Chapter 4

As Damen Hitema charged he embraced the terrible power of Boetiadre’s Vengeful Wrath.

A thousand years ago the Red Sisters were an altruistic group of women led by a powerful druid named Boetiadre. Their selfless goal was to provide succor to the poor in a time where few others would. Even then-Avatar Jostel Ospios praised Boetiadre and her sisterhood as Ancestor-touched agents of mercy.

But the Red Sisters’ kindly facade concealed a core twisted by the pursuit of vengeance. As Boetiadre herself reputedly said: “Power always comes at a cost and time reveals all sins.”

Power flooded Damen’s body as the ancient bloodsword multiplied his life force exponentially. He used a portion of the torrent to accelerate to a supernatural sprint. The remainder he sent coursing into Angry Betty itself. Its scarlet radiance intensified while its hilt seemed to pulse with anticipation in his two-handed grip.

“I’m calling this one ‘Betty’s Big Boom’,” Damen said into the radio.

With a magic-enhanced burst of strength the druid took a bounding leap into the air. He soared clear over the leading ranks of voidspawn to land squarely in their midst. Surrounded on all sides by encroaching darkness, he plunged the incandescent bloodsword into the earth.

The world shattered all around him. Mighty stalagmites of subterranean rock crashed up through the surface with the deafening roar and force of a landslide. Shockwaves rumbled outwards in concentric rings of devastation, throwing clouds of dirt and debris into the night air. Those voidsspawn not crushed or impaled by the earthen spears went flying into the air only to slam back to the ground with stunning impacts.

Damen crouched in the centre of the devastation. “So what do you think?” he gasped.

Under his druidic armour, Damen’s body trembled and sweated as if he’d just run a marathon at a sprint in the full heat of summer. He kneeled at the centre of the devastation. All around he was surrounded by ruptured earth and spreading clouds of Blight.

“I think you need serious help with your names,” Drue Arden replied and Damen chuckled breathlessly.

With no more time to waste before the nearby demons recovered, Damen pulled Angry Betty from the ground. The armoured druid stood tall - if somewhat less smoothly than usual - and focused his qi, then lunged forward to stab Angry Betty directly into a stalagmite. The crystalline artefact pierced the solid rock as easily as loose dirt, then the stone violently blew apart with an explosive crack.

Shattered fragments ricocheted off Damen’s armour but the demons weren’t quite so fortunate. The shards knifed into the voidspawn, wounding or outright destroying even more. Damen leapt through the gap, intent on adding to the mayhem he’d already caused.

The veteran druid smashed into the demons as they charged fearlessly to their doom. With the speed of a striking serpent and the strength of an enraged bear he tore through the demons’ ranks. He wielded Angry Betty to deliver blows so powerful voidspawn were tossed like kindling before evaporating into billowing corruption.

François Siòn and Oathbinder Blythe incredulously watched Damen’s rampage from the makeshift stone fortification. As Lightbringers they’d each seen druids perform some amazing feats over the years. But even for Damen, the display of power was beyond the pale.

It was the stuff of legends.

An amused snort came from the man to Blythe’s side. He glanced over and saw Siòn’s smile by the light of the arcane flare.

“Magic,” Siòn sighed resignedly. “What’s a poor soldier to do?”

Oathbinder Blythe quirked a smile.

“You can give Qwòla dun Fiorel out there some cover fire,” he said wryly.

“He’s a few hundred years too young for us to start calling him an Elder,” Siòn laughed. But he nodded and reloaded his assault rifle all the same.

The squad’s commander reloaded his weapon as well. With the impending crisis averted, his mind was free to take stock of his team’s broader situation.

First he lifted his arm to look at the screen of his wristband communicator. He’d felt it vibrate a short while ago but hadn’t had time to look until now. When he did, the message he saw brought further relief.

‘dun Lopen, Stella: ETA 97 secs,’ the small digital screen read.

Blythe smiled at the technical specialist’s precision. He pressed a button to acknowledge the message’s receipt then shared the news with the squad.

“U.A.V. inbound - less than two minutes out,” he announced.

His next task was to check on those he’d left under Xi-Pen Lao’s care. His second in command had been quiet for some time.

From his crouch behind the makeshift stone battlement Blythe spun in place and looked to the far side. He saw the squad’s heavy gunner was alone, firing his machine gun in sporadic bursts through a gap in the magically-hewn wall. Although Blythe couldn’t see the troll’s face, by the set of his shoulders and relaxed droop of his long ears, he seemed almost bored.

Of Xi-Pen Lao and their necromancer ally there was no sign.

“Brother Lao, what’s your status?” Blythe asked.

“Master Lad’ja and I have engaged the enemy more closely,” Xi-Pen Lao’s unhurried response came back through the radio. “She is ... most formidable.”

As the Oathbinder peered past the far wall he saw a twisting funnel of swirling air, dust and debris. Voidspawn were sucked in and tossed high into the air as it tore through their ranks. The howl of high-speed winds could be heard gusting in the distance.

Bright flashes of an aethereal, orange light could also be seen. A sound accompanied each new flash, rising and falling with the intensity of the light. The sound was ... otherworldly. As if heard by the soul as much as the ears. It was the chorus of souls from beyond the Veil.

And they sounded angry.

Blythe and Siòn exchanged a look.

“Magic,” they said and shared identical grins.

“I wouldn’t worry about Horgal,” Damen said via the radio. “She can take care of herself.”

“It’s my job to worry,” Blythe responded dryly. “It keeps us all alive.”

Despite his words, the Oathbinder was satisfied that Xi-Pen had things well in hand. He turned a critical eye to the arcane flare hovering above. The magical light showed no sign of diminishing as of yet, but his own mental clock warned him it was approaching its expiration.

“Brother Rak’ja, prepare another arcane flare,” he instructed. “Launch when the U.A.V. arrives.”

The order was acknowledged but the commander’s mind had already turned to consider the best use of the ‘Spitfire’ once it arrived. He pressed a button on his wristband and opened a channel to communicate with the drone’s pilot back at the Lightbringer’s base.

Damen continued to devastate the voidspawn with near impunity. That is, until a light-devouring beam of energy streaked across the clearing from the distant trees. The first voidlance missed him but others soon followed. Wherever the demonic energy struck they disintegrated solid matter, blowing holes of varying depth through anything they touched.

A dark shaft of energy hit his leg armour. “Blighted voidlances,” Damen grunted. But it was out of annoyance rather than pain. Despite its rough outward appearance, his empowered druidic armour was made of far sterner stuff than mundane dirt or rock. The voidlance failed to penetrate deeply.

“It’s a shame precognition can’t anticipate the Taken’s voidlances, isn’t it?” Siòn observed with overbearing sympathy.

Another voidlance struck Damen’s armour and managed to drill through to the white bodysuit Damen wore underneath. The specialized armour - fabricated to resist demonic magic - absorbed the remainder of the cursed sorcery.

“If you’re bored, feel free to shoot back,” Damen growled. He savagely cut through two monstrous voidspawn with a single mighty swing and smiled with satisfaction.

“Working on it,” Oathbinder Blythe responded. “Sister Arden, where are our wights?”

“At least two are playing coy beyond the edge of the flare,” the invisible scout responded. “I’ve laid surprises on likely approach vectors.”

“The Taken will tire of their games eventually,” Siòn said.

“They always do,” Blythe agreed. “Most wights aren’t exactly patient -” The Oathbinder cut himself off. “Speak of the Void and It shall appear,” he murmured.

Blythe settled into position and peered through his assault rifle’s scope. Siòn - who’d experienced the same precognitive vision - followed his example and aimed at the seemingly tranquil trees.

Both Lightbringers opened fire as an actinic light suddenly flared at the forest’s edge, bright like the glare of a camera’s flash. A humanoid shape formed of seething darkness appeared from nothing. It raged in a net-like cage of writhing, blue-white lightning.

Insubstantial black tendrils floated about the demon, like billowing scarves of loose cloth. They seemed directionless in their movements, drifting about gently despite the demon’s wild thrashing. Yet it quickly became clear the tendrils weren’t entirely harmless. Some of the filaments curved back upon themselves, inwards to their trapped host. They brushed the eldritch cage and ... latched on. The blue-white lightning dimmed sharply wherever this occurred, as the magical prison visibly weakened.

“Keep on it!” Blythe ordered grimly.

The Oathbinder could see the arcane cage failing rapidly. They needed to kill the wight before the creature of nightmare could break free.

The voidwight shuddered under the Lightbringers’ combined volume of fire. Unable to avoid the repeated hail of bullets, it’s incredibly resistant form could only withstand so much punishment. After achingly long seconds it finally succumbed to the inevitable and dissipated into an expanding cloud of Blight.

Further down the edge of the clearing a distortion of hazy air burst from the cover of the trees. A fast-moving voidwight shimmered into view like a mirage, revealed by the potent light of the arcane flare.

“I’ve got this one!” Damen called as soon as the second voidwight appeared. A slash from Angry Betty dispatched one last voidspawn then he sprinted away to meet the voidwight head on.

The lesser demons which had surrounded Damen looked eager to follow but then - in a move too coordinated to be coincidence - the monsters turned as one and charged the Lightbringer’s earthen fortification once more.

Oathbinder Blythe pressed a tiny button on his assault rifle. A pencil-thin green light shot out of a small cylinder beneath the barrel and he directed it at the centre of incoming swarm.

“Spitfire-1, this is Oathbinder Blythe,” he said calmly. “Initiate strike. Danger close. Repeat, danger close.”

“Confirmed ‘danger close’,” an accented female voice responded over the radio. “You’re clear on infrared. Initiating strike.”

High in the night sky, a pair of distant lights flared in the darkness.

“fffssSSHHH-BOOM!”

Engines blazing, two drone-launched air-to-surface rockets slammed into the voidspawn and detonated in twin explosions. Smoke and burning debris fountained into the air.

“Ha! Now that’s a blighted ‘boom’!” Siòn chortled gleefully. The Lightbringer’s shining white armour reflected the flames as overlapping fireballs engulfed the voidspawn. “With luck, that was the last of them.”

“‘Good luck and good timing are brothers in arms’,” Blythe quoted with a certain satisfaction.

As per his previous orders the squad’s gunner launched another arcane flare and the Oathbinder smiled.

With the blast of the explosions providing a fiery backdrop, Damen’s fight with the voidwight raged across the clearing. This voidwight wielded a netherblade: a demonic sword forged of solidified darkness. Bloodsword and netherblade rang like crystal whenever they collided. But while the vibrations from Angry Betty were reminiscent of music and light, the weapon of Damen’s opponent produced an inharmonious wail that conjured images of despair and darkness.

Damen deflected his opponent’s weapon off to the side then returned with a lightning-fast riposte aimed at its torso. The greater demon dodged but couldn’t fully avoid Angry Betty’s sharpened tip and the bloodsword sliced through void-black armour, then penetrated into the demon’s form beneath.

The wight leapt nimbly backwards, its strength and speed allowing it to open a wide distance between them. But Damen didn’t chase after it. Instead, he settled his feet in a casual stance, then rested the flat of his blade on an armoured shoulder with one hand on the hilt. With the other he first pointed at the wight, then crooked a finger to beckon it towards him.

“Come then, you blighted son of a voidspawn,” he called mockingly. He gestured to the numerous clouds of corrupting Blight. “Your mother’s out here somewhere. Don’t you want to avenge her?”

Humanoid in appearance, legend held that voidwights were actually the corrupted souls of humans and trolls. Souls ‘taken’ by demons, cursed to serve the Void for eternity. Whether the legends held any truth or not, voidwights were known to display a variety of emotional responses.

Shadowy lips pulled back in a silent snarl at Damen’s taunt. The drifting black filaments surrounding the demon roiled and the space around it seemed to darken, as if light itself were somehow being sucked out of it. The voidwight lifted its netherblade and leveled it tip first at Damen. Moments later a jet-black beam of demonic energy lanced forth, aimed straight at Damen’s heart.