All's Fair in Love and War - Chapt. 10

"The army has left the Varilandian Demon Realm at this location," pointed Vandire at the map, to then begin dragging it south-west, "and is taking a path similar to their last expedition. Although their training should be lacking compared to ours, their numbers have grown to match. They are better equipped with archers and cavalry, and worst of all, the lilim herself is leading it."

The news struck eerie discomfort among all present. Officers, sergeants, captains, and paladins, all gathered around the great table where a map of Nostrum and Variland lay. The paladins, even if they had seen the army's departure with their own eyes to come back and alert the rest, had fared no better than those hearing it for the first time. A difficulty to believe their situation, as if.

After all, the last time a lilim had been involved in anything...

Lescatie had fallen.

"The plan will be different than the last. We will sally out, we will follow them, but we will keep our distance. This new army is far greater than the last, and with that lilim present we can not afford to force an engagement, or be forced into one unless we hold an absolute firm advantage. Realistically, our opportunities will at best be to gradually whittle them down in small skirmishes and attempt to starve them of any foraging."

Then, Vandire pointed at Makillae.

"The same garrison from last time will stay, but this time the paladins will stay as well in case of far greater succubi infiltration or other unforeseen actions. Now, any questions?"

Though he looked up to those within the room, he met only determined expressions devoid of doubt. Though he could see their fear, though he could see their worries, none said a word.

"We leave immediately."

---

It had been a while. He remembered it well, crossing out the gates of Makillae once more, but this time, it had felt different. They weren't after raiding parties anymore.

And different, it already was. Already he had been sent to pick berries from an old, sparse forest with the rest of his group. Light cavalry, so it was no wonder that it was always foraging or scouting. Though part of him thought those clad in armor, the heavy cavalry, had it easier by always accompanying the main army, perhaps the boredom of doing so would not outweigh it.

"Maverick!" Exclaimed a cavalryman with a galloping behind it. Turning his head, Maverick did not have time to even ask. "Drop everything, we have company."

The tone gave away that it was not the friendly kind. As quickly as he could he took the basket and rushed to his horse, hanging it by its side and jumping on. The two then galloped away, aiming to join with the others.

Perhaps it was not a matter of 'if', to meet opposition, but rather of 'when'. They were awfully close to the Varilandian army's path, stealing what they'd eventually attempt to forage.

In short notice, they arrived to six others on their horses. The whole group, staring in one singular direction. Maverick followed their gaze, to then spot in the far distance another few individuals on their horses. His group were the only ones that had been sent here, making it clear what side those on the far side followed.

Girls. Monster girls in armor, staring back the same way. Their horses, strange creatures reminiscent of the normal equines, yet with the slight changes in form and musculature giving away the taint of the demon realms. That invisible aura felt from just seeing them, their unnatural state, it all sent a chill down Maverick's spine. However, they only numbered three. Perhaps knowing the difference in number, they remained where they were, at least until they calmly walked away.

"What do we do?" Asked a horseman to the sergeant. "Do we stay or...?"

"We did enough here. Let's go back."

And so, the eight departed.

---

Atop a small hill, crossbowmen stood in line. Infantry stood behind them, a mixture of infantry and spearmen. Cavalry both heavy and light stood at the flanks, and at the far fear, a reserve of infantry.

And in the middle of all, Vandire and his officers were present, looking far ahead as a force almost mirroring their slowly advanced, their steps echoing in cacophony.

Far beyond the range of Nostrian crossbows or elven bows, the Varilandians stopped. Where Vandire stood in relation to his army, there he saw in relation to theirs. The description, the colors, the wings and tail, the uniform and horns. The lilim.

For better or worse, they did not advance. The though lingered in Vandire's mind, the question as to what the Varilandians thought of themselves with a lilim among them. For them to be confident and reckless was out of the question, if only a small hill stopped them. Were they simply sensible, conservative, or was their last defeat enough to drive fear and caution into them? In any case, he could no longer count on their inexperience to push them to make mistakes he could exploit.

Noises. The Varilandian infantry had begun bashing their shields with their spears. With the Nostrians doing nothing, it turned into all that reigned in the surroundings.

Taunts. They wanted the Nostrians to advance. To abandon their hill, and fight on level ground. To attack head-first, advancing into a hail of elven arrows. Granted the strength of monsters and the bows of the elves, there was no question on who out-ranged who.

But, that only left him to ponder. Would they not be able to just sit outside of crossbow range and shoot them with impunity, forcing them to either retreat or advance?

Before he could find an answer, the bashing stopped. Little by little the lines reformed, withdrawing to march away, though too orderly for him to attempt an attack upon disarray.

Vandire didn't get it. Most likely, the lilim wanted favorable terrain as well, even if it was just a small hill upon the plains. However, when he looked at the line, the crossbowmen, the spearmen and swordsmen, all around him, he finally understood.

The taunting drove fear into them. The Varilandian withdrawal at their leisure as the Nostrian army remained by the hill cemented it. It almost served as a display of what the Varilandians had become from that one disastrous raid.

It sought to target not their numbers or their strength, but their morale.

He couldn't let it turn into an omen of disaster. He had to follow them regardless. Judging by their path, they still aimed down the same direction their first raid had.

---

Indrick and a second paladin rallied by the front of a house, accompanied by a sizable number of spear and swordsmen. Ten in total, readying themselves for a forceful entry.

Their rosarii had detected signs of monster nearby, its gem glinting a bright color rather than its dull grey of inactivity. A particular detail had caught the attention of the ten present time ago, worrisome as it was:

Rather than glint, it siphoned, as if it were constantly casting a shadow. A black light. For Indrick, it led uneasy memories to surface.

He tucked it into his shirt as did the other paladin with his own, and with a few gestures of his hand, he signalled the plan to commence. Quickly a spearman stepped to the door, and with a firm kick he broke it open. Immediately Indrick and the second rushed inside, followed by the others, but saw nobody within. It was all clean, pristine, or at least as much as a normal house would be, discarding any ideas of long abandonment or violent struggle, but the glint still remained.

But splitting up to find a monster would only invite disaster. They needed to stick together. Pulling his rosarius out, Indrick moved it about. As distance to their target grew and lessened, so did the glint, allowing him a working if inelegant tracking method. With longsword in hand and rosarius in the other, he walked past the initial room of the house with the others following, coming to a hallway and ending in another door.

Behind it, however, he could hear something. Faint murmurs, yet of a single voice. Something was in there, something they most likely didn't want anywhere near the lands of Nostrum. Tucking his rosarius back in, he nodded, prompting the others to gather. He stood by one side of the doorway, Sigismund with the other, the rest by the hallway, and with a deep breath, opened the door.

The first thing he saw was a woman sitting on a bed, back towards him. That had to be the source, but she still looked remarkably human. Perhaps the monster was here and infected her before leaving? But, what would cause her to be in such state? Of all he heard of demonic corruption, hardly ever did he hear of a reaction like this.

...Nyarlathotep.

In slow steps, he approached her with the second following close.

"I don't want to be alone." She whispered to herself, on and on. "I don't want to be alone."

"...Hey." Called Indrick, but received no response.

"I don't want to be alone."

No use in words. He took a few steps further and extended his hand, slowly reaching for her shoulder.

"Can you hear them?" She asked, making him stop. "They're calling... They're leaving..."

He knew not what to answer with. She slowly turned her head towards him, and that that moment, Indrick saw the darkness under her eyes. Unnatural. Eerie. Like necrosis of the skin, but somehow healthy with only the coloration to differentiate it from normal skin. Paint, however, it was not. Something was wrong.

"They don't want us to stay. They want us to leave with them."

"Who is?" Asked Indrick.

"You don't know?" She asked, turning fully to move towards him, prompting a step back from him. "You don't know... You'll see with your own eyes soon. Let me open them!"

She jumped, unveiling a shard of glass she had hidden from all. In too fast a moment, Indrick had just managed to block her attempt at stabbing him with the flat of his longsword against her arms. However, having thrown herself over him, he fell down with her, shard held down with both arms just centimeters from his eye.

Then, she turned to smoke, disappearing entirely as the cloud dissipated. Behind it, the other paladins stood with his longsword still kept in place, end where the woman had just been, and with an expression of stupefaction.

"What..." He asked, voice raspy and coarse like sandpaper.

The rest of the men soon followed in, checking all corners for any sign of the disappeared woman. In the wardrobe, under the bed, in any possible hiding place, but hardly anyone found a thing.

"You alright, then?" Asked the paladin, extending Indrick a hand.

Sigismund. Although muscular and great in size, it seemed only in the horizontal where his blessings lied. He stood half a head shorter than Indrick, a man of simple average height, as well as the curse of a bald head. He was hardly even in his thirties.

"...Yeah." Answered Indrick, taking the hand to be helped to his feet. He took his rosarius and paid a glance, just to find the siphoning darkness disappearing. In short notice, it returned to its old dull grey.

---

"Geoffrey?"

The door creaked open. Indrick and Sigismund walked in, and true to Indrick's call, the paladin they sought was there sitting at a table with his own tools.

A laboratory, it seemed. Too spacious for just one man, and the late hours betrayed that only he had shown up of his own accord. His chestnut hair was long enough to almost cover his ears, and his beard felt more unkempt each time they saw him. In front of him were glass bottles and vials, with a spherical one sitting atop a minuscule flame. Looking up to the two who entered, Geoffrey turned off the flame.

"Need something?" He asked.

Indrick took his rosarius out, holding it as he walked to then leave it in front of Geoffrey. Sigismund did the same, for two rosarii to sit by the third paladin.

"Something's weird about them." Said Indrick. "It was glowing black, time ago."

"Glowing... black?" He asked, taking one and looking at it intently. "How does something even glow black?"

"It sucked the light around it." Said Sigismund. "Whatever it was, it wasn't normal."

Still looking at the rosarius, Geoffrey stood up and walked over to a cabinet. There, he opened and searched, taking out a small vial along with a little bottle. He closed the cabinet and returned, leaving everything on the table to then put the vial close to the bottle.

The vial began to shine its warm orange light. Moving it away caused the shine to fade. Geoffrey then took Indrick's rosarius and moved it close to the bottle, causing it to shine its orange color as well.

"I thought the rosarii might've gotten corrupted, but... it's still like new." He pondered. He did the same with Sigismund's, moving it closer just to see the same glint. "They work here, that's all I can check for."

"You can't do anything else? Can't the other alchemists check on this?" Asked Sigismund.

"Hey, the guy we got this from barely made it out before his country got turned into a demon realm, and nobody's gonna try going in to check if the monsters didn't get rid whatever was in his lab." He stood up, facing the two. "He even lost the recipe on how to make more, and we're nowhere near close to reinventing this wheel. The rosarii work as they should. Maybe they are picking up something new?"

The idea left Indrick and Sigismund silent.

"I'll let the others know," he added, "but until we have something concrete, you might need to find more of what makes the rosarius do what you said."

---

Index
https://pastebin.com/nKLhpxjU

< Chapter 9                                                                                                         Chapter 11 >
https://pastebin.com/Nsjpj6dx																	   https://pastebin.com/Q6P1hbdu