Chapter 427 - To Hunt Warlocks

Bit of a shorter chapter today after the monstrosity that was last chapter. This one hasn't been edited yet, so for those preferring more polish, check back tomorrow. I'll leave a comment once its edited and leave a message in the patreon chat.

Hump and the others approached cautiously, moving across the field of essence stones beneath the shifting veil of a Chosen of Light. Their illusion concealed them well, blending them in with their surroundings, but Hump knew that no veil was perfect. All it would take was one sharp-eyed warlock, or a demon sensitive enough to sense a disturbance, and they’d be exposed.

But for now, the essence in the air worked in their favour. The wealth of essence stones left behind by the storm camouflaged them by flooding the area with ambient magic. Even the most skilled wizard Hump had met would likely struggle to pick out subtle magic from the noise.

Still, luck would play its part as it always did. Weeks in the Remnant Realm had yielded little in terms of their battle against the warlocks. They may have recovered some temples, found a few scattered ruins, and even the corpse of a goddess, but they were no closer to keeping the seal of Elenvine and Fort Nordric safe than before. For them to do so, they would first need to find the warlock stronghold. If this proved fruitful, it might finally be the break they needed.

Hump moved near the back of the group, insisting that Nisha stay on the ground through their bond, despite her desire to fly up and take a look. She hated being kept from the air, but there would be no flight today. Nothing would give them away quicker than a dragon in the sky.

Ahead, beyond the sand and stone hills, and the swarm of shades that covered the ground like ravens picking at a battlefield, the warlock magic continued to rage. The expedition didn’t advance in a straight line. Instead, Anara directed them to a nearby rocky hill, offering a vantage point overlooking the plateau where the warlocks gathered. Behind them, Chosen of Seres stirred the air with blessings, erasing their footprints in soft swirls of sand.

When they finally crested the hill, they lay flat against the rock, barely daring to peek over the ridge. Hump and his party stuck close to Marcela, Randall, and Selene’s parties, all of them crowded together for a view.

Below, the sight stole Hump’s breath.

Figures moved in tight formations, dressed much like their own expedition, in all sorts of armour and robes, harvesting the storm’s bounty. Hundreds of them, by Hump’s estimation, flanked by fellspawn. The demon slaves trudged through the sands, collecting essence stones in heavy baskets while their masters made short work of the shades. It was organised, methodical, the warlocks cutting through shades like scythes through tall grass. Even with the lure of essence stones scattered across the lands, the shades couldn’t seem to resist the allure of the spells.

“Definitely warlocks,” Hump muttered to his companions.

“There has to be hundreds,” Bud whispered, eyes wide. “What are they all doing here?”

“I count maybe five hundred warlocks,” Celaine said. “Even more including the slaves. This is a big operation.”

“They must value these essence stones greatly to risk so many,” Emilia said. “A storm like this is a windfall. I imagine they have no choice but to harvest it. It’s tiring enough using our essence here for just the day, but to stay here for prolonged periods would require a huge amount of food for any sort of recovery.”

“Definitely,” Hump said. “My essence replenishes at a fraction of the speed here, only relying on my soul. With this many essence stones… they could sustain an army for days of battle, if not more.”

“It can’t happen often,” Dylan said. “For the first time, this realm feels alive.”

“If it’s rare, it would explain their numbers,” Emilia said. “They’re collecting a huge number of resources. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re here to supply the warlock stronghold.”

Anara’s voice cut through the quiet chatter of the expedition. “Reni.”

Everyone quietened down to listen.

A slim woman with sharp eyes shifted closer. “Marshal?”

“You will take two people you trust and return to the Elenvine temple. Report that we’ve discovered a large warlock force,” Anara said. She held out the rolled artifact map in her hand. “Our position is marked. Tell them we don’t require immediate assistance, but we will be following the warlocks to locate their stronghold. If no word returns from us within two days, Command is to assume we’re compromised.”

Reni nodded. “Understood.”

“Seems Anara is thinking the same,” Hump said quietly.

The woman selected two others, and soon the trio slipped away, vanishing down the ridge with the silent precision of Seres.

Anara turned to Prince Gregory. “Your highness, I know you wish—”

“I appreciate what you’re about to say, Marshal, but there is no need,” the prince said. “I am with you to the end. We will stalk these warlocks till the end of this realm if we must.”

A pleased grin crept over Anara’s face. “Indeed we will.”

“What now then?” Prince Gregory asked.

“Ambush?” Havard offered. “If they need these stones, we should deny them. Capture who we can, and interrogate them for the location of their main force.”

“Warlocks have proved difficult to break already,” Anara said. “The stones are a small price. What matters is where they are taking them. If we can find their stronghold, we’ll strike something more valuable than every essence stone here combined.”

She turned to Lana of her party—the spear thrower and Chosen of Rathlar, god of death. “Lana, gather a team. You’ll follow the warlocks directly. The rest of us will shadow your group from a distance. I’ll keep track of you through one of my blossoms.” Anara clasped Lana by the arm. “You must not be seen, Lana, under any circumstances.”

Hump saw that same spark in Lana’s eyes as he had in Celaine’s and even Nisha’s—the glint of a hunter that had found their prey. “I will ensure it is done, Anara.”

He turned his attention back to the warlocks below, heart thumping with excitement as he watched them work below. The shades drifted like vultures above, attracted to the storm’s lingering power. Even now, with the stones scattered like seeds, the creatures remained on edge, howling with an eerie, almost mournful cry that echoed like wind through shattered windows. While Hump was only a part of the hunt from a distance, this was progress. It also meant that he might be heading straight toward an army of demons. He wondered if Karlac was still assisting the demons of the Infernal Halls.

As Lana gathered her team, Hump saw her stride toward them. His pulse quickened as she stopped before Celaine and Teff.

“Celaine. Teff,” Lana said with quiet certainty. “I want you both on point. We’ve worked well together before, and I trust your judgment.”

“Of course, Lana,” Teff said. He turned to Marcela and the rest of his party. “Don’t cause too much trouble while I’m away.”

Celaine blinked, clearly caught off guard, though she recovered fast. “Always happy to join a hunt.”

Emilia clasped Celaine’s arm. “Good luck out there.”

Hump forced a calm breath. They were both sensible choices. Teff, a Chosen of Cern, god of the hunt, and Celaine… for obvious reasons. “Stay safe,” he said softly, meeting Celaine’s gaze.

Her expression softened into something fond. She leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “You’re worrying for nothing,” she whispered. “I’ll be back soon.” Then, with the easy confidence of a seasoned hunter, she followed Lana into the gathering shadows.

As she left, Skander was gawking at him. “Since when did you pull that!? You cast a spell on her or something?”

Hump smirked at him. “Some things you just can’t teach.”

Randall and Madeleine both laughed, while Skander just scowled.

As chatter continued, Hump didn’t really listen. He just watched as Celaine joined Lana and a couple of other hunters gathered for the scouting mission. Nisha lay against him, picking up on his worry.

Fly? Watch? Help? She tilted her head, probing. She pushed an image onto him of her flying overhead and keeping an eye on Celaine.

“You stay here with me, girl. Celaine can handle herself.” He ran a hand down Nisha’s back. She let out a sulky breath.

Fly?

Hump chuckled quietly. “Not yet. Later.”

***

Celaine crouched low behind a jagged outcrop of stone, scanning the open wasteland ahead. Hours had passed since Lana had asked for her, and finally the warlocks had finished collecting essence stones. It was time to move. She had never hunted on such ground before. Without trees or significant changes in elevation, she felt exposed. Fortunately, her prey was less observant than the beasts she hunted in the Fallen Lands.

Lana waved them to start moving again soon—slow and cautious. The five of them glided across the barren lands of the Remnant Realm like ghosts. They had no need of the illusions the expedition force hid beneath. There was a skill to not being seen, and it was one Celaine had long since mastered. She was impressed to find that the rest of the group were perfectly capable too. Too often, the people of the south lumbered everywhere they stepped, but each one of them was silent.

The dead terrain stretched on endlessly, fractured with deep fissures. Celaine hated how quiet it was. No birds, no wind, just the occasional distant howl of a shade or the crunch of small stone beneath their boots.

Hours passed like this. A slow, relentless pursuit beneath the shadowed skies. It made it worse that the warlocks did not know anyone pursued them. They moved methodically, collecting a few more essence stones here and there as they travelled, completely oblivious to their presence. And with that, came a relaxed slowness.

Celaine stuck close to Teff. She had fought with him before—he was quiet, stoic, and his demeanour was difficult to read, but she trusted him more than the others.

Hour by hour, the red sun continued to move through the sky, its dull heat warm but not hot, until it finally began to set. They had long since left behind the fractured land where the gorger had made its lair. Night would soon fall, and with it would come more dangers. If the warlocks were to break for camp, it would be now. The fact they did not made Celaine think they must be close.

Her theory proved right when the dark walls of a fortress rose from the barren rock far in the distance.

Celaine dropped to a crouch beside Teff as the horizon twisted into something otherworldly. The bleak emptiness of the Remnant Realm shifted into an alien scar upon the land. The wasteland, usually so cracked and barren, now gave way to towering remnants of petrified bones—massive, curved spires that jutted from the ground like the fossilized remains of some titanic creature. They arched overhead, creating a cage of ancient ivory, brittle yet unbroken despite the passage of centuries.

Between those skeletal arches, cradled in a depression at the base of a jagged cliff, stood the warlock stronghold. It was fused with the cliff itself, hewn from obsidian-black stone veined with crimson scars that pulsed faintly, as if the fortress itself still bled from an old wound. Its walls were angular, sharp-edged, and uneven, rising at odd angles like broken teeth gnashing skyward.

“Does anyone see anything?” Lana asked.

“Shapes on the battlements,” Celaine whispered. “There are people here.”

“You can make that out from here?” Bremmer asked.

“Just about.”

Staring at the fortress, a dark feeling crept over Celaine. There was an oppressive aura to it. A darkness that she couldn’t see, but she could feel. Below, the warlocks they’d been tracking had picked up their pace.

“Do we continue?” Aimie asked.

“No,” Lana said. “Our task is complete. Anara wanted the stronghold, and I’d bet my spear we’ve found it.”