Chapter 20 : Black Magic Woman

Mnemon Rhomon, Sorcerer

Realm Year 764, Resplendent Wood

Road to An-Teng, Southern Inland Sea Coast, Barbarian Lands

There were three methods for sorcerers to deal with another’s sorcery. Countermagic, Counterspell, and Distortion. Their names in Old Realm translate into something more like ‘Destroy, Deny, and Distort’ but that was slightly less clear than their modern labels. 

To Distort a spell was to subvert some component of it. To take hold of the shaped essence of another’s work, twist some essential function, and render it significantly less convenient than before. It was a precise hobbling of enemy magics- Like boring a hole into the bottom of a fired pot, undermining its purpose and letting water or sand spill through. A gap might be opened in a ward, a conjured servant might be made blind, things of that nature. 

Counterspelling, or Denying a spell would be to prevent it from ever taking shape. As the sorcerer might shape the essence around him into a spell, an enemy sorcerer could simply unshape the spell before it actualizes. Like smashing a fist into a clay pot before it's fired, ruining the work before it has a chance to work. 

Countermagic, or Destroying, was the most basic and final method. The chant was made, the essence was shaped, and a great erasure of local magics was created. A rippling of essence that unmade effects below a certain permanency. It was a spell designed to simply wipe clean other spells, to unmake them, to unravel them and to let their bound essence dissipate. Like making a bomb that destroys every clay pot around and scatters their fragments. 

Countermagic was, ultimately, another form of spell, so it could be counterspelled and prevented from taking shape. Unlike lingering spells, countermagic destroyed itself in the process of actualizing, and so distortion was useless against it- nothing remained to distort. 

Rhomon had been trying very hard to do just that, counterspelling his enemy to prevent them from conjuring a bomb of antimagic. Unfortunately, they were just a little bit more practiced than he was, it seemed.

His Virtuous Guardian of Flame winked out, shrouding him in darkness. His talismans cracked, one after another. Shuri was screaming incoherently. There were three blood-apes, two of which were currently beating his allies like drums. His familiar was injured. The enemy was still unharmed. His shoulder hurt. His boots were super-comfortable.

Altogether, not a great time. 

“Cousin! What’s wrong with Shuri!?” Siata called out, currently barely stopping himself from being torn apart by a series of rapid hops and swings. The blood ape seemed like it was having fun more than anything, giving a toothy ape grin as it lazily swung and knocked him around.

“I don’t know!” Rhomon called back, mind racing to formulate a plan of action. Shuri screamed, slamming his blade into the blood ape’s side, then a fist into its face, then a clinch, then wrestling it into the ground and spinning into a heavy toss that smashed it against a crumbled boulder. A bestial savagry that welled up from the prince after a vomiting episode that coincided with-

-The enemy’s countermagic. It didn’t destroy any one spell, it destroyed all magic in a region, which included Shuri’s calming medicines and forced the beastman to expel. He grit his teeth. “Keep Shuri alive- I’ll work on a plan!” He ordered, spinning his staff and turning to the cart.

He was forced to jump to the side as a wavy dagger smashed into the wood. “As if I’d let you!” The enemy sorcerer called out smugly, drawing another trio of daggers and waving them around. No spells? He narrowed his eyes, rolling and running around the side of the cart, out of the way of two daggers but into the path of the third. 

He grunted, staggering forwards and slipping behind cover as the battle raged behind him. His chainmail, now fractured of its enchantments, was still protecting him well enough from mere daggers. He reached back to tug the new blade out thoughtfully, frowning. 

The countermagic had negated the effects of any of his potions, so if these were poisoned, he was shit out of luck. Nothing he could do but hope he resists it if he gets hurt. 

Screams of bestial rage and the rippling echoes of elemental destruction continued behind him. 

“Hiding like a bitch now! You sorcerers are so pathetic!” His enemy called out hypocritically, a smug and malicious laughter in her tone. 

He needed more time to think. His familiar made an annoyed crone on his shoulder, and the ram lizard chuffed in agitation.

Rhomon’s eye snapped over to it. The ram lizard remained at the front of the cart, looking dumbly at the fight and feet scratching at the road. The sixteen foot, several hundred pound, natural battering-ram, ram lizard. 

He reached up, hand pulling back to avoid a hurled dagger, then shooting forwards to snatch his old sword and ripping it out of the sheath. He leapt over to the ram lizard, onto its back and sword flashing to cut the leather straps that bound it to the cart. The ram lizard pulled up in confusion to stare back at him.

He snapped his fingers and jumped off, dragging his hand down along the side of its head and renewing his hypnosis. “Attack Blood Apes!” He commanded in Old Realm. 

A purpose entered its eyes. The ram lizard pulled forwards and around with fury, then began a full-fledged charge in the direction of the ongoing battle. 

The blood apes were each slightly larger than a man, and superhumanly strong, decently fast, and capable of powerful combat magics. A ram lizard was much larger, much stronger, and almost as fast in a straight line. 

“Look out you idiots-!” The enemy sorcerer attempted to warn the apes who were in the middle of a somewhat even clash between a blood-raged Shuri and a bonfire-essence Siata. While they both noticed in time, one was caught by a furious snakeman’s hand and locked in place. Claws flashed to rip chunks out of Shuri’s forearm, but the grip held. 

A moment later, more than a thousand pounds of angry lizard with a reinforced skull collided with the demon with a ferocious crack. 

“Damnit!” The sorceress cursed, flinging another trio of daggers at the enraged ram lizard, doing little more than sticking into its thick hide. 

“Nice work cousin!” Siata grinned, turning to him while wreathed in destructive essence. 

“Try to finish one off!” Rhomon ordered with a sharp wave of his hand. “Don’t let them recover!”

“Of course!” The dragonblooded grinned, dashing forwards with renewed confidence to chop at the other blood ape, which was in the process of wrestling and clawing at an increasingly bloodied Shuri. 

The snakeman was looking increasingly ravaged, flesh on his arms tearing into angry strips and guts leaking blood, barely holding his intestines within. His scream had since devolved into a wordless fury. 

The longer this fight went on, the less chance Shuri had to live. Those wounds would already be fatal if left untreated, and Rhomon couldn’t treat him until after the apes were dealt with. His treatment was already going to be shoddy- he’d need time to brew the potions. Shuri might be a ghost already, and just not know it yet…

A ghost. 

Rhomon’s eyes snapped to the distant walls of the Domain of the Silver Crowned, and the shadows their fight was taking place in. A plan formed in an instant. 

He forced a heel into the dirt and spun, forming a circle on the ground. He cleaved into his own hand, spilling blood over the circle as fast as he could manage. His familiar began a trilling bird-song that carried over the rolling hills and well into the air.

“Erase, unravel, unmake-” The enemy began the chanting of countermagic, snapping a hand in his direction after noticing that he was doing something vaguely sorcerous. The fact that she was trying this told him something very important. 

They weren’t actually very knowledgeable, otherwise they’d be countering this by completely different means. 

He smirked, snapping his hand forwards. The shiny shape of a hurled dagger flashed through the air. He can throw daggers too, demon-summoner. 

The sorceress was forced to abort her spell, on account of a dagger smashing into her arm and punching through to the other side. The demon ape standing next to her had watched with passive disinterest the whole time. 

“Agh!” She groaned, staggering back and clutching at her now injured arm, forced to drop her sword. “You idiot- why didn’t you stop that?!” She snarled at the blood ape next to her, who didn’t bother looking in her direction. 

“Only a moron summons a demon, and only a special kind of moron summons a demon unsuited to the task at hand!” Rhomon mocked, reaching over to the cart to tug out another dagger as his familiar continued her cooing bird-lizard song. “It’s a blood ape! Why would it be interested in defending you from something that doesn’t bleed?”

“Shut your mouth, sorcerer!” She snapped at him, pulling the dagger out slowly, only to abort into a dodge as he flung another one of her daggers back at her. “Grr- You, go kill them!” She snapped a hand at the blood ape.

“Finally.” The blood ape growled, beginning a lurching run forwards. If she had ordered that from the beginning, they’d probably be dead already, Rhomon considered grimly. Not to say it was a mistake, for if he had a bound spirit of his own he could’ve ordered it to attack, which the blood ape would be needed to defend from…

Battles between sorcerers were annoying and filled with bluffs and counters like that. 

“Shuri!” Siata called out in a panic, making Rhomon’s gaze snap over. Shuri had collapsed in a pool of blood and viscera, the blood ape prevented from finishing him off by Siata’s heavy cleave removing that clawed hand at the wrist. The dragonblooded hefted his blade cautiously, facing off from the blood ape and sheathed in elemental fury. 

His clothes were ravaged and his armor covered in heavy grooves, with the occasional bleeding scratch along his hardened exalted skin. 

The ram lizard was gaining additional scratches by the moment, the injured demon getting clawed swipes in between being thrashed to the ground and smashed against ruins. 

The final demon was rapidly approaching, galloping on clawed limbs towards the ongoing battle. 

The familiar’s song wasn’t over. 

Rhomon had a choice. Move to support Siata and buy a bit more time for the song to conclude at the expense of leaving Shuri untreated, or move to stabilize Shuri, leaving Siata and the ram lizard alone to handle three demons while he bandaged their ally. Either way Shuri was out of the fight, and leaving Siata to his own might kill him too, leaving Rhomon alone to hold out while his plan was carried out.

Sacrifice one to help save the rest. That was the most rational decision.

“Siata! You aren’t allowed to take a single step back, you hear me?!” Rhomon roared, dashing towards the fallen snake prince. 

“Cousin?!’ Siata asked with a worried grimace, casting a glance back to him as the demons began to gang up on the raging ram lizard. 

“You are a Prince of the Earth!” Rhomon yelled in his most commanding, sorcerous rumble. “Our victory on your shoulders! There is a sword in your hands, your steed is before you, already engaged with the enemy! There is only one path before you, you merely must walk it!”

A trio of daggers followed his path as he ran, only one making its mark and landing on his side, blunted by the chainmail and his hardened skin. He grunted and ignored it. 

His knees scraped the earth as he slid next to Shuri’s side, checking for a pulse. A faint thump-thump of weakening heartbeat greeted him. His torso was ravaged by injuries, as was his limbs, and tears in skin and muscle went down to scratched bone and organ. 

Siata’s gaze lingered for a moment, before he turned back towards the raging ram lizard, and the apes that were ripping into its hide with significantly more abandon now that their ally had joined them.

The dragonblooded roared, leaping forwards, aura of power suddenly renewing and increasing in strength. The shape of something fanged and sinuous flickered in his destructive shroud, before disappearing just as quickly. Like a blue-green comet, he crashed into the side of a blood ape.

The demon made a contemptuous block with its claws and, as one of its hands was missing, threw its head forwards to bite, jaws widening enough to enclose the dragonblood’s head entirely, hide holding true against his aura of destruction. 

Siata’s fist raced forwards, fingers pulled together in a clawed fashion, lancing into the back of the demon’s throat. Waves of blood followed as destructive energies poured into its maw, and the demon was forced to gag and stagger back. 

Siata, drenched in blood and roaring wordlessly, pressed forwards and made another heavy cleave, biting deep into the demon’s other arm. 

All the while, Rhomon worked to keep Shuri alive. Pressure points in the limbs were pressed hard, locking the precious blood from leaking out of injuries there. Strips of clothing were torn and tightened around open injuries in the gut. Faint breathing was reinforced with heavy presses of the chest. 

If he was any less trained, this would be a lost cause. If he didn’t know alchemy as well as he did, Shuri would die in a few hours anyways. If he wasn’t working on his plan, then they’d die in a few moments anyways as the demons overwhelmed Siata. 

He leaned back, dodging out of the way of another hurled dagger. 

“How many of those do you have?” He asked with annoyance, bandaging the last injuries along the snake-prince’s torso. He had to wrap almost everything here. 

“Enough!” The enemy called out, tossing another blade. He smacked it away with his sword, making an observation.

The sorceress wasn’t even trying to cast any other spell, despite how distracted he clearly was and how much it might help her allies. Even a basic combat sorcery would’ve turned the tide so thoroughly that her victory would’ve been assured. Its not like she was under any obligation to care about the demons, so hitting them in the same spell wasn’t a problem either.

No, she just kept throwing a quickly diminishing stock of daggers using her one good arm. 

Was it because she was reserving herself to counter his spells, or was it because she didn’t know any other spells? 

Shuri was as bandaged as he’d ever be. Rhomon took off his helmet, leaving the snake prince propped on it to prevent drowning in his own spit, and rose from the ground. Another sweep of his blade parried a hurled dagger.

“You’re looking rather ragged there, sorcerer. Perhaps you should’ve tried to run.” She mocked, arm dangling at her side, tossing a wavy dagger up and down in the other hand. The blade glinted faintly in the light of Siata’s flickering aura, making the shadows around her dance.

The familiar’s song was complete. Through her bird-eyes, Rhomon saw his plan come to fruition.

Grinning, he snapped his fingers and pointed at the trio of blood apes. “Attack the Demons.” His command rippled over the air, and the sorceress paused, pulling back and looking around.

From the shadows around their battlefield, packs of hungry ghosts loomed. They had been drawn by the scent of blood and the music of his familiar, and were just barely bestial enough for him to command them like they were animals. 

The sorceress paled, stepping back. “N-necromancer?!”

“Your education was pretty lacking, wasn’t it?” Rhomon smirked as the hungry ghosts, as many as a dozen, began to respond to his command. Leaping and snarling over the shadows, they ignored Siata and the Ram Lizard and fell upon the demons, their lipless maws tearing into demon flesh and their ghostly claws ripping into flesh. Siata brought his blade up nervously, looking at the parade of ghosts that swept around him and forced the demons back.

“Rest.” Rhomon commanded, gesturing towards the Ram Lizard. The beast collapsed in an instant, and he ran over to start doing what he could to stabilize it. Great, gnarly tears in its hide leaked blood, and its eyes were closed from all the scratches and tears that mangled its face. It was blind now, he noted grimly, another thing he’d need to fix after this battle was over.

Siata took a shaky step forwards before collapsing to the ground, blood spilling from his lips and aura of destruction flickering inconsistently. His breathing was heavy and eyes unfocused. 

A dagger smashed into his shoulder, making Rhomon snarl and pull back, standing up to rip it out of his armor. The tip was dipped in his blood. 

“I’m still here, sorcerer.” The enemy declared with a hiss, withdrawing more daggers. A frankly unreasonable number of daggers. 

He glared, standing up from the ram lizard and stepping forwards, flicking his sword. His vision blurred suddenly, making him lurch and pause. He grit his teeth and jammed a finger into his shoulder, the pain focusing his vision again. 

“I was wondering when my poison would finally start affecting you- you’re quite resilient, sorcerer.” She mocked, wicked grin concealing a note of worry. 

He pressed the tip of his sword into the ground, using it as a cane while he worked out how to deal with this situation. The ghosts were still swarming the blood apes, all of his allies were down, he was beginning to fall under the sway of an unknown poison…

…He had hit her with her own dagger earlier. She’d be poisoned too. All he had to do was hold out long enough for her to feel the effect of the poison, and then his familiar could tear her throat out.

The raiton made a hissing caw as it flapped over, circling over his head once before landing on his shoulder. 

He gave his most intimidating smile.

“I’m not stupid enough to approach you.” The sorceress mocked, pulling out another dagger. She withdrew it from the shadows of her sandy-pale cloak, where no such straps or bindings for daggers were present. Conjured blades then? That explained why she never seemed to run out. “I’m going to stay back here, well out of danger, and sheathing my dagger into you over and over again until you expire.”

She smirked, licking her blade. “Why, it’s so romantic, don’t you think?”

Either she was an idiot or she was immune to her own poison. He raised himself up, forcing himself into a straight-backed stance, then adjusted the grip of his sword to be more suitable for throwing.

“Wanna gamble, demon-summoner?” He asked with a wide smile, doing his best to stop the swaying. “You might kill me through my armor- but I’ll definitely kill you through those clothes.”

“Can you even aim right now?” She asked, smile faltering slightly.

He stayed silent, smile splitting into a grin again. He wasn’t really sure, if he was being honest.

The moment lingered. The ghosts ripping into the blood apes echoing over the field of injured allies. 

He swayed. She shifted her grip. Whoever attacked first…

An arrow hissed through the air, breaking the tension. She glanced over just in time to hop back, an arrow punching into the ground next to her. “Wha-!”

She performed a rather acrobatic series of hops and even one flip, avoiding a hail of arrows that followed her path.

Rhomon’s eye wandered over. At the front of a band of white-haired warriors with bows, javelins, and swords was the bald head of Brahm. The monk’s expression was furious, but his pace was calm as he nocked another arrow and took aim at the sorceress.

“Arrows loose at will upon the demon worshipper!” A silver-haired man snarled, clad in furs and plates, raising his sword and roaring a command at his cohort of similar soldiers. 

“Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!” The sorceress cursed, starting a full-blown evasive run away, rapidly chased by the arrows of the soldiers. 

Rhomon smirked, exhaling in relief. 

“Sorcerer-”

He didn’t hear what Brahm said next, as his face met the bloodstained grass and his vision went black.