Chapter 29: An Arrival That Spells Doom.


    Alfie was an engineer, a dead man, a thrall, an executioner and now… Well now what was he?


    Gathering wood in the Dark Forest.


    Stradale would need a wall for when the invasion came, and a robust one at that. Much of his days since Selvas had left was focused on him travelling between Stradale and the Dark Forest to bring something sturdy enough for fortifications.


    He’d considered making cement but that would take time and he wasn’t exactly sure enough as to the rudimentary process of making it that he would be confident attempting it on Hell’s soil.


    That was the thing with Hell that bothered him, it wasn’t the Demons, the shackles, the torture- No, actually it was almost exclusively all those things.


    But something else also mildly annoyed him, and it was the rules of the world.


    It all felt well… for lack of a better term runny around the edges.


    In his earlier days as a thrall, when he wanted to do anything to earn him his freedom, he’d built really impressive bows for the guardsmen to be outfitted in, thinking that’d impress the Demon enough to break his shackles.


    It didn’t, but what more he’d noticed was that no matter what he did, the aim and power of his bow was just a bit wrong.


    It was better than anything else he’d seen, yes, but still, it was wrong, far too wrong for someone with a brain that worked like his to ignore and it largely remained so despite his numerous attempts at fixing it. The draws were inconsistent, physical properties of their materials seeming to defy all the rules he’d learned for predicting such things.


    Then to confound matters, he noticed that his aim got better the more he wanted it to.


    It would have been fascinating had his freedom not been on the line for it.


    The Chieftain didn’t end up adding the weapons to his arsenal, for fear that it might be used to overthrow him if given to the people.


    Ironic that.


    The event had birthed an idle curiosity in Alfie, and when he was not doing the monster’s bidding, he’d find some time to run little experiments using whatever he could gather from the surrounding region.


    It calmed him, brought back memories of home. He would close his eyes and imagine he was back at the university in Liverpool, teaching, fascinating his students and going on rants about the universe and its laws.


    He wondered what they’d say about this world, physics here were odd, but the chemical reactions were the most unpredictable, they behaved like they had a mind of their own, which to anyone who knew chemistry would be a horrifying realization.


    All in all, that meant he’d have to rely on simple things, like wood as fortifications.


    The walk back to Stradale was peaceful, and it allowed Alfie to appreciate the progress they’d made so far. The entire town was circled with great wooden pillars, brown with spots of yellow across their surfaces. Cain had been the one to demand he get specifically this kind of wood and he hadn’t questioned it, just as she hadn’t questioned him when he made alterations to the town’s bows and crossbows.


    He had asked why they didn’t have the town runesmith rune the walls and she had told him it was too large a surface area for the runesmith to work. As far as he understood runes, and he barely did, they were patterns which when carved by certain individuals applied effects to objects.


    Much of the runed weaponry in Stradale was made by the town runesmith, he crafted bows just that much more powerful and blades a little sharper. Aflie’s axe was the exception to that, not runed in Stradale but allegedly in the second circle.


    How a symbol could have an effect on the material properties of an object was something he couldn’t begin to guess as to why, but neither could he figure out why he had enough strength to lift a car here, and he barely questioned that.


    You take the few good things this place gives you I guess.


    Previously, those had been far too little, now however, he was free. He looked at the scar burned into his once-shackled wrist. A permanent reminder of what once was.


    What he’d never let come to be again.


    Poor Selvas and Luca, forced to grow up with a father in chains.


    Luca, conscripted to fight in Luxuria.


    Poor Emily, their mother, died giving birth.


    The Demon couldn’t care to spend the time and resources to save her once his slave girl had given him children infused with Might. As far as he was concerned, she was useless to him now.


    He’d had other children too, the Mightless ones were killed by the Chieftain as he didn’t want ‘waste’ eating up Stradale’s resources, the Mighty ones were sold off before they could so much as walk.


    The rage bubbled and twisted in his gut, he wished the bastard was alive so he could kill him himself, instead he’d settled for shitting and pissing on the animal’s grave.


    Alfie would never forget any of it, everything he’d done, everything he’d made him do.


    In the end however, perhaps he wished that he’d never lived the kind of life that brought him here in the first place.


    He stepped into Stradale to find the town’s people parting at the sight of him. He didn’t meet their eyes, but from the corner of his he could see theirs. They looked at him like he was some raging bull let loose upon them, all of them silent, as if waiting for some maddened frenzy and eager to look the least deserving of mauling.


    Alfie wasn’t a bull, he wasn’t foaming at the mouth with eyes of red and snorts of death. He was a man, a man who had once been their executioner, a man who’d killed a loved one of at least one of the men and women here, brothers, daughters, fathers, mothers and even children, gone by his hand.


    There was hate in the atmosphere here, like thin lines wisping in the air, cowering behind their fear and terror, but there all the same, lurking, always lurking.


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    It wasn’t fair.


    But Alfie couldn’t blame them.


    Perhaps the people would come around to accept him, or perhaps he’d never find a place in this town, either way he had more urgent things to see to.


    Alfie dropped the wood by the worker’s station and made his way to the Chieftain’s home. Well it was Gunther’s office now, at least a particular room within it was, most of it was being used to shelter and feed the homeless of Stradale.


    That was Gunther’s idea, the town had seemed to instantly defer to him at the death of the Chieftain, and no one seemed to complain. Not even him.


    Alfie found Gunther and Cain in the office, both looking over a document with glee in their eyes. Alfie smiled ever so slightly. Good news, he liked good news. “What is it?”


    “The Circle replied.” Gunther grinned.


    “The hornheads bought it.” Cain snorted, lips actually twisting to create the impression of a smile. Odd that, he hadn’t thought it possible.


    “Good, this is good.” Alfie sighed. They weren’t nearly done fortifying the town and while they’d hired a good amount of hunters and mercenaries to come help they weren’t where they needed to be right now in terms of manpower. More time would allow them to fix that.


    Alfie breathed in the peace that washed over him, he embraced in the tension that let loose. All they needed now was for the Death Rattle crew to arrive and they just might stand a chance at whatever the Circle threw at them.


    There was a commotion outside.


    Gunther was first to the door but before he could open it, a loud banging came from the other side.


    Cain grabbed the handle of her blade, Alfie grabbed his axe and Gunther grabbed the doorknob.


    He twisted it and a panting, sweating, panicked man stood at the other side. A guard of Stradale, not one of the old ones, those were all dead, but the new ones made out of hunters and citizens.


    “What is it?” Gunther urged.


    “Demon, there’s a Demon outside the walls!” He sputtered.


    A coldness wrapped around Alfie at those words, one that made his stomach turn and his head spin. A Demon.


    Gunther was paler than a Soul Taker, and of the three of them, it was Cain who gathered her composure first and stepped out into action.


    “I’ll see to them.” She announced, and made her way out.


    Alfie followed, as did many other of the townspeople. Along with them came fearful chattering, muttering and panicked whispers. Alfie hadn’t even seen more than one Demon in his life and now they were about to meet another.


    They reached the gates, a large wooden structure, and it was cranked open, creaking and groaning to reveal what lay beyond.


    Outside sat a creature atop a fresteed, scaly skin, red, serpentine eyes, horned and wearing sickly blue skin. Behind it was a small force, but a terribly powerful one regardless.


    Twenty one in all, all on mounts, they sat behind the Demon in white armor and visored helms. Grays. Alfie had heard stories of them, all human, but without a shred of loyalty to humanity. They were city guards, most of a City Lord’s killing was often never done by their own hands, but by the works of city guards who always seemed eager to do the dark deeds of such creatures.


    One however had red armor, a Crimson. An elite City guard and ranking above Grays in command, Might and and a penchant of violence.


    Many believed the nature of their plate was simply due to being soaked in the blood of their victims.


    “Quite a lovely day isn’t it?” The Demon said, a bright grin sprouted along his lips to reveal rows of sharp teeth. Like a shark but with the dangerous intellect of a man. And, come to think of it, more physical danger than an actual fucking shark, because Hell was just such a lovely place.


    It took a single step forwards and the crowd shrank several back.


    Eyes fell on Gunther to speak but the poor man looked just as lost as everyone else. It was a Demon, a Demon with a score of Grays behind him.


    “It is, my Lord.” A calm voice stepped through the panic. It was Cain’s of course, the woman seemed perfectly at ease in the presence of these creatures.


    It set its serpentine eyes on her and hummed. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Warden Mercury, an agent the Circle.” He said. “I’d like to speak with your Chieftain.”


    “He’s gone travelling.” She answered. It was a simple lie, but one that explained a lot. Why the people walked around freely, why there weren’t any thralls around, and so on. What made it even better was the fact that Cain didn’t even show a sliver of doubt in telling it.


    The people were still panicked, terrified of retribution for the murder of a Chieftain, but panicked people at the sight of a Demon wasn’t anything new, they’d look just as terrified at the sight of him snooping around even if the Chieftain were alive and well.


    Cain hadn’t made any misstep.


    Which was why what Mercury said next surprised Alfie deeply.


    “As I suspected, he’s dead.” The creature bowed his head as if in mock solemnity. “A rebel town not too far from where I thought I’d prevented the summoning of the Light Breather, what a funny coincidence.”


    The crowd shrank back further, the muttering behind him became more and more panicked.


    Alfie’s heart hung in his throat, he was suddenly aware of the sound of it beating, his breathing, the rushing of hot blood through his veins.


    Cain wasn’t immune to the effects of the revelation, he saw the lines of strain in her forehead and the way her hand twitched towards her sheathed blade. She’d lose against a Demon surely, yes. Yes?


    While her and Nero were fighting the Chieftain she was mounting a rebellion with other Mighty citizens. Those two things weren’t directly measurable against each other, so Alfie wasn’t exactly sure just how powerful this woman was.


    A good, enslaved, distrusting part of him believed she’d kept it that way on purpose.


    “Where is the Light Breather?” It asked.


    Cain gave the monster a glare. “I don’t know, I don’t believe in imp tales.”


    A tendril sprouted out from the Demon’s back and whipped outwards like lightning. Alfie could barely follow it, but when it had stopped moving, he saw it wrapped around a woman’s throat and lifting her up in the air.


    She panicked, screamed and clawed at it, all to no avail. He was choking her, killing her. A teenaged boy, perhaps her son ran at her, but someone grabbed and stopped him even as he screamed for his mother.


    “Where is your God of Hell?” The Demon asked again. She was sputtering now, eyes bulging, fingers clawing uselessly against supernatural flesh.


    “Tell him!” A man roared, voice cracked and hoarse. Her husband perhaps. “Tell him please!” They hadn’t told the public about what their plan was, Cain had insisted on it. Did she see this coming?


    Cain didn’t even glance at the dying woman, nor her husband, not when she was kicking, and not when she stopped either. She was dead. Her husband was on his knees, sobbing. Alfie didn’t even know her name, Selvas would have.


    Cain gestured to her neck. “You can do me next.” She told the Demon.


    Mercury chuckled, clearly finding something about the entire ordeal funny. Alfie couldn’t guess what for the life of him.


    “Let’s see.” He huffed like an athlete might while preparing for a run. “You’re willing to sacrifice someone to keep this information secret and you’re reinforcing your town in preparation for the Circle’s retribution.” He tapped at his knee. “Hmm, your Light Breather is somewhere important, doing something important and you’d rather I not get to him before he can do it. Now correct me if I’m wrong but- who am I kidding, you wouldn’t and I’m not- he’s in Dolore, attempting to recruit a fighting force. Crafty bastards, you.” He hummed at them, as if impressed by a dog’s tricks.


    Alfie grinded his teeth. So this was a Warden.


    He’d seen a powerful Demon, that was the Chieftain, all Might and terror, but he never had a mind on him that even for a second dared to threaten Alfie.


    This one though, this one was a whole other matter. This was intellect, raw and sharp, a reptile with the mind of a man. Just looking at it made his skin crawl.


    Cain wasn’t immune, he saw the subtle shift in the woman’s expression. Even she wasn’t expecting to be seen through like that. He hadn’t known when her unflappability had begun to comfort him, but the absence of it certainly had the opposite effect now.


    “You will hold this town until I get back, send a corvix to Dolore requesting men.” Mercury said, and it took Alfie a moment to realise he was regarding the City Guards behind him. “I have a Light Breather to kill.”


    The armored men began stepping forwards, and Alfie tightened his grip on his blade. It seemed this was going to end as a fight. He had very few delusions about coming out of it alive, but he’d ensure they’d make his heart stop beating before a single sabaton stepped on Stradale soil.


    The anticipation built up in him, coiling, coiling and waiting angrily for Cain to give the signal.


    And then, she spoke.


    “Of course.” She said.


    What?


    “Come in.” She added.


    Mercury smiled, pleased, and the armored men rode into the town, Crimson first.


    The visored killers were roaring orders soon enough and the people of the town, shaking with terror, were answering them.


    Just like that, Stradale was once more, under Demon rule.