Chapter 472

As I threw myself into Combatant’s Bloodlust, the slight thread of the clarity that sat at the back of my mind couldn’t help but laugh at something that the conscious me hadn’t ever thought of. Fighting against the spawn of Illan’Klli reminded me that humans called keelish hatchlings “spawnlings”, which I’d done for a long while after I’d reincarnated as a keelish. Thinking about it, hatchlings was somehow more tender, while spawnling communicated something about how the creature was a pest, something to be eradicated. At least, that was how the term always felt to me, and nobody in the Saharliard Empire called our young spawnlings. Now, there were creatures directly created and sent by a god that called “spawn” and that similarity brought some measure of mirth to my mind.

Then, I cut that foolish thought process out. I allowed myself to think about that only for a split second as I continued to fight. Only a day had passed since the last time we had fought against the Spawn of Illan’Klli, and already I could feel a difference in the monsters I fought. They still couldn’t pose a threat to me, they were too uncoordinated and their magic lacked the strength to penetrate my defenses, but already they were tougher and their magic more responsive. Those I’d struck with Destructive Wave had tumbled from the walls, but none died from that first attack. Fortunately, they all seemed to lack the intelligence to retreat, or maybe they couldn’t, but whatever the case was, they continued advancing up the wall.

With my opening attack made and my enemies bloodied, though I could stand to defend the wall for a long while, it was better that I instead allow my people to fight as well. Regardless of if they had access to the System’s guidance or Nievtala’s voice in their heads or not, the same general Quests were provided to all of us, and the way for a Keel to grow strong was to kill and to hunt. I would be doing myself no favors if I stole every opportunity to grow from my growing Empire's soldiers. I stood to gain nothing from slaughtering the weak while my people could grow to be the soldiers they needed to be with enough help.

All around me, the sounds of battle raged while I also struck down the enemies that came within reach. Not only the Spawn, but also the Misti Hawar hunters flooded forward, which I left exclusively to the other defenders. Their conjured shadows lashed against the defenses and torches that my people held aloft, and though I stood strong, the battle lines began to buckle. My own magic was largely uncontested against that of the people who wanted to break our walls, but ordinary flame couldn’t hope to stand against the shadows that choked out their light.

Their magic had obviously grown stronger since the last time I had stood against an assault at their hands. I couldn’t say why exactly it was, but each of the Misti Hawar that rushed forward fought with a strength that nearly matched that of their leader when she’d infiltrated my city and attempted to murder my children. As soon as I noticed it, I cursed myself for potentially missing that the night before, but turned to those who fought under my direct command.

“Stand strong against the magic,” I commanded, strengthening my people’s resolve with my voice and Overwhelming Address. “It poses a greater threat than before.”

In response, my people chittered and screeched in agreement, nothing but bloodlust and rage seeming to color their attitudes as the battle grew ever bloodier. I listened to screams of pain and anger as my people re-doubled their dedication to the destruction of our attackers. I grinned despite the slaughter, feeling the overwhelming confidence they held in me. A very literal ripple spread over my people as they threw themselves into the battle. Every time a Misti Hawar was pulled from the shadows, they were summarily ripped to pieces, their blood slicking the walls we stood on.

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Even so, the battle grew bloodier as more bodies were thrust into the fray. Kha corpses were shoved emotionlessly back towards the inside of the walls, no scrap of food able to be spared and no foothold able to be sacrificed. I focused on throwing myself at the spawn, the threat they posed far too great to be allowed to grow to the point that they could fight individual Keel on their own. Combatant’s Bloodlust revealed small points of vulnerability at their main bodies, but their tentacles fought madly to prevent my spear and claws from reaching them.

Idle thoughts about better training my people with weapons crossed my mind, but they were just the briefest moment without actively fighting that I could seize upon as the Misti Hawar themselves stopped throwing themselves at the walls. As they retreated, I saw that, despite the amount of their blood that I knew had been shed, precious few of the furry beasts had been slain. Only about twenty corpses remained, compared to over twice that in Kha corpses. No Khatif had died, but there were casualties, deep wounds and unsteady stances all around me.

The Misti Hawar had all retreated before the spawn tried to make their escape, and at that moment, I ceased any attempts at holding back for my people’s growth. I pumped my spear full of magic from my sonilphon, and as it vibrated in my hand, I whirled and threw it into the center mass of one of the monsters as it crawled away. While it was trapped with the spear through its center and buried in the ground, I turned to another and amplified every aspect of my body with Spear of the Many while using Destructive Wave to flood my claws and fangs with magic.

It attempted to scramble down the wall, but I caught a tentacle in my hand and hauled it back towards me. Writhing wildly, it could do nothing but slap worthlessly at me. On another, the shadowy magic would slice and hurt, but on me, it was like wind-tossed cloth whipping against stone. I didn’t hesitate to pull its body into my mouth, where the inky blackness tasted like void. There was no other way to describe it, and I didn’t care to. Flesh ripped apart and the beast died. As it did, the few minute wounds I’d sustained were healed by Victor’s Spoils.

With Spear of the Many still thrumming through my body, I threw myself off the parapets and towards another spawn that threw itself madly across the snowy fields that separated Nievtra’s walls from the forests where our assailants lived. Jumping into the air, I landed on top of the beast in a thrashing mass of scales, clas, and rage. Only a few short seconds passed before my vibrating claws sank into its body and ripped whatever organs it had out. The body disintegrated into shadow, and I reluctantly turned away from the other escapees. Instead of exposing myself to more danger, more surprises that may lurk in the shadows, I turned and quickly dispatched the other spawn and returned to the walls with my spear in hand, where an eerie quiet descended for a few seconds.

Then, when no more assailants approached, I raised my spear above my head and my people raised their voices in excitement while we looked at the forests that surrounded us.

“Victory by fang and blood!”

The cheers echoed through my city while I turned my attention to the other walls to see what’d happened there.