“So… Why are you guys here at the port, anyway?” Eri asked curiously.

  The party was making their preparations: repairing armour, sharpening weapons, and keeping stock of their remaining inventory. The way they moved with a professional ease told Eri a lot about them.

  Despite only being Chosens for three years, they had plenty of field experience. The Bronze Core and their use of Second Form Artes already indicated that, but this reinforced the notion.

  I wonder how often they ventured beyond Kaldreach in demon-hunting expeditions…

  “Oh, so it’s alright for you to ask questions, but not the other way around?” Alvine coldly asked.

  Eri flinched, tucking himself deeper in his sitting corner with thick blankets around him. His body was still recovering from the ordeal. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to…”

  “Oh, lay off the kid, Alvine,” Julie huffed. She skipped over and patted Eri gently on the head. “Ignore her. She’s just grouchy.”

  Alvine huffed and returned to the task of sharpening her spears. Her whetstone now bit a little harder in each stroke.

  “We were here to check on the quality of Port Violet’s Caustic Oil,” Julie explained. She sat beside Eri and pulled some of his blanket over her, yawning. “House Dervaine wants to know if the Port is worth retaking.”

  Caustic Oil had considerable value in Kaldreach as fuel or raw material. Port Violet was also likely the only source of Caustic Oil throughout the North. The reservoir had generated endless wealth for House Elathion while it had been under their control.

  But now…

  “Joarris’s House thinks they can retake the infested port?” Eri asked sceptically.

  “Not the whole port; just one of the perimeter pumping stations, where it’s safer,” Julie hummed, snuggling tiredly up to Eri, who blushed. “Kaldreach has few other sources of Caustic Oil, so even just a stable trickle alone can bring great profit. We were here to scout the area and see if the outer pumps are still operational. After that, maybe the House could send some of their engineers and get this station up and running.”

  “With this many high-ranking demons?” Bori snorted nearby as he sewed up the claw marks on his leather pants. “No way in hell is House Dervaine going to be able to set so much as a toehold in this nest, which less retake one of the pumping stations. All it takes is one Gold-Core to come stumbling about, and the whole operation is toast.”

  “It’s strange, though,” Alvine added reluctantly. “Our reports say the outer rim of the port should only hold a few Silver-Core Demons, at most. There’s no way we had ventured deep enough to alert the greater monsters nesting within the lake. Joarris would have never given this mission the green light if he knew Gold-Cores were about, no matter what his father demanded…”

  “To be fair, I don’t think the Gold-Cores usually stray so far from the waters,” Eri said. “We are still in the ‘safe-ish’ outer edges of the port. It might have been because of my hunts reducing the number of demons in the area that the King Hydras came to investigate.”

  “Wait, you’re the one responsible for the lack of demons around earlier?” Julie asked curiously. “That Hydra was the first monster we encountered since we entered the district.”

  Eri coughed, looking away. “I might have gotten carried away.”

  “Wait a minute, that means if you hadn’t cleared out the outer perimeter of demons, we won’t be in this mess!” Alvine accused. “This is your fault!”

  “Indirectly, maybe,” Raharim sighed. “C’mon, Alvine. He couldn’t have known us five idiots would stumble into this mess. Even then, we should have cleared off once we sensed something was off and tried another day. Greed got the better of us.”

  “Why do you keep trying to protect that demonspawn?” Alvine demanded.

  “Alleged demonspawn,” Raharim corrected. He raised an eyebrow when the rest paused in their task and turned to him. “What? We don’t know what he is. My bet is still on the reincarnated Saint theory.”

  “That’s stupid. Saints don’t use Demon Artes,” Julie complained.

  “How would you know? Remember Saint Eryndor, that Moonknight who got reincarnated about two centuries ago? He had first died during the First Crusade, almost four thousand years ago!” Raharim excitedly said. “The magic he used was unlike anything anyone had ever seen. Who knows what stuff they used all the way back then, when the Elderkin and Old Magic were still around?”

  Saints were the greatest of humanity's champions — Chosens whose Cores had reached the legendary Mythic Tiers. It was said that they could never really die, for the Goddess resurrects them in times of great need to fulfil their eternal oath to protect the living.

  That was the Church’s official stance, anyway. Most people went their whole lives without seeing a single Saint, and there were never more than a handful in each generation across the entire Empire at any time. Some doubt that their resurrecting capabilities were even real, convinced it was just yet more propaganda made by the Church to boost morale.

  However, Eri knew for a fact that they were real; he had encountered the phenomena before when he had reigned as the Fourth Demon King. Only the strongest heroes ever made their way into his castle, and among those vaunted Saints, a few returned to challenge him over the long millennium, even though he had definitely killed them before.

  It usually took a few centuries for them to return, and their minds weren’t always quite all there when they did, but at least Eri could confidently say the reincarnating saints were real.

  “Raharim, be serious. You really think the kid is a Saint reborn? He’s a mutant!” Bori gestured to Eri’s white hair and purple eyes. “He even has a horn!”

  Eri shuffled self-consciously. Julie ruffled his hair.

  “Don’t mind Bori. He’s being stupid,” she laughed reassuringly. “I think your little horn is cute.”

  Before the rest could bicker even more, Joarris returned to the main hall, exiting from the inner pump sections with dust and oil on his shoulders.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  “Here, I fill these up like you asked,” Joarris said as he laid down two sloshing canisters at Eri’s side.

  “Good. Now we can make that bonfire on the roof,” Eri nodded. “Hopefully, Elen could see it from here.”

  Their plan was as simple as it was desperate: Light a huge fire on the roof of the pumping station and pray that reinforcement would come to their aid.

  The heavy purple mist in the air and their general depth into the port meant their location would be veiled entirely from Castle Elathion. However, given that some time had passed since Eri was to return to the stronghold, the boy was hoping Lord Draevan would have sent a search party into the port for him.

  At the very least, Elen would undoubtedly be looking for him by now, angrily cutting through a swathe of demons as she delved through the flooded streets in search of her wayward ward.

  Eri was left in the awkward position of both hoping for their reunion and dreading it simultaneously.

  She’s going to butcher me the moment we reunite…

  Regardless, the bonfire on their roof should help attract any local aid to the pumping station. Of course, the same went for the demons, but so long as the giant blood effigy kept the Gold-Cores away, Joarris’s party should be able to fend the rest off.

  It was a lot of ‘should’ and ‘maybes’, but it was the only plan they could come up with.

  “You took your time filling up those canisters,” Julie complained.

  “Pumps were overpressured to hell. Difficult to work,” Joarris grunted. “They hadn’t received proper maintenance in a century, and some of them are still running despite the blockades and filled tanks.”

  “Pipes are ripe to burst when I checked earlier,” Bori added. “Another decade or two, and no amount of rugged dwarven machinery is going to hold it back. Streets will be flooded with Caustic Oil. Quality is still good though, surprisingly.”

  “It will burn well,” Eri agreed as he inspected the contents of the canister. “Here, I have a fireproof tarp so that the roof doesn’t collapse on us. We can set up the bonfire when we are ready.”

  “God, does that little pouch of yours carry everything?” Bori asked, exasperated. “What else do you have?”

  Eri pondered. “Dagger, twine, repair hammers, rope, various potions, throwing knives, a boat, explosive throwing knives, light cluster grenades, smoke bombs, firecrackers, entropic mines, satchel charges, incendiary missile racks, a Hellbomb—”

  “Ariane’s tits, why do you pack so many bombs?!”

  “I haven’t met a problem that couldn’t be solved with enough explosives yet,” Eri admitted.

  “A good attitude to have, considering their effectiveness,” Joarris chuckled. “Perhaps we could use those tools of yours to improve our defensive position.”

  Eri hadn’t considered that. It seemed obvious in hindsight, but he hadn’t used his Demolition Skill to protect a place before.

  It felt contradictory. Bombs should be used to blow things up.

  … I think Elen’s right. There’s something silly about my brain.

  “I will need someone to help me set up the traps and mines. My hands are unsteady, so one wrong move could be fatal,” Eri said. “Does anyone—”

  “Not it,” Bori quickly said.

  “No.” Alvine turned away.

  “Definitely not me.” Raharim shook his head. At Eri’s look, the man chuckled. “No offence, little Saint, but I have terrible fingers, and I’ve seen what those mighty bombs of yours can do. I’ll get us both killed.”

  “Sheesh, you lot are cowards,” Julie complained. “I’ll do it, then. I bet it would be fun.”

  “It’s probably for the best. You have the best dexterity among us,” Joarris nodded. “Alvine, guard them if they have to go outside. The rest of us will set up the bonfire.”

  Alvine grimaced, but nodded.

  They got to work. With Julie’s enthusiastic help, Eri set up overwatching missile batteries and artillery positions in the pumping station. They blew open walls on the second level to create sniper nests. Sections of the floors across the three-story building were demolished to allow easy access for the Chosens to jump between levels. Mines and satchel charges were placed across multiple defensive lines outside the building, and improvised mortars were dug at the foot of the building.

  “It’s called a fougasse,” Eri explained. “A barrel of explosive powder in a hole, and a load of scrap metal over it. We have it facing outward from the building, and if a swarm and large enough foe lumbers by, we set it off and shred them to pieces with improvised shot.”

  “You’re scary sometimes, you know that?” Julie commented.

  “You should see the dwarves, they’re scarier,” Eri murmured as he inspected the trap. “They create weapons that make these look like child’s play.”

  He still remembered the damnable siege weapons that pounded his castle back in the day. Those grudge-bearing ale-worshippers were terrifying when gathered in force, with their ingenious inventions and rugged armies.

  “Not many of them left these days, though,” Julie sighed. “Only a small colony in each stronghold capital to maintain the walls and guns, and their population shrinks each year. Who knows how much longer they will last with the Third Demon King’s curse in their blood?”

  Eri grimaced. “Another few centuries, and the last of the Elderkin will probably be gone.”

  The Elves were already extinct, as were the Giants and countless other ancient species. Despite the grand kingdoms and empires they once controlled, all had fallen to the Third Demon King’s malignant plague on the mighty Elderkin.

  Soon, only the Newborn races will inherit Thalmyra: the Beastmen, the Orcs, and countless other lesser sapient species… and of course, the Humans.

  Assuming that the Demons did not conquer the world first.

  Eri shook his head. Those thoughts were best left for another time.

  The pair returned to the interior of the pumping stations once they were done, with Eri breathing and limping heavily while supported by Julie.

  There was no way he was going to recover in time to fight. All he could do was hope his preparation would make up for his absence later.

  The others were already there. An enormous bonfire was lit on the roof, searing against the darkness of the night.

  “Sheesh! Building won’t stop shaking earlier. I thought you were about to bring the whole damn thing down!” Bori complained. “Did you really have to blow so many holes in the walls? This rundown station has enough entry points to defend already.”

  “If the swarm gets close enough to invade the station, we will be overrun anyway,” Eri explained. “One or two won’t matter; I’ve added a few trip mines outside. But the key to our survival is to keep them at bay.”

  “Agreed,” Joarris said. “Bori and I will be outside. Raharim, stay within the building on the first floor and use your support spells to aid us. Julie and Alvine, provide overwatch from the roof and thin their numbers, but retreat to the second floor for cover if need be.”

  “What about me?” Eri asked.

  “The second floor will be safest for you. Most of your devices are there anyway. You have a sensing skill as well, if I recall. Warn us if you sense something we can’t.”

  Eri nodded. The rest did a final check on their equipment.

  “Mana Core’s topped up from the potions, but still strained from earlier,” Alvine noted with displeasure. “We wouldn’t be fighting at full strength.”

  “Take breaks in between when possible,” Joarris instructed. “Bori and I will swap out from the frontlines periodically to conserve our stamina; you and Julie should do the same with your fire support.”

  The party got to their stations. A tense energy was in the air. Eri sat against a pillar on the second floor and looked out from an open wall he had blown apart earlier.

  With any luck, Elen would find them before the demons did. If not…

  Well, he did have a Hellbomb and a station full of highly flammable oil sitting beneath.

  Worst comes to pass, I’ll give everyone a hero’s death and kill as many demons as I can.

  The irony of his statement did not escape the ex-demon king.

  “Here they come!” Joarris shouted as the first wave of screeching came from the purple mist.

  Eri sighed, hands on a detonator.

  It was going to be a long night.