Chapter 29

  Dalex let the tip of his sword dig into the ground and he rested his hand on the pommel. He braced his other hand on his hip and stared lazily up at Castreier.

  Castreier mocked him, “Did you think the adventure would last forever? That some jumped up country noble who asked his daddy to put him in the local dispatches could toy with the Wolf Brigade and get away with it? Who do you think you are, boy?”

  Dalex tuned Castreier out. He couldn’t believe he had let himself be caught unaware twice in the same day. That the mutts had taken him by surprise was natural. They were theoretically on the same playing field as him “magically.” But letting a petty tyrant like Castreier pin him down was embarrassing. Maybe if the man had been an actual dragon instead of the servant of one, Dalex would have felt better, but no, Dalex had just been sloppy.

  In his defense, the last several days had been a whirlwind. On top of being overwhelmed by a new environment, how many battles had he fought? How many fights had he started? How many people had he killed? Had any of that been avoidable? Not according to Dalex’s conscience. They had been bad people who had wanted to kill him or others, so it hadn’t weighed on his mind much, but it was still unsettling.

  [Androids] and dragons and spaceships and elves and lasers and genocidal psychopaths. Magics and “magics,” all of them simultaneously exciting and frightening in their own ways. How was a guy to make a functional plan in that environment?

  But Castreier and his troops weren’t nearly as threatening as a thousand mutts. Dalex just needed to take them somewhere with less risk of collateral damage.

  Someone speaking his name caught his attention.

  “–Dalex of the Expedition Seven. What does that even mean? Stupid boy playing in matters he doesn’t understand.”

  Dalex focused on Castreier again. “Hold on, have you been talking this entire time?”

  Castreier paused midway through a rant to lock eyes with him. “What did you say, boy?”

  Chuckling to himself, Dalex said, “I’ve been waiting here for someone to make a move, but you’ve just been chatting away for the last two minutes. You must have a lot of time to waste.” Dalex paused and looked around at the army arrayed to catch him. It had ballooned to nearly a hundred soldiers. “Is this everybody? Do you not have anyone chasing Hitasa?”

  “I have eyes on the she-elf,” Castreier snarled. “We can snatch her again at any time. Do not think I will be distracted and let you run away.”

  “It’s over, Dalex,” Arnaut said, standing as chief goon of Castreier’s mob. “It is time to come quietly. You will be treated fairly. No humans have been seriously injured. It’s just a few bruised egos and a few dead beastkin.”

  “Holy shit,” Dalex said. “Well, that makes this easy. Seventh, do you see all of these jokers around me?”

  “Yes,” her voice said. “I have a lock on all of them.”

  “Good. Let’s go somewhere without as many bystanders. {Mass teleportation}.”

  “Activating [matter transmission beam].”

  A hundred columns of yellow light descended from the night sky. They lit up Dalex, Castreier, Arnaut, and every beastkin soldier in attendance like spotlights identifying the actors on a stage. A murmur ran through the army. Castreier looked up, shielding his eyes from the beam.

  “What is this?”

  Arnaut did not move. He kept his entire attention on Dalex.

  “I’ll see you in a moment,” Dalex said, and then he and every one of his enemies dissolved from the head down in a flash.

  ***

  They reappeared on the plains above the canyon, maybe two miles from Batulan-bar. Dalex’s body filled in from the feet up. It took less than a second, and he was only dimly aware of what was happening until his head popped back into full form. He clutched his chest and breathed in and out. He wiggled his toes and fingers. Everything seemed to be working fine.

  All around him, Castreier’s goons stood stock still, trying to comprehend what had just happened. They surrounded Dalex in nearly the same configuration they had been in when Seventh plucked them up, though anyone that had been in an elevated position like on top of a roof was now on the ground. Dalex quickly spotted Castreier and Arnaut again. The former looked gob smacked. He had no idea what he was seeing. For Arnaut’s part, despite teleporting two miles to an entirely different locale, his gaze had not slipped from Dalex’s person.

  He knew exactly who was most dangerous here.

  Dalex hadn’t ever wanted to use {teleportation}, at least not on himself or any other living being. He didn’t know much about the true mechanisms behind beaming technology, but he had heard the paradox of the Ship of Theseus. Was he the same person after being disintegrated at one place and reintegrated in another? Had something important been left behind?

  Seventh had said it was perfectly safe, but Dalex had doubts.

  Still, desperate situations called for desperate maneuvers.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “What happened?” Castreier shouted, flailing around in the dark of the plains. “Where is this?”

  “Remain calm, Great Lord Castreier,” Arnaut said, his voice level and focused. “There is still work to be done.” The hero changed sword stances, shifting his weapon from one side of his body to the other. “Well now, Dalex. You seem to have us where you want us. What happens next?”

  Dalex let all of his weapons disappear and set his hands on his hips. “Let me think. I don’t imagine anyone will take me up on the offer, but all of you except Castreier are free to go.”

  “Very generous of you,” Arnaut said.

  “That goes for you, as well, Arnaut. There’s only one man here I have any beef with, but whoever sticks around is going to get the same treatment as him.”

  A few of the beastkin backed away, not yet breaking and running, but certainly nervous.

  “What are you mongrels doing?” Castreier growled. “Hold your positions.”

  Dalex raised his voice. “I think it’s time I made an adjustment to my class. As much as I like axes and swords, I probably need a bit of training before I’m really good with them. Me using such skill-intensive tools is, honestly, just disrespectful to the art.”

  “Indeed,” Arnaut said.

  “And I’m learning that guns, while practical, aren’t my style. I think I’ll lean into the mage archetype.” Dalex raised his hands and said, “{Sleeting swords}.”

  Several clouds of {astral mortar} poured out of him, coalescing into two-dozen simple gray swords floating in the air. Each had a razor sharp edge, a needle fine point, and no adornment whatsoever. They pointed independently toward Castreier, Arnaut, and the closest soldiers, waiting for a command to fly forward and strike.

  “Are you sure you want to do this?” Dalex asked, directing the question at Arnaut alone.

  Before any of his troops could consider an alternative path, Castreier cried out, “Enough of this boy’s petty games. Attack! Cut him down.”

  Arnault leapt forward. Some of the beastkin hesitated, but most followed, charging as a group. A thick circle of enemies collapsed on Dalex. Castreier pointed a finger at him and began chanting, “Jetflame means…”

  Dalex let his swords go. They plunged forward, seeking out individual targets to stab and slash. The beastkin didn’t stand a chance. Some of them used barriers and traditional hand-held shields strong enough to tank the blades, and they were only thrown back, and one was nimble enough to dodge. But fifteen were pierced straight through the heart. Dalex’s swords moved on to fresh targets.

  Arnaut ducked under the sword meant to skewer him and continued his charge, but the flying blade was not finished with him. It swung around behind the hero and dove straight for his back. A sixth sense told Arnaut he was still in danger and he slipped out of the way again. He seemed to realize that as long as the sword wanted him dead, he couldn’t confront Dalex directly. For the moment, he put all of his attention on eliminating the immediate threat.

  As for Castreier, Dalex did not give him a chance to finish defining his spell. While the {sleeting swords} brought death and chaos all around him, Dalex casually pointed a finger at the great lord and uttered, “{Prismatic strike}.”

  The instant after the spell left Dalex’s mouth, a shaft of light blasted Castreier from the upper atmosphere. He disappeared in a fiery explosion that consumed the beastkin guard protecting him.

  Good luck tanking that one.

  Arnaut must have seen it happen out of the corner of his eye, because he stumbled for the first time Dalex had seen. Not even Arnaut could have dodged an attack with the kind of speed, accuracy, and destructive power that Dalex had flung as Castreier. The rest of the beastkin saw Castreier vaporized. One cried out in despair. Others exchange looks of confusion. A few chose that moment to flee.

  Dalex drew back all of his swords save one so that they made two rings around his body, orbiting him like the teeth of a chainsaw. Forty beastkin lay on the ground, dead or dying. No one approached. Only Arnaut still fought on, just barely keeping at bay the sword Dalex had not called back.

  Dalex addressed Arnaut's allies. “I suspect you all have a good idea of how this is going to end. My offer still stands. If you run now, I’ll look the other way.”

  With a loud grunt, Arnaut dodged Dalex’s homing sword and used his own blade to chop down on the flying weapon, cutting it in half. That earned him a raised eyebrow from Dalex. These blades weren’t as sturdy as the fully formed {Skull Anchor} and {Finger Eater}, but they were still plenty sturdy; Arnaut was a true menace. The {astral mortar} forged sword dissolved back into a cloud and flew back to Dalex, where it again formed into a blade.

  Breathing heavily, Arnaut stared at it, almost motionless. Even if Dalex couldn’t see his face through the man’s helmet, he could feel Arnaut’s frustration.

  “You’re a monster, Dalex,” he said.

  “Look, you all came to me. It was your boss that threatened my friend. And may I remind you, Arnaut, you’re the one who said a few beastkin deaths weren’t a big deal. I guess now that a human is dead, you’re finally bothered.”

  Arnaut stood straight. He checked the last place Castreier had still been a corporeal human being. The smoke of his atomization was only just beginning to clear. The man himself was nowhere to be seen. A few more of the beastkin ran. No one tried to stop them, not even Arnaut.

  The hero waved to the remaining soldiers. “Be gone. Retreat to the rally point. I will stay here and hold him.”

  The beastkin did not need any more excuse than that. All of them ran. Arnaut readied himself for battle again.

  Dalex stared him down, then made one of his hands into a finger gun and pointed it at the hero. He dropped the thumb hammer with a plosive, “Pow.”

  Nothing happened. Arnaut didn’t even flinch.

  “You’re a scary fella, you know that?” Dalex said.

  “Who are you?” Arnaut shot back.

  “Dalex of the Expedition 7, but you already knew that. You’re free to go, too. I’d just recommend not bothering Hitasa or me again.”

  “I will stay until all of the members of the Wolf Brigade are safe.”

  That was when Dalex realized a single beastkin soldier remained. He knelt in the ashes of his deceased boss, hands at his side. Dalex thought he heard muffled sobbing coming from within the soldier’s helmet. Had the man really inspired that level of devotion?

  Dalex started walking toward the mourning beastkin.

  “Leave him be, villain,” Arnaut said.

  In response, Dalex said, “{Blunderbuss}.” In a flash, one of the whirling swords closest to Arnaut turned into the {blunderbuss} and fired of its own volition, knocking the hero a good ten feet away onto his back.

  This was how Dalex should have done it in the first place. He just needed to give the system direction. It could aim and shoot for him.

  Dalex stopped next to the final beastkin. The solider didn’t look up the enemy who had killed his boss.

  “A warning,” Seventh said in Dalex’s ear. “An [orbital torch] fired at your preset would almost certainly not have done enough damage to entirely disintegrate Castreier’s body. He is likely still alive, otherwise you would see remnants of a corpse.”

  “Noooooo shit,” Dalex said. “Are you serious?”

  “Gravely so.”

  Dalex groaned. “Did you see where he went?”

  “The [satellites] did not capture his escape. He may have used a magical method, but I am not certain.”

  Dalex gave the weeping beastkin a pat on the back. “You can stop crying, buddy. Your boss isn’t dead.”

  The soldier didn’t acknowledge him. Dalex looked around at the wounded. Some of them groaned in pain. Others were unconscious. He heard Arnaut stirring, getting back to his feet. Dalex cast {cure all} over the entire area. Several of his {astral mortar} swords dissolved back into clouds which became microscopic healers and entered the injured beastkin.

  Dalex left the healing to go on without him, casting {fly} and soaring back toward the city and Hitasa. No lightning appeared to knock him out of the sky.

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