A while later, as Elysia crawled up the steep slope behind Frey's carefree back, she had noticed the stealthy movements of silhouettes advancing at the same speed as them, slipping from tree to tree on either side of the path. He had tried to see them more clearly, but the shadows of the pines defied even eyesight as keen as his own, and all he could get was the impression that they were tentacled figures careful to stay out of his way. Visual field.
Her nerves were starting to get raw and she felt like charging under the branches of the trees in search of enemies. But what if she lost her way? What if there were more than one or two of them? The vague suspicion kept him inactive; he pushed his fears aside and continued his ascent.
The situation had become almost unbearable when he heard the sound of a horn far to his right, which was answered by a similar call from across the path. At that moment, he knew that the damned were surrounding them, that they were gathering for the feast, and he felt the temptation to stand up to them and resist, to end this once and for all... But an impulse made him continue forward, towards the area of snow.
What kept him going, she told herself, was the urge to keep trying, not to give up in the face of certain death, although she was honest enough with herself to know that only fear drove her. She didn't want to meet the mutants; she wanted to postpone this inevitable end as long as possible.
They were on a ledge near the snowfield, and glancing back down the trail she knew they were finished. Here, in this cold, barren, windswept place, her life would end with the day, and there would be no revenge against Wolf, no epic novel based on Frey's adventures.
She glanced at Frey who was standing near her carelessly picking up the sword, and watched the mutants approaching her. Elysia counted ten of them; She saw that the one who was in the lead was the well-known fat giant, and her heart sank at her feet. She had conceived the possibility that perhaps she could beg for mercy or offer them the possibility of a ransom, anything that might prolong her life.
However, the obese giant would undoubtedly want revenge for the carnage of the previous day.
"Wait..." What plant was the one at his feet? Small yellow flowers grew in shallow patches of land, nestled in the shelter of the ledge, and as the sun began to dip over the horizon she realized they were the ones she had come looking for. It seemed like a long shot, but she… She hurriedly plucked some flowers and gave them to Frey.
"Eat them," she ordered.
Frey looked at her as if she was truly crazy, and a scowling expression passed over her face.
"I don't want to eat flowers," she replied with a dazed air.
"You eat them!" Elysia roared at him, and Frey, like an embarrassed child, put them into his mouth and started chewing on them.
The cat girl watched her companion carefully. She was hoping to see signs of some change in him, a sudden, miraculous return of her former ferocity, stimulated by the supposedly magical qualities of the flowers; but nothing happened. "Well, it was a long shot anyway." She told herself.
The mutants were already close to her and she could see that they were indeed the survivors of the gang that had attacked them the previous time. Frey spit out a yellow ball after chewing it and stood behind Elysia.
The cat girl decided that it would be better to meet her death with a sword in her hand, since then she could at least take a mutant or two to hell. As she drew the weapon, the fading sunlight reflected off the blade and made the runes gleam, and she looked at them as if she were seeing them for the first time. The proximity of death had sharpened all her senses. Thanks to the universal translation ring that she had equipped, she gave him the meaning of the runes.
"Dragon Slayer" whispered what was written in the runes.
The mutants had stopped less than fifty paces away, and the massive leader was watching Elysia with myopic eyes. After a pause, he punched the moose-headed mutant in the ear, and advanced.
The catgirl wondered if she should charge at this disgusting being; if he killed him, he might undermine the morale of his accomplices. Facing a stone club with a sword was a battle she was sure to win, as long as others didn't intervene; With that thought, she regained a bit of her bravery. She still had some hope, and a wild smile broke out on her face, for her fear had left her and she was almost beginning to enjoy the situation.
The leader, a huge lump of swaying fat girdled by studded leather and many weapons, stopped ten paces from Elysia. Waves of fat cascaded from her chin like melted tallow from a candle, and her huge bald head was like a ball of meat with tiny holes punched through the eyes, nose, and mouth. To the catgirl's surprise, the creature seemed quite nervous.
"I'm not stupid, you know?" said the mutant at last, and his voice sounded like the tolling of a great bell that pealed within his enormous chest.
He was so close that Elysia could hear his wheezing, phlegm-laden breath.
"What?" the cat girl asked, puzzled. Was it a trick?
“That I can see what your plan is. You try to lure us into the range of your friend's sword, and then kill us."
"But..." The injustice of that accusation mortified Elysia. There she was, bravely awaiting her death, and her loathsome enemy claimed that things were the other way around.
“You must think we're fucking idiots. Well, the mutations didn't destroy our brains along with our bodies. Do you think we're that stupid? Your friend pretends to be afraid of us, but we have admitted it. He's the one who killed Hans, Peter, and Gretchen, and all the others. We know him and we know his sword, and you have no means of enticing us to come within range of him.”
"But..." Having steeled herself to put up a valiant final stand, Elysia felt disappointed and wanted to ask them to attack at once.
“I already told Gorm Elkhead that he thought it was you, but he didn't believe me. Well, I was right and he was wrong, and I didn't get the clan together just so you and your terrible friend could pick up some loot of mutant heads."
"But..." Slowly, the catgirl was beginning to understand what was happening. Her death sentence had been deferred, and she forced herself to keep her mouth shut before putting herself out there.
"Nope! You may think you are very smart, but you are not smart enough. This is a trap we are not going to fall into. We are too smart for that; I just wanted you to know."
Saying that, the mutant leader slowly backed away and cautiously walked away. Elysia watched the repulsive band melt into the darkness, and only then did she let out the breath she had held. For a moment, she was mesmerized, for the twilight on the nearby peaks was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen in her life. She even rejoiced at the icy cold and throbbing pain in her hand, for they were signs that she was alive.
"Thank you, Gods, thank you!" she cried out, unable to contain her glee.
"What are you yelling at?" asked Frey, elated.
Elysia resisted the sudden blinding urge to run the sword through him, and instead she patted Frey on the back of her. Angering for a moment, she realized that they would be immobilized on the mountain until morning, but even that thought of hers was bearable.
“Quick, we have to pick flowers” said the cat girl. "The sun hasn't set yet!"
♦ ♦ ♦
"Who?" Luthor Kryptan asked warily from inside as Elysia pounded on the door. "What do you want?"
It was late afternoon, and the catgirl was surprised by the elaborate precautions with which the alchemist received them.
“It's me, Elysia, the cat girl. I'm back. Opens!"
Was it his imagination, or did Kryptan's voice sound more nervous than usual? Elysia turned to look down the street. Through the cracks in the window shutters, light filtered outside, and from afar came the sound of horses' hooves moving at a walk and the metal-clad wheels of a carriage on the cobbles, which was heading to the taverns in the town square. 'A rich man who goes out to play.' She guessed.
"Wait! Wait! I go."
The catgirl stopped banging on the door and coughed. Very typical of her luck, that of having cooled down on the pestilent summit of that mountain. She wiped the sweat from the fever from her forehead, and she wrapped the crimson cloak tighter against the icy mist. She glared at Frey, who was standing stupidly at the top of the stairs leading to the basement dwelling; he held the flowers they had picked in one hand. As always, Frey did not show any signs of illness.
They unbolted and unchained the door, and finally it gave a little. Through the crack, light leaked out, along with the pungent smell of chemicals. Elysia pushed open the door, despite the alchemist's resistance, and she made her way inside, where she was surprised to find Greta standing at the other exit from the room. It was obvious that she had hidden in the adjoining outbuildings."Come in, Miss Elysia," the alchemist said in a prickly tone as he stepped aside to let Frey enter.“Wolf is looking for you” the catgirl commented to the Kitsune, who seemed too scared to speak. "Why?""Leave her alone, young lady," Kryptan interjected. “Don't you realize that she's terrified? She suffered quite a horrible shock at the hands of your friend Ladmer.”Quickly, Kryptan filled him in on what Greta had seen when she'd ventured into the merchant's son's quarters the night before, and though he was discreet as to why she'd come there, he men
After exposing Lilith's worshipers and incapacitating several of her satellites, we headed back down the road to Bergheim, leaving our former tormentors at the mercy of their not-so-benevolent fellow citizens. I don't know why we decided on that powerful city as the destination of our trip.During a stop at a roadside tavern, Frey and I decided that we should avoid the main route, which was perhaps a stupid decision considered from the present. Inevitably, and perhaps predictably, our drunken decision to take a detour through the woods led to disaster.In our desire to avoid any possible run-ins with law enforcement, we strayed far from the haunts of men, and ended up deep in the woods, in an area long believed to be the site of an Altar. Black. Little did we suspect, as we set off, that we would soon stumble upon stunning proof of the existence of that hideous sanctuary, or do battle with the most powerful of all the followers of the Dark we had encountered so far...<
Suddenly, it was all too much for Kat, and she began to cry tremendous choking sobs as her tears streamed down her soot-smeared face."What was that, Elysia?" asked the harsh voice from somewhere nearby.Kat choked back sobs as stealthy footsteps approached. Something blotted out the sunlight streaming into her hiding place, and she looked up at the face of a girl framed by long black hair and wearing a pair of cat ears, who stared back at her with eyes with vertical pupils which, Unlike the evil eyes of a beastman, they reflected nervousness, weariness, and for some reason, disappointment. Kat found herself staring at the sharp point of a long sword, the blade etched with faint marks."Come out slowly" said the unknown girl, whose soft and educated voice was then cold and without a trace of mercy.Kat crawled out into the daylight, realizing that she was near death at the time.She stood up and saw that the girl was much taller than her and was dr
The catgirl looked up at Frey, who was in front of her, sitting against the trunk of a fallen tree and staring into the depths of the fire; he watched the flickering flames as if he could divine some mysterious truth in them. His hands played idly with the flints he used to light the fire; lit from below, the severe angles of his face seemed as roughly carved as the granite wall of a cliff. The oscillations of the fire made the shadows chase each other across her cheeks. The light reflected off the pupil of her eyes, which shone with inhuman sparkles like a star. Beside him lay Kat, motionless and breathing regularly, apparently asleep on Frey's crimson cloak which was spread out on the ground.The sight of Frey taking care of Kat brought a strange question to Elysia's mind. What would Frey be like as a father? If they had children, how would he treat them?Frey felt Elysia watching him, and she looked up at him."What's troubling you, Elysia?"Catgirl av
"You have failed, my love," said Salthor, a Demon Lord in the service of Baal, the dark god of Wrath, despair, and vengeance, calmly. He looked at her through her usurped eyes, and Jasmine felt a shudder run through her to the core of her being.She backed away, for he was well aware of the punishments her patron could inflict on him when he was displeased. Instinctively, her fingers closed around the ruby hilt of her black warsword. She shook her head and her great mane of white-streaked black hair ruffled. She felt helpless. Even though she had a small army of beastmen at her service, she knew there was nothing they could do to help her. In the presence of her boss, no one could help her, no one. She was glad that the old beastman shaman, Grind, and his acolytes had withdrawn beyond the Altar when she finished the invocation, for she did not wish to have witnesses to her defeat."Everyone in the village is dead, as we both decided" she lied, knowing it was useless.
Jasmine made her way through the throng of her followers to take her place on the carved wooden throne, and once on it she rested the bare sword across her on her legs and faced the mightiest of the ranks. horde. The sword was to all present a reminder of how she ruled, a naked symbol of her power. She had the favor of the Baal, the dark god of Wrath, despair and revenge; and the expression of that favor was the power she wielded. The beastmen might not like her, but they would have to put up with her until one of them, according to her early code, could best her in single combat. And none would challenge her if she had any sense, for they all knew of Salthor's prophecy, made when she was promoted to the ranks of the Demonic Knight. They all knew what the demon had said: that no warrior would ever defeat her in combat. They had all witnessed that truth, though they were beastmen anyway, and defying their leader was an instinctive purpose for them.That night she almost wished
“Wake up, Elysia! Something is coming!”Elysia came out of her doze, her mind still cluttered with remnants of haunting dreams, shaking her head to clear it, her neck and back aching from lying on the cold forest floor. The chill had broken through the insulation provided by the leaves of the trees and drained the strength from her body. She got slowly to her feet, rubbed her sleepy eyes, and, as quietly as she could, drew her sword and looked around her.Frey stood close to her, like a solid statue frozen in the dim light of the dying fire. The red glow of the embers reflected on the blade of the sword, and it seemed that the dark hero held a blood-painted weapon in his hands.Elysia looked up at the sky, and saw that the moon had almost set. Fortunately, dawn was not far off."What is it about?" she asked, but her voice caught in her throat and came out as a raspy whisper. She didn't need to see Frey's alert posture to know that something wa
Kat moved under the bushes. She didn't want to, but the fascination of horror made her look outside again. She knew that the beasts were coming, she could feel it, for the air carried the same sensation that she had felt the night before. She looked at her two benefactors of hers and felt sorry for them, because they were going to die. Although her appearance was frightening, they had tried to help her and they did not deserve the death that the beasts would give them.She looked at Elysia and saw that her beautiful features were torn between hopeless fear and savage exultation. She understood how that could happen, because she had felt the same way when Karl had driven his car too fast down the path full of sprouting roots; she was kind of itchy, excited, scared and happy at the same time. However, Elysia did not seem very happy, and that was the difference.The dark hero did look like it, as he laughed slightly in a psychotic way. Kat was sure that she had noticed hi
“Take the sword!” Elysia yelled at him.But the stunned Frey was in no condition to heed the advice, and besides, he wanted to spill blood. He took an unsteady step toward Oleg, who was standing where he had left him, howling as he clutched his nose. Then, hearing Frey's staggering footsteps, she looked up and let out a tremendous bellow of anger and pain. He rushed toward his foe, crouching low and arms outstretched, intending to once again ensnare the dark hero in a deadly embrace. Frey remained where he was as the monster charged into a thunderous race towards him, as unstoppable as a runaway horse-drawn chariot.Elysia didn't want to look… The mutant was big enough to crush Frey, but she couldn't look away in horror.Oleg reached where Frey was. His massive arms began to close, but at the last second Frey ducked and dove between the monster's legs, then spun around and lashed out with the chain, which wrapped around the mutant's ankle. Fre
"Ulber?" I ask. Ulber Roger?"Do not call me that way!" The man's voice approached the scream. "Address me as 'Sir'.""Do you know this idiot?" Frei asked.Elysia nodded. Ulber Roger was a philosophy friend of Elysia's owner before the catgirl had murdered her mistress and escaped from her. He had been a quiet young man, very studious and could always be found in libraries according to his mistress. He had probably never exchanged more than a dozen words with her in the two years he had been friends with her mistress. He also remembered that Roger had vanished. There was a bit of a scandal… something to do with some missing library books, and he also remembered that some Inquisitors had shown interest."Stop!" Roger yelled at him in his thin, irritating voice. "You are my prisoners and you will do as I command for the remainder of your wretched lives."“Will we do as you bid us for the rest of our worthless lives?” Elysia looked
Elysia noticed that all the patrons were looking at the innkeeper strangely, as if he had spoken at the wrong time, or said something they had never expected him to say. But she dismissed that thought. Maybe they were just scared. Who wouldn't be with a servant of the Dark Powers housed in the castle that overlooked the town?“He is wicked like a dragon with a toothache. Isn't that right, Helmut?"The peasant the innkeeper had just spoken to froze in place like a rat staring at a snake."Isn't that right, Helmut?" the innkeeper repeated."It's not so bad," replied the farmer. "Considering how evil warlocks are.""Why don't you storm the castle?" Frey asked, and Elysia thought that if the dark hero couldn't guess the answer from the beaten-dog looks of those louts he was more stupid than he looked."Because the monster is there, sir" replied the farmer at the same time that he dragged his feet and looked at the floor again."The
The idea must occur to readers of these pages from time to time that my companion and I were under the influence of some curse.Without any effort on our part, and without any desire on my part, we managed to meet all manner of worshipers of the Dark Ones. I myself often suspected that we were really doomed to oppose his plans without ever understanding why; but such speculation never bothered the Dark Hero.Frey took all such events as they came, with a groan and a resigned shrug, and dismissed any such speculation as that of a useless and vain philosopher.However, I have thought long and hard on the matter, and I have the feeling that if there is a power in this world that opposes the servants of evil, perhaps it was the one who sometimes guided our steps and even protected us. What is certain is that we often stumbled upon some of the most outrageous and malevolent schemes perpetrated by the most unlikely of evildoers...Elysia, 'The Adventures of the
The desire to kill reverberated through Jasmine's brain, and the darkness rooted in her soul threatened to overtake her completely. Madness bubbled through her veins, and bloodlust flooded her as if she were a drug; her carnage gave him ecstatic pleasure. She wanted to find the black-armored warrior and kill him, for of all the enemies she had faced, he was the most powerful: a worthy offering indeed to the god of Wrath. At the last second, when she was about to brush aside his sword and kill him, her fate, in the form of her own idiotic followers of hers, had intervened to separate them. She wanted to find him again and finish the fight.And then she saw the girl. As if against her will, she gazed at the frightened little face that peeked out from where she was hiding. He knew what he had to do, because it was time to end this once and for all, to take the first step on the path that would end in eternal life, to take advantage of the opportunity offered to him of a glorious
Jasmine watched as the great cannon blasted the third breach in the city wall, then decided enough was enough. They had to save powder for the next fortification they came to, and the gaps were big enough for their soldiers to squeeze through. The defenders were tired and bewildered, so the time had come. She signaled to the bugler, and he sounded the advance blast. Marching to the beat of the human-skinned drums, the beastmen sprang into motion.Jasmine felt the thirst for blood rise within her, and with it, her desire to offer souls to the god of Wrath. She that night she would make him a great offering.♦ ♦ ♦Elysia watched as the tide of beastmen surged across the grounds, and archers began firing from the ramparts. They chose their targets calmly, methodically, and efficiently, and fired. Arrows pierced the darkness, piercing chests, throats, and bestial eyes. As the infernal drums beat, the relentless bloodthirsty beastmen continued to adva
Elysia watched the clouds overhead, racing across the sky like a mass that twisted and undulated in a strong wind. The color of the forest had changed from a light green to a darker, more ominous hue; she seemed as if the trees, like everything else, were waiting.She was standing on the parapet at the top of the wooden wall, and she was looking across the fields, straining to catch any sign of movement in the undergrowth. By her calculations, it was the end of the afternoon. Next to her was Frey, who was looking at his sword with disinterest. Every ten paces along the wall there was an archer, one of the woodcutters, men who could hit an ox's eye from two hundred paces, and measuring the distance between them and the line of trees, Elysia realized. realized that this was a slaughterhouse. Any attackers would get bogged down in the plowed fields and be easy targets for archers.She tried to let that thought reassure her, but she couldn't. Night in the woods was not lik
Elysia looked up at the ornate golden hammer that gleamed in the early morning light streaming through the open door of the temple. The runes etched into the Hammer's head reminded him of the ones adorning the blade of her own sword, but that didn't surprise him too much. Her sword had been the most prized possession of an Order of paladins and it seemed only fitting that the sword be engraved with holy signs.There were few people present; only some old women who were sitting cross-legged on the floor and praying. The babies with their mothers were outside, getting the cool while they could, and Elysia guessed the air might be unbreathable in there with the doors closed.The temple was a simple sanctuary with a simple altar, except for the presence of the Hammer, which was used to bless marriages and contracts. The Father, The Mother and The Son were not very popular deities there, since most of the woodcutters looked to Belial, Lord of the Forests and God of the Eart
Kat hurried toward the base of the watchtower because she felt the need to be alone. She had grown tired of sitting by the large central bonfire, and not even Frey's presence reassured her. She felt very alone in the midst of all those busy adults; in reality, there was no one with whom she could talk, and for the first time she realized that she no longer knew anyone in this world and that she had no place in it. Her flames reminded him too much of the Kleinsdorf fires. The ladder barely creaked under her bare feet as she climbed toward the trapdoor with the agility of a monkey.Elysia was sitting alone, and she was looking into the darkness. She had long since set the sun like a bloodstain on the horizon; the moon had risen through the sky, its silvery light bathing the surroundings. A gentle breeze cooled Kat's cheeks and made the forest whisper and murmur ominously. Elysia watched him mesmerized, lost in her own thoughts, and she hurried across the tower and sat down besi