Chapter 168: The Dwarven City of Weiburg
A messenger bird, a familiar magical aura clinging to the parchment it carried, broke through the forest's barrier and came to a halt before Serie. It was a letter from Ela. As she read it, her calm expression was replaced by a mask of cold fury.
"Northern dwarves, city of Weiburg, under heavy demon attack, with great losses. And to the west, a new human nation is in a state of constant conflict with the Kingdom of Ersten. I suspect the demons are behind it, trying to divide us."
Flamme's heart sank. The Kingdom of Ersten, a place she had heard about not only from him but from her own parents, the first human nation, a beacon of hope for all her kind... and now, it was under attack.
The demons... they were back. The flames of her own revenge, which she had so long suppressed, were now rekindled.
Rhodes's brow was also furrowed as he read the letter. He looked up, and his gaze met hers. A thousand years of unspoken understanding passed between them. Her peaceful days of teaching were over. Her trial by fire had come early, a response to the changing tides of the world.
"Flamme," she said, her voice a sharp command, "get your staff. We're leaving."
A jolt ran through the girl, and she met her teacher's calm, steady gaze. Fear? No, not fear, but a rekindled rage, a reawakened hatred. "Yes, teacher," she said.
He saw the fear in her eyes and gently patted her on the shoulder. "Don't be nervous. Trust in your own strength. And no matter what happens, we'll be by your side." His words were a comforting balm on her frayed nerves, and a strange and complex emotion that only she could understand stirred within her.
And a short time later, the three of them shot out of the quiet forest like arrows from a bow.
They would go north first, to the dwarven city, to deal with the demon's assault, and to see if Shurahat was behind it all. The conflict between the two human nations was less pressing.
The journey was a long and arduous one. One night, as they sat by the fire, Flamme finally worked up the courage to ask the question that had been weighing on her mind. "Teacher Rhodes... where did you learn so much about magic?"
To her, he was just a young man, not much older than herself. But he possessed a knowledge that rivaled that of a thousand-year-old elf like Serie. She couldn't help but ask.
"When you have lived for a long time," he said, his voice a calm and distant sound, "you see many things."
Lived for a long time...
She mulled over his words, and the old suspicion returned. She looked over at Serie, who was dozing against a rock, her face a picture of a serene beauty in the moonlight. A human and an elf... what was their story? And this "long time"... how long was it?
She didn't dare to ask any more questions. But the curiosity about his true identity, it was a vine that was slowly, but surely, tightening its grip around her heart.
The further north they went, the colder and drier the air became.
She saw them then, a range of towering mountains, one side a pristine white, the other a lush green, a sight so strange and wonderful that it took her breath away. He saw the look on her face and explained the strange geography to her. And then, when they had crested another high ridge, a new, even more breathtaking, sight met her eyes.
In a massive, circular mountain range, a grand and majestic city had been carved from the very heart of a hollowed-out peak. A thousand white stone houses, connected by a network of crisscrossing staircases, formed a magnificent white fortress.
But now, the fortress was under siege.
Outside its walls, a black tide of monsters was relentlessly battering against its defenses. In the sky, dozens of flying creatures were circling, dropping fireballs on the dwarven defenders, and the sounds of explosions and screams filled the air.
On the walls, the dwarves fought with a desperate courage, even resorting to some of their "black technology," tossing barrels of gunpowder into the horde below, which exploded in a brilliant display of fire and death. And he could even see the flicker of magic on the walls, a sign that the dwarves had hired mages to help in their defense.
But the demons' assault was a relentless one, and the walls had been breached in several places. Small groups of monsters were now pouring into the city, and a brutal close-quarters battle was now being waged on the battlements.
The stench of blood, carried on the wind, assailed her senses, and the full, unadulterated horror of war was laid bare before her. Her face turned pale, and her stomach churned. The fighting spirit she had felt in practice... it was so small, so insignificant, in the face of this.
"This is a battlefield," Serie's voice, a calm and steady sound in the chaos, came from beside her. "Put aside your weakness. Remember, every second you hesitate, more dwarves will die. See those flying monsters? They are the greatest threat. Your first target... is them. Can you do it?"
The command was absolute.
She looked at the monsters, at their savage and unrestrained fury, and a new fear, a real and visceral fear, gripped her. To hit such fast-moving targets, in the midst of all this chaos... could she do it?
"I..." her voice trembled.
Just then, a warm hand rested on her shoulder. "Believe in yourself, Flamme," he said. "Just like in practice. Lock on to your target, and guide your magic. Don't worry about being interrupted. We're right here with you."
His words were a magic of their own, and they chased away her fear. She remembered all the countless hours of practice. If she were to back down now, all of their teachings would have been for nothing.
She took a deep breath, and forced herself to be calm. She closed her eyes and, focusing all of her mind, all of her will, she began to draw on the magic within.
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