the glass bottle on his side. Besides him, Leonith took a deep breath.
“I can sense them. They’re right outside of the barricade.” He said, his eyes glued ahead of them.
Keith gulped. “… Right.”
The Jarl yelled another order. “Pour the oil!”
He wrinkled his nose at the smell of hot oil and burned demon flesh. The sound of hissing grew louder, and then what was hissing became wails. But the thing he focused on the most is the melting ice.
“Stand ready! They’re melting the ice barriers!”
Leonith spoke again, keeping him updated. Honestly, he’s thankful for it because knowing lessened the anxiety a bit. “The oil and the arrows got rid of a few but it’s not enough to stop the army. I suspect there might be some lower level flame demons in there.”
“The barricades are broken! Charge!” The Jarl exclaimed, leading the fight, in his hand is a heavy hammer that sparked with the promise of electricity.
Keith and Leonith advanced, joined by the rest of whoever was in there.
Now that the barricades are broken, they are open to the battlefield. Keith’s just happy they’re not doing this in a city defense style because he won’t be able to do his usual style of fighting. In a flash, he teleported, flashing from one place to another.
Knives flew, finding necks and heads, the chains whipped around, pushing or grappling his target as his pleases. Despite only having gained the gift of binding and the wolfish features of Fenrir, he felt as if he knew it all his life.
Swing. Drag. Push. Pull. Throw. Throw. Throw.
Oh. Oryath used the same weapons when he was alive. It almost makes sense. He scoffed as he downed another demon. For all intents and purposes, it seems Fenrir gifted him what Oryath had used back then. The memory of flowing through these movements easing him into the battle.
He gets a close call with a demon’s sword. His heart raced as he stepped behind his opponent and kicked them down before throwing a knife at their neck. The close call is enough warning to bring him back to the fight. His vigor renewed.
In a swift onslaught of chain and dagger, alongside his flashsteps, the demons were hard pressed in fighting him. His speed meant they couldn’t land a hit on him. Yet, whenever he took one down, it seems two more popped up to replace their fallen brethren. He jumped up to avoid a spear, using the chain to smack them away.
His ears heard something flying in the wind and he twisted mid air to avoid it.
“Watch where you’re aiming!” He yelled as he watched a sword fly through the air and impale another demon, black blood dripping to the ground.
“Sorry!” Came the voice of Siegmar.
That’s Siegmar’s gift?! He scowled to himself, moving to grab more throwing daggers only to realize he ran out.
In a flash he stepped next to Siegmar, his chain grabbing a demon that had tried to stab him in the back. He yanked the chain, snapping its neck and stepping over it.
“Siegmar, how much is your control over those swords?” Overhead, more swords appeared, following the wave of Siegmar’s hand.
“Full control, why?”
Keith grabbed a glass bottle, the water sloshing inside. “Give me more throwing knives and leave some swords over our heads as platforms for me.”
“Done.”
While plenty of swords flew and found their home in a demon’s chest, a few were left in the air, floating horizontally like platforms.
He flashed on them. In one smooth motion, he uncorked the glass bottle with his teeth and splashed the water.
Come on, come on!
Hissing greeted his ears as demons below howled and burned. Any who survived the splash were cut down by those below. And if they missed a spot, that’s what his chains and knives were for.
It went on like that, flash, splash, kill.
Flash. He appeared above head, standing on a floating sword.
Splash. The water splattered against the demons below. Their hissing cries and wailing burns distract them from the battle.
Kill. Any demons that weren’t heavily affected by the splash were killed through his knives.
If Keith was honest, he was moving on autopilot at this point. His mind dulled by the actions as he enacted his plan. It might be because of this that he didn’t notice a black arrow shooting at him.
He stumbled off the sword, hissing as he flashed beside whoever was closest.
“Keith!”
Ah, good he’s with Eloise.
Seeing her worried eyes, he grinned only to groan in pain as he distrubed the arrow lodged in him back. Oryath’s memories were good at giving him an advantage with his new chains but it did not give him a higher pain tolerance.
“I’m treating you.”
“Do it. And make it fast, I still-.” He made a choking noise as Eloise broke off the arrow shaft. “I still have two bottles of holy water to go.”
“Let the cold numb you.” She sighed as she began working to extract the arrow head.
It was silent as she did this, the only sounds being the battle and even that felt farther away than he thought it would. He winced as he felt the arrow head leave his back. Behind him, Eloise let out a sound of relief and watched as she set down the arrow onto the table side.
Before Eloise could start working on the wound, the door swung open.
“The arrow’s corrupted.” Came Leonith’s voice as he marched over. “Let me deal with the wound before you heal him.”
He turned to see Leonith, his blue eyes bleeding into red. The roots of his head were becoming a charcoal black, almost as if he were an angel descending from Heaven. There were markings, black thorns creeping up his collar bone.
“Leonith-”
“My gift is Mercy and Corruption, I can absorb the corruption without dying to its poison.”
“Fancy gift.” Keith snickered, wincing as he felt an uncomfortable twinge in his back. Eloise wasn’t able to numb it fully.
Feeling the warmth of Leonith’s hand as he placed it over the wound, he turned his head to watch in fascination as a black tar crawled up into Leonith’s hand, coating it black before stretching further up his arms and fading into his skin. It’s a little creepy if he’s honest.
“How’s the battle?” Keith spoke, to distract himself from the sight.
Leonith gave him a smile. “With your plan, it went by faster than expected. We finished and I came here as quickly as I could.”
Keith pricked up his ears, straining to hear sounds of the battle. He blinked as he realized the noise died down. It feels faster than he expected.
“They’re cleaning the battlefield and picking up the dead, your mother might have to work to cleanse the land. There’s only so much corruption I can take, after all.” He noted. “There, I drained it all.”
“Right on time then,” Eloise said, having come back with a healer.
The healer checked the wound and nodded before cleaning it and sealing it off, leaving only a scar to tell his tale.
“Don’t strain yourself in the next few days. If there’s a fever, come back. Don’t lift heavy objects for a while, and you’ll be fine,” The healer said, before quickly moving on to the next patient.
With that done, the adrenaline that kept him awake fizzled off and Keith struggled to contain his yawn. He still has enough magic reserves to teleport back home, and right now? He really wants a nap, thank you very much.
“Leonith, you can stay in my home for a while. I’m teleporting there and sleeping for a day.”
Fancy battle. Teleporting while battling sounds so practical. I’m starting to really like Leonith. His talent sounds so fancy and the special effects are so flashy. I’m blinded by his holiness. 😎