Chapter 460 - One Way Out

Thanks for waiting. Very happy with this chapter now. Ended up changing a lot. Hope you enjoy!

Also, Patreon has changed their interface again. If you notice anything weird about formatting compared to normal, please could you let me know.

“Prince Gregory,” Emilia said. “I understand your desire to act, but are there no alternatives to your personal presence? Surely you can provide us the paperwork needed to access the vault?”

“Do you expect me to have my royal seal on the battlefield?” Prince Gregory laughed and shook his head. “Enough of this. I don't need to be coddled like some frail old noblewoman locked in a tower. I'm a fourth circle Chosen of Light, and I know what I must do.”

Hump still hesitated, thinking through their options. The prince’s argument that they should protect the Seal of Elenvine made sense. Problem was, it would decrease the odds of their survival substantially. But the vault and the tunnels beneath it were the target of the enemy. Hump and his party would be trapped down there with only one way out. If the warlocks got inside, all they could do was fight their way through or die.

His mind once more went to the people of the city. It was a risk he was willing to take, but not one he could decide on his own.

Noise echoed down the stairs from the outer rooms of the armoury—the warlocks getting closer. Whatever the decision, they couldn’t deliberate long or it would be made for them.

He turned to the prince. “Give us a minute.”

Prince Gregory’s brow furrowed. “We don’t have time for—”

“Then we’ll talk quickly,” Hump said flatly.

There was a beat of tension before the prince finally relented with a clipped nod. “Very well.”

Hump sent a silent instruction to Nisha to keep an eye on the prince, then led his party a short distance away, out of earshot.

“What’s this about?” Emilia asked.

“I think Gregory’s right,” Hump said, keeping his voice low. “But this isn’t just his call or mine. If we go into the vault, we’re sealing ourselves in. The warlocks are in the armoury already. They’ll be on us in minutes. If they find us, there’s no way out. We either defeat them or die.”

“All the more reason to go,” Bud said. “We cannot let the Seal of Elenvine fall.”

“I agree,” Emilia said. “If anything, I should have seen through this sooner. My family are here. If the information is accurate and the veil between realms may fall, we have to protect it. I won’t see the entire city destroyed.”

“It would be unlike us to walk away,” Dylan said with a grim smile. “We’ve been in this situation too often, haven’t we? We need to pick something more fun than fighting warlocks and demons once this is over.”

“Like what?” Hump asked.

Dylan shrugged. “Collecting wild herbs for the local guild?”

Hump snorted.

“What about you, Celaine?” Emilia asked softly. “You have no true stake in this. You could take this tunnel and leave.”

Celaine folded her arms and scowled. “You all ask me that too often, like I’m an outsider. You really think I’m going to leave? Killing evil things seems like a good enough reason to me. Besides, if Alveron falls, Drakalyn won’t be far behind.” She shrugged like it was the simplest decision in the world.

“That makes things a little easier,” Hump said. He glanced at Prince Gregory, who waited impatiently at the tunnel entrance. “There’s something I should tell you. I’ve got a backup option, though it’s one I can’t even tell the prince about.”

Hump gave them the short version of what had happened in Drakalyn—his encounter with Owalyn, her warning, and most importantly, the favour she’d granted him. A promise that he could call on her when in need.

“If you have the favour of a goddess, why haven’t you used it?” Bud asked. “She could have destroyed the tree.”

Hump gave a tired sigh. “Bud, she’s an exiled goddess that was imprisoned by the Pantheon. Do you really think she’d help fight their traitor Chosen?”

Bud frowned. “I suppose not.”

“But if it comes to it,” Hump said, “she can probably get us out.”

“Why do you say probably?” Emilia asked.

“I haven’t asked,” Hump said. “I don’t even know if she will answer if I call.”

“She’ll answer,” Celaine said. “Owalyn does not lie. She may not take all of us though.”

Hump frowned at her. “What do you mean?”

“Bud and Dylan are Chosen of the Pantheon. I do not know if she will save them.”

“Shit,” Hump murmured. “I hadn’t considered that.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bud said. “I’ll be happy enough to know the three of you live.”

Dylan gave a nod. “It makes no difference. I was willing before I knew of her favour.”

“Then I guess the decision is made,” Hump said, though he didn’t feel good about it.

Just as Hump turned to return to the prince, Celaine stepped in and wrapped her arms around him without warning. Caught off guard, he returned the hug slowly, her familiar scent somehow calming amidst the chaos. She held him close.

Then he felt her breath against his neck as she whispered, “You didn’t tell me.”

“No. She told me not to.”

Celaine pulled away with a sly smile. “So there are still some secrets between us.”

“In my defence,” Hump said, “Owalyn is terrifying. It seemed wise not to break my word to her.”

“A rare moment of wisdom for you indeed,” Celaine said, her tone teasing. “But tell me… how’s she going to save us? The Pantheon bound her to the Great Tree.”

Hump swallowed hard. “That… is a very good question. One I also promised not to answer.”

Celaine’s smile widened. Her eyes were shining with excitement, stars of essence shimmering in them. That look could only mean one thing.

She’d figured out that Owalyn was free.

For a second, Hump wondered if that was going to come back to bite him. But he didn’t tell her. She figured it out on her own, and when Owalyn came to hunt him for it, that’s the story he would stick to.

As they walked back, Hump noticed Nisha sulking at the far side of the room, eyeing the tunnel entrance with narrowed eyes.

“What’s wrong with Nisha?” Dylan asked.

“I sense a mixture of fear and intrigue,” Hump said. “But primarily I don’t think she likes the idea of going underground. She must get that from Celaine.”

“Or maybe she just has good sense,” Celaine said.

“You can relax, Nisha,” Hump said softly. “You don’t need to go in the tunnel.”

He decided not to tell her about the tunnel later, but that was a problem for when they got there.

The prince looked up them. “You’ve made up your mind then?”

“Yes. We’ll go with you,” Hump said.

Prince Gregory’s expression brightened. He stood up straight, making his way across the room back to the stairway. “Then we must move. Quickly. We’ve delayed too long already. Whoever’s in the armoury must be getting close.”

They rushed back to the stairwell and began their descent. Above them, they could hear the scrape of armour, the ring of steel, and the barked orders of warlocks as they tore through the armoury.

Nisha growled low in her throat, nearly getting stuck as she squeezed her bulk onto the stairwell. If she had another golden moment and grew any larger, Hump wasn’t sure she’d be able to get back up.

When they reached the room to the vault, Celaine remained in the stairway, keeping watch, while the rest of them moved inside.

When they reached the chamber outside the vault, Celaine halted on the stairs to keep watch, bow in hand. The others rushed inside with Prince Gregory in the lead.

The grand metal door to the vault stood before them, untouched. The room seemed still—empty.

Then, suddenly, a man sprang up from behind a pedestal, sword drawn, eyes wild. He charged at the prince with a shout.

Gregory moved fluidly, sidestepping the strike with practiced ease. Hump raised his staff, ready to blast the attacker—until he recognised the face.

The steward.

The same man who had opened the door for them earlier.

“Prince!” the steward gasped, lowering his blade immediately. “I’m so sorry. I thought—”

“What are you doing here?” Gregory asked sharply. “I told you to flee!”

The man bowed his head. “I am a Chosen of Yurthan, tasked with protecting these vaults. I thought I would find my colleagues here, but they must have gone. When I heard the noise above, I decide to remain and see if I could hold back the demons.”

“You are a brave man, steward. What is your name?”

Brave or stupid, Hump thought.

“Higrid, Prince.”

“Fortune favours us that you’re still here, Higrid. You must get into the vault. Can you open it?”

“Not by myself,” Higrid said. “The vault requires three Chosen. I have the key, but I need two more Chosen of at least the fourth circle to provide the power.”

“They’re at the top of the stairs,” Celaine called from where she held the door.

“Who’s getting closer?” Higrid asked, fear creeping into his voice.

“Later,” Gregory snapped. “Get it open!”

“Dylan and I will help,” Bud said.

As the three men moved into position, Higrid quickly ran them through the procedure. Bud and Dylan placed their hands on the carved stone panels flanking the great doors and began to pour their blessings in. Higrid inserted a key into the lock and turned it.

A heavy metallic groan echoed through the chamber. The ancient mechanisms stirred to life. Runes along the door’s frame flared with light, and the great metal doors began to part.

Hump turned back to the stairs, poking his head through the doorway. Footsteps echoed down from above, getting closer.

“How many do you reckon?” he asked Celaine.

“Four or five,” she said. “Depends how many legs they have.”

Emilia came to their side, rapier drawn. “We best get ready then.”

Both women moved like clockwork, taking up flanking positions. Nisha crept to Hump’s side, teeth bared, her snarl low and feral. Essence flared in Hump’s staff as he prepared for a fight.

A demon burst into view.

Before it could take a step, Emilia was already moving—her rapier flashed once, and the beast crumpled with a wet thud.

“Gods above,” Higrid murmured from behind. “What… what are those?”

“Demons, Higrid,” Prince Gregory said. “Now unless you wish to become better acquainted with one, I suggest you hurry!”

Another demon charged down the stairs—an arrow from Celaine took it through the throat. It collapsed beside the first, writhing weakly on the ground, clutching at its neck and wheezing blood.

More roared in rage and bloodlust behind them, and Hump heard voices up the stairs—humans. Warlocks…

“Fire, Nisha!” Hump said.

The dragon roared at his side, the room shaking with the sound as searing heat erupting from her mouth. Scarlet flames danced forward, consuming the stairway. No, not just scarlet. In them, Hump saw flakes of gold.

Screams came from in the stairs. The very stone melted from the heat. As Nisha’s flame came to an end, Hump slammed the butt of his staff against the ground. “Shield.”

A shimmering wall of blue essence sealed the stairway mouth, just in time to catch the impact of two more charging demons, panic in their eyes, their skin melting from their body. They crashed into the barrier, but it held strong. Behind them, more piled in in a mad frenzy, and soon Hump found his body aching to resist the force.

“How much longer?” he called over his shoulder.

“Almost there!” Higrid shouted. “Just a few more seconds!”

The doors groaned again, widening enough to reveal the inner armoury. Rows upon rows of artifacts mounted in their displays, bathed in the glow of the room.

“Inside!” Hump yelled, teeth gritted against the force of the demon attack. They pounded at his Shield. While lacking magic, they were physically strong. “Everyone go!”

“It can’t be opened from within,” Higrid warned. “Once it closes—”

“Worry about that if we survive,” Prince Gregory said. “Now get inside!”

Bud and Dylan rushed to push the doors shut while Nisha, Celaine and Emilia dashed through. Hump began backing up, maintaining his Shield. He heard more voices, and suddenly, the demons vanished, replaced by a mist of blood so thick it was as if the stairs had been filled with liquid red.

There was a brilliant shimmer. Hump reinforced his Shield just in time for a mighty blow. His spell cracked. He forced more essence into it, sweating from the strain, barely holding it together.

He was in the vault now, the doors almost closed, but still he feared to release his spell. A second blow struck, and ice lanced through him as his Shield shattered to pieces. The bloody mist parted, and through it stood Warlock Anthony, that same theatrical smile on his face.

The warlock raised a hand, blood swirling into barbed spikes around him.

Hump barely had time to react.

The blood spikes shot forward like arrows.

“Shit—”

He raised his staff to block, too slow.

Dylan lunged from the side, slamming into him and knocking him clear just as one of the spikes screamed past. It carved a red line down Dylan’s arm, then slammed into the wall behind them, shattering a display case.

The last inch of light vanished as the doors slammed shut behind them. A line of essence blazed up the seam and then winked out, replaced by smooth, impenetrable steel.

A second later, something crashed into the other side. The vault shook. Dust trickled down from the ceiling and walls.

Hump rolled to his feet and ran to Dylan, who was clutching his arm. Blood leaked between his fingers, and his teeth were gritted in pain.

“You alright?” Hump asked.

“Barely caught me,” Dylan said through a wince. “It’ll heal up in minutes.”

Hump let out a relieved sigh. “Thank you.” He pushed himself up and walked over to offer Dylan a hand, pulling him to his feet with the ease of dragon blooded strength.

The druid grinned at him. “You are most welcome, my friend.”

Another boom echoed through the vault, the door trembling in its fixings.

“What do you think the odds are that this holds him back?” Prince Gregory asked.

“These doors were forged by an eighth circle Chosen of Loften,” Higrid said, eyes fixed on the door. “Very few things in this world can break—”

Another boom shook the vault. Louder this time. Bits of stone cracked from the ceiling and rained down like pebbles.

“—them.”

“Unfortunately, Higrid,” Hump said. “I think we may have just met one.”