NOVPUBThe Kidry cleanup had been a slog – rounding up Kidry’s survivors while Elina patched Cole up. The potions had left a lingering soreness, a hot ache that flared every time she pressed down; like his body hadn’t finished complaining about the rush job.
When they finally collected all the survivors, it turned out that Malcord’s carriages had hit capacity, so he’d shuffled the extras into the shuttle with Cole’s team. Elina spent the drive back to Nolaren checking them over, asking quiet questions – names, fragments of what they’d seen; anything to get answers on the spell they’d managed to avoid becoming victims of.
By the time they’d finally pulled into base, Cole was ready to throw in the towel. But Lorresh hadn’t given them a second to shake it off – just marched them straight into the command center for a debrief that couldn’t wait. Elina, meanwhile, had stayed behind to help with the survivors, planning to crash their debriefing halfway through.
With Deputy Director Syndra Thallen patched in via the Scrying Pane, they’d started from scratch, starting with Kidry’s possession chaos. They covered everything that had happened since then – from the forest demon hunt to Ethan and Miles taking down the Nevskors – when Warren had barged in, mid-story, still patched up but moving like it didn’t faze him. Elina had followed after him, face tight, probably because Warren wouldn’t sit still long enough to heal right. They’d shifted to the Vampire Lord takedown, and that’s when Mack had jumped in, hands waving as he broke down his stunt.
“... pinned the bastard first, locking him down tight. That gave me time to compress the barriers, jack up the internal pressure, give it full combustion, and push the fireball past ignition into plasma.” Mack paused, hands stalled mid-swing. He must’ve caught on that his account had flown right over their heads. “Ahem. Anyway, the gist of it is that I upgraded the fireball spell into a plasmaball. Hit the Vampire Lord – target neutralized. Or rather, vaporized. Nothin’ left of it.”
Cole smirked from his spot against the wall, arms crossed tight to keep his sore ribs from bitching too loud. But even if they did, it’d no doubt be drowned out by Mack’s braggadocio. He probably would’ve framed that crater just to hang it right on their front staircase back home, the way he basked in the Celdornians’ astonished looks.
Hell, he’d even gotten Warren, who’d essentially forced his way into the debriefing halfway through. The man gave out a hearty laugh, his injuries either already healed by now or just straight up ignored. “A fine strike. That spell bears use indeed. We’d do well to set it in OTAC’s handbook – strengthen our men with it.”
Warren’s eyes flicked to the Scrying Pane, where Director Cullen’s right-hand woman had sat, lurking quiet since the start of the debriefing.
Deputy Director Syndra Thallen looked nothing like Cole had expected. For one, she was an elf – evident by the pointed ears poking through from her high blonde ponytail. The tight pull of the hair accentuated her already sharp facial features, giving her that same intensity he’d seen in some of the tougher intelligence officers back home. Second, she couldn’t have been more than twenty-five by appearances, though he knew better than to trust that. The elves he'd met so far had all looked like they were in college, like Elina.
She topped it all off with a strikingly elegant outfit – some sort of Victorian suit, as far as Cole could tell.
“Lady Syndra, would you not concur?” Warren asked.
“Indeed, Sir Warren.” Syndra latched on fast, damn near burning with the same heat Warren was throwing, like she’d been itching to stamp this as a W. Took her half a heartbeat to lean in and hell, she might have outdone Warren’s smirk if she didn’t keep it so locked down. But the flicker of excitement dropped as soon as it had appeared. “However, I must inquire… Was holy magic employed at any juncture during your confrontation with this... K'hinnum, was it?”
Cole had been waiting for that question. Shit, he’d have asked it himself. No tactician with half a brain missed the difference between a temporary fix and a permanent solution. He shook his head, ribs complaining with a dull throb that made him regret the movement.
“No ma’am. Conventional only.”
Syndra sighed, and Cole recognized the sound immediately – not quite disappointment, but more exasperation. He’d heard that exact exhale in enough operations centers to last a lifetime. It was a noise he’d made himself many times before, when the intelligence didn’t match the mission parameters.
“A pity,” she said finally. “Though scarcely unexpected, I suppose, given the circumstances at hand.”
“If I might venture, Deputy Director,” Malcord said, “whilst permanently vanquishing the fiend would have been most ideal, the present outcome remains a victory yet worthy of commendation. The threat to Kidry has been neutralized, our enemy has revealed their hand, and those men not yet wholly claimed by possession have been spared further torment.”
“Quite so, Lieutenant,” Warren nodded. “And let us not discount the tactical advantage gained in reducing K’hinnum to naught but dust. Such thorough physical annihilation shall hinder their return. Weeks, perhaps as many as eight, but it is only a delay. Others of his kind may yet linger along our borders, or within our cities, waiting their turn.”
Lorresh’s shoulders relaxed at the delay estimate. A breather, however short-lived, was probably the best news the man had gotten since their mission to Kidry cleared, a lifeline he could clutch while the world stayed quiet. Cole got it – the guy was green, so anything that pushed the next fight past tomorrow was probably a win in his book.
Malcord shot that hope dead. “I fear there’s evidence to support your concern, Sir Warren. The Nevskors Kidry encountered – fire magic proved wholly ineffective against them, quite as if they were impervious. Add to that the Armored Nevskor met by Sir Ethan and Sir Miles in combat, we’ve seen three evolved Nevskors in sum.” He glanced at the men in question, who nodded confirmation.
He then paused, steeling himself for a bombshell before continuing, “It suggests to me that the Demon Lord is not merely rousing his forces, but conducting a reconnaissance in force. Unlike the grand assaults of old, it seems the demons have learned to probe our defenses… meticulously, at that. And with the possession and Mimics at his disposal, I daresay these fiends may even seek to undermine us from within ere their primary assault.”
Syndra didn’t react; her face stayed stone-cold neutral, like she’d heard this a dozen times already. This was why they hadn’t met her during their OTAC tour – she’d been locked in those ‘demon evolution’ meetings Warren had mentioned in passing.
“Y’know,” Mack started, “that Vampire Lord – K’hinnum – he said something that keeps gnawing at me. Called us complacent, said we’re leaning too hard on our Heroes. Now, I get that we’re not exactly stacking up to historical heavy-hitters or whatever badasses the other countries have cooking, but still…” He shook his head. “Doesn’t sound much like trash talk; more like they’ve got something up their sleeves.”
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He didn’t spell it out, but Cole could connect the dots. Was that just villain monologue bullshit, demons playing up their own hype? Or worse, did the Demon Lord actually have some trick to nullify the OP heroes who’d kept humanity in the game this long – something that made K’hinnum confident enough to talk shit from the grave?
“A fair observation, Sir Mack,” Syndra replied. “These matters, which merit weightier deliberation than present circumstance permits, shall be addressed upon your return to OTAC headquarters. Certain particulars demand a place of greater propriety, where the necessary discretion and measure may be afforded them.”
Whatever Syndra knew, it wasn’t getting aired with non-OTAC personnel in the room. Standard OPSEC – compartmentalize intel, need-to-know basis only.
“Indeed,” she pivoted, “if our enemy’s intent is to be revealed, we shall find it in no word they utter, but in that which lingers when their presence is sundered – possession. Dr. Gracer, what have you discerned of the afflicted?”
The way Elina sighed told Cole everything he needed to know about the complexity of the situation. “I have observed, after thorough examination, that the afflicted fall into three distinct categories – those endowed with substantial mana reserves, those possessed of remarkable willpower, and the rare few blessed with both qualities in measure.”
Cole had suspected as such. Glances toward the others suggested that they’d also arrived at the same conclusion.
“Sergeant Gallestor,” she explained, “by virtue of his standing at level ten, suffered effects least grievous of all. Indeed, he lent his aid in bearing the survivors, and thus did his case first draw my eye. Among Kidry’s men, none held a greater mana capacity than he – a circumstance which led me, in turn, to examine the others.”
Elina paced around as she continued, “Every man who yet retains his faculties possesses no less mana capacity than level five. Yet mana alone is no sure bulwark against such darkness. Corporal Hestorin, though standing but at level five, recovered with greater swiftness than Private Talmen, who stands at level six. The distinction lies in Hestorin’s resolve, for which his comrades have apparently long held him in esteem. Those rare souls blessed with both abundant mana and steadfast will, such as Lieutenant Kest, retain scarce memory of their possession at all.”
Mental fortitude as a defense mechanism. Figured. Some guys broke under interrogation in minutes; others held out for days on name, rank, and serial number alone. At this point, it probably wouldn’t be much of a stretch to theorize that their resistance to possession reduced K’hinnum’s powers to just that aura. But… That still wasn’t enough to explain how someone like that Gallestor guy or this Lieutenant Kest managed to get possessed in the first place, when it clearly failed against Ethan and Miles.
“Wait,” Cole interrupted. “Ethan and Miles are both level ten, you know how close we got to the Vampire Lord. Closer proximity, similar power levels, but no possession. If high mana and strong will are the key factors here, then how’d Gallestor and Kest get possessed at all? Doesn’t add up.”
Warren leaned forward. “Perhaps Gallestor’s account may reveal some information. What manner of torment did the man endure?”
“The Sergeant described a most wretched state: imprisoned behind his very eyes, witness to all yet master of nothing. His voice uttered words not his own, his hands performed deeds his heart opposed most fervently.” Elina’s voice lowered. “He struggled ceaselessly against this intrusion, earning for his efforts such pains as plague him still. When the sergeant mounted significant opposition, K’hinnum would, as he relates it, ‘tighten his grip,’ inflicting such torment as would render lesser men insensible.”
Christ. Conscious fucking paralysis. Sounded a lot like the depiction of zombies in tons of media – unwilling and trapped in the body of a monster. The sergeant would probably be hearing that voice in his nightmares for years, if he even slept at all. But it wasn’t an answer.
Elina paused, sighing again. “I confess, I know not the answer with certainty. Perhaps… perhaps it requires some manner of spell or ritual, that it had not the time to prepare against us? Or that the possession requires more than mere proximity – contact, connection we have yet to discern.”
“Did they remember anything from before they got possessed?” Ethan asked.
Mack caught on. “Or a gap in their memories?”
Elina nodded. “Of gaps in recollection, several men did indeed speak – moments lost to them, not only in the throes of possession, but even in the hours that preceded it. Lieutenant Kest recounted that he had taken an evening meal, only to wake thereafter amidst the fallen Kidry, at the very moment of his rescue. A strange matter indeed, for in all else, his memory remained wholly intact.”
Evening meal, then nothing? Maybe that was it. “Food, water – did they get resupplied before this happened?” Cole pressed.
“Why yes,” Lorresh answered. “Kidry’s supplies ran thin. They’d only recently sent men here to receive supplies. Standard provisions – bread, cheese, dried meat, and water barrels.” He frowned slightly. “Though the caravan arrived an hour later than scheduled, Kidry’s men maintained proper communication via flare – nothing particularly concerning at the time. We presumed normal delays on the road.”
Miles pinned what Cole was already thinking. “Hell, sounds like the caravan got bushwhacked halfway there. Reckon them boys didn’t just stumble in late – someone musta hit ‘em between flares, possessed ‘em, then poisoned the food.”
Warren got the implication immediately. He didn’t like it, that much was certain, but he understood it. “Dr. Gracer, in your interviews, did all of Kidry partake of this resupply?”
“I… I believe so, yes,” Elina lowered her head. “Though I confess I had not thought to inquire specifically about their meals before these attacks commenced.”
Malcord shook his head, clearly troubled. “If demons can now taint our provisions... oh, Lord, I’d dare not theorize. Our cities…”
Cole exhaled sharply. This was starting to feel familiar, though not in a way he liked. He’d seen something like this before – but only in that one video game his sister Macy liked playing. That old RTS, the one where a whole city needed to be purged just because someone got to their grain first. He remembered laughing about it back then, at how silly that kingdom had been for ignoring issues for so long. It wasn’t so funny now.
Malcord’s revelation had even shocked Syndra; her poker-faced facade slipped, not by much, but enough to register. Whether she’d been straight-up blindsided or had simply underestimated the severity, it landed all the same – yet another weight pressing down on top of the demon evolution concerns already clogging OTAC’s plate.
“I see,” she said, sounding like she was mentally triaging the mess. With a sigh, she decided on her orders. “Then… I shall dispatch a detachment forthwith to secure the survivors and see them conveyed to OTAC, whereupon their study and treatment shall be afforded the utmost precedence. In the meantime, Captain Lorresh – your men shall contain Kidry and its stores, sealing them against intrusion until such time as my Slayers and research division arrive.”
Lorresh didn’t look at all thrilled, but he knew what the alternatives could’ve been, so he swallowed it. “Understood, Deputy Director.”
Syndra’s gaze shifted to the rest of them. “Gentlemen, Lady Elina, this briefing concludes. No longer is the Demon Lord’s resurgence a matter of conjecture – he is roused, and we stand ready. Sir Cole, your team has accomplished a commendable feat, particularly for what was originally a mere training charge. To have stood against a Vampire Lord and emerged victorious – such an outcome is neither common nor lightly regarded. You have more than proved your mettle as heroes. Rest is warranted, and it shall be granted upon your return, after immediate matters have been settled.”
Syndra’s words hit like a dream. Cole had been waiting to finally experience Celdornian R&R. Shit, they all had.
“Once you’ve taken your rest,” Syndra continued, “your firsthand insights on strategy and the natural philosophies – of science – will inform our next course of action. Further instruction on magic will follow. See that you are prepared to receive it. Of course, the particulars remain at the discretion of the likes of Director-General Fernal, General Galahad, and our research leaders. Once provisions are in order, you and your units shall depart from Nolaren.”
Hell, she didn’t need to welcome them back twice. Cole gave her a nod. “Understood, Lady Syndra. We’re coming home.”
