Chapter 130 – Shouts of Fire and Beememberance
Those moments where Vlugh’s Mind disappeared caused a sense of despair so extreme Grehn felt he might crumble to dust. He had watched, helpless, as Meyara ran at him, faster than Grehn could move. All he could do was desperately swing his sword, sending a wave of water towards the Knight sliding under his friend. Ben had just begun to reach their position once again in his loops around town, and Grehn saw every second in horrible, excruciating detail. Vlugh’s reaction. Meyara sliding. The slash of water barely displacing the gun, only enough to save Vlugh’s life. The second shot, an invisible bullet entering the roof of Vlugh’s mouth and exploding from the top of his head.
Grehn nearly emptied the contents of his stomach. Vlugh’s lifeless body fell, landing next to Meyara’s prone form. The world held its breath. Or maybe it was the hive. What was the difference anymore?
In his ears, Grehn heard a distant growl, as if a mountain were angry at the sky. An explosion of Mind came alive, hot yet distinct from the searing anger of Beelzebub. The source, amazingly, was Vlugh’s body. He only saw it because of Ben’s sight; Vlugh rose to all fours in a heartbeat and sucked in air, his chest distending like a sack filling with water.
Then he roared.
It wasn’t a scream as it usually was - at least, Grehn didn’t think so. This was truly a roar, guttural and deep, and the flames that followed were similarly gut-wrenching. A massive gout of fire, the same orange and yellow as before, now flecked with sparks of black, enveloped Herwen before the shock could be wiped from the man’s face. As before, the flames shewed at the Mind armor like a hungry beast, but this time, it was far hungrier, eating away at the armor like a fresh basket of lemons. His screams could barely be heard within the flames. This was Vlugh’s [Shouts of Fire and Remembrance]. Evolved, brought to the next level, more destructive and Mind-starved than ever before.
“Damn.”
Meyara’s single spoken word was followed by a brutal kick to Vlugh’s side, generating enough force to send Vlugh soaring over a nearby house despite her awkward position. The flames followed Vlugh, but he cut them off as he flew - or maybe his lungs had been destroyed by the kick.
For the first time during the entire fight, Grehn paused. What he had just seen was a ride of emotion that left him almost as exhausted as getting beat down on by the Knights. But as Meyara panicked while Herwen continued screaming, rolling around on the ground - either to extinguish the fire or simply due to the pain - he knew an opportunity when he saw one.
“Ben, you see it, right? Lahim can be Linked. Vlugh gave us an opening. Is the other one ready?”
“Yeah. I think I’m gonna pass out.”
A quick glance told Grehn all he had to know. He couldn’t actually see Ben, but he knew exactly where he was. He could, however, feel Jey’s Mind. It was getting close enough to send a shiver down his spine. If he clashed with that, his arms would be pulverized. That was assuming he even had enough energy left to hold his sword without shaking.
He had no time to waste. There was no point in the makeshift plan if he ended up dying for it to work. He nodded at Elofan, pointing towards the crowd of shaken, wide-eyed cultists. Somehow, she understood, and aimed her stolen rifle at the crowd and prepared to fire.
This was one of the many pivotal moments. Since he had upgraded his Ability, Grehn hadn’t stopped moving his sword. Even when he had paused just then, he hadn’t allowed the flow to stop. He knew that, once it did, he wouldn’t be able to use his Ability to its fullest for some time. He had to pour everything into this strike. So, with his sword still moving in waves and figure eights, he thrust, a mighty stream of water blasting towards the still panicking Meyara.
This was his final slash, containing all the constant flow he could muster. Although the water left his sword, he could still make it flow, so instead of landing a possible hit on Meyara’s back, he sent it into a sharp curve, intending to hit her chest head-on.
Of course, it was useless. Despite her still burning comrade, Meyara’s senses and reaction were beyond sharp. Her arm thrust forward, her bayonet easily deflecting the most powerful attack Grehn had ever achieved like he was a child playing with Mind.
A gunshot rang out as Meyara’s raised bayonet and the slash of water sang. The target: someone in the crowd of cultists. It seemed that she chose Lahim.
The Link was established just in time for Grehn to hear Lahim’s scream of pain from being shot in the stomach. He growled a curse internally; Lahim was the target of the Linkers. If he died, this would become incredibly inconvenient. Whether because she wasn’t so good with the weapon, or because she didn’t mean to kill anyone, she had hit him in the leg. Good enough.
“Lahim! Stop killing them, you monster!” Grehn shouted with all the energy he could muster.
Meyara stared at the man who was at the other end of her rifle in bewilderment. Well, he wasn’t actually in her rifle’s path exactly. But for the people slowly emerging from their homes, it made little difference.
This was the only possible way to survive: a desperate gamble. Using the regular, innocent townsfolk of Lemonholm as a weapon against the unsuspecting Knights. Thanks to Lahim, Grehn now knew that the people were accustomed to staying in their homes well into the next day when they received the message of a miniature wooden charm delivered to their doorstep - a sort of replica of the masks. It was a message, telling them that no matter what they heard, saw, or experienced, it was important business.
It made Grehn queasy. The people knew that something horrible was happening outside. They knew a fellow townsperson was burning, dying, hanging. It wasn’t that they feared the cult - they revered them. To the people of Lemonholm, the actions of the Lemonholm Betterment Club were a sacred thing that should not be interrupted by any means, so until the all-clear was given, they would not leave their homes for any reason.
The other Linked human, a man Grehn didn’t recognize, advanced in age though not quite as much as Muweh, ushered people from the homes, mentioning the all-clear. He collected the wooden charms, pointing people towards the main street where Grehn stood with his finger pointing. He was not a member of the Club, but was old enough to know their practices. A safe target. The hive just needed an insider in the Club. Someone respected enough, powerful enough, and convincing enough to take the next steps.
“Help us! The Knights have gone on a rampage. They are killing us. Please, I beg of you, help the mercenaries to drive the Knights out!”
Lahim’s confusion didn’t matter - his voice was all that was needed. The bees didn’t even need to control his other movements, thanks to Elofan. His pain and desperation were, in a sense, real.
It wasn’t enough to suddenly make hundreds of innocent people throw themselves at the Knights. Herwen had finally put out the fire and was standing, his ghostly armor flickering in shambles. He was breathing heavily. Herwen could still fight, and could surely defeat Grehn in his current state, but he wouldn’t be able to handle a complete assault by so many people for long. Meyara and Greyan were another story. Meyara was already shaking her head, taking aim at the cultists. Greyan’s attacks had slowed as a crowd built around him, whispering and watching.
It might not win them the fight immediately, but it won them time. Grehn led Elofan to a group of onlookers, people who looked at him with a mixture of disgust and respect. This was the true gamble. Would the Knights pivot and try to kill every person in Lemonholm? It would mean the deaths of over a thousand people, of an entire population. The Knights as an organization were already in hot water, and Greyan struck the hive as decent and honorable. At the very minimum, he would hesitate. That was all they needed.
And hesitate he did. Beelzebub didn’t falter, sensing the hesitation Greyan felt being surrounded by innocents. She charged straight at him, putting him on the back foot. Grehn suddenly felt a headache and a sharp pain between his shoulder blades. It was Beelzebub. Her charge was dodged by Greyan and, faster than even she could she, he cut off an entire wing to the root. Only because of her body’s faster movement did she keep her left wings intact, but thanks to the combination of Greyan’s and Muweh’s Abilities, she didn’t escape unscathed. Greyan was looking to finish the fight.
He would have to wait. Beelzebub’s true goal had been to go past him while sending him off balance, a goal she had achieved excellently. She buzzed over the heads of the crowd and towards the cultists, flying as quickly as she could, sending shockwaves through the town. Greyan tried to follow, but the crowd prevented him from reaching Beelzebub’s speed. Meyara moved to counter, Herwen jumped to block, but they only succeeded in slowing Beelzebub down enough for her stinger to not fully impale Muweh’s frail body.
It took a second, but when people realized what had happened, they gasped in shock and rage. After all, Muweh Sawah, the beloved wife of the town’s City Lord, a Lord which had just been murdered, was attacked before their very eyes.
For the Lemonholmians, it must have seemed that everything was falling apart around them. It was certainly how the random old man who had gotten Linked felt. For the hive, though, things were turning around. A blow against Muweh was a blow against the Knights. She was less predictable than the Knights were, but she was, in a way, reliable. She would be cunning, quiet, and ruthless, and someone like that would not be happy with being injured, much less an injury that could cause them to lose those strongest qualities of theirs. She had seen the effects Beelzebub’s sting had on Jey, so how would that fate be viewed in her eyes?
Judging by her sudden panic: not favorably.
“No! Meyara, you fool- No, you must help. We cannot allow those bees to escape!” She lurched, falling to her knees. “Capture that one. Capture it! The poison must be cured!”
Beelzebub’s job was done, but she had suffered a blow. Her right wings were gone, and her stamina depleted from that final mad dash. Meyara was primed to grab her, but Beelzebub would not go down without a fight. Her stinger clashed against Meyara’s outstretched gauntlet, and she shot upwards immediately after, dodging an invisible grasp. Grehn hadn’t even sensed it. For the first time, Beelzebub extended gratitude towards the humans. They had observed Meyara’s Ability enough times, analyzed it decently enough, and thanks to Vlugh’s final attack, come to understand Meyara’s Ability enough for Beelzebub to have a fighting chance in her state.
The details weren’t known, but it was enough to know that Meyara could attack multiple times, for a maximum of four outside of her original attack. In fact, the duplication wasn’t limited to attacks, but any action Meyara took. The additional actions could not be seen, but they could be felt ever so slightly based on Meyara’s Mind usage during her movements. Her actions could be delayed for some time, though how long wasn’t clear.
It was enough information for Beelzebub. Meyara was strong, but Greyan was much faster. She would be able to sting Meyara as well. Greyan was on his way, but the people of Lemonholm restricted him like chains.
“As you can see, Muweh Sawah is a traitor. She is an agent of those disgusting Mind Inquiry Service tyrants! She ordered the Knights to kill us. Please, in the name of the Human, help us!”
“Shut up.”
Meyara fired a shot, nowhere near Beelzebub. One of the Club members had already thrown themselves in front of Lahim, Meyara’s target, arms wide. The man fell unceremoniously, clutching his stomach. The gunshot elicited screams. People would begin to panic soon. Was that ideal? Grehn wasn’t sure.
As he watched everything transpire, trying to squeeze Elofan into the crowd of Lemonholmians, Grehn suddenly felt overcome with intense discomfort. Grehn thought he would be sick. Most of the Lemonholmians did not share his nerve. A wave of sheer power, a thunderous cloak of uncontrollable rage, and an eerie calm that held it all together descended, enough to make Grehn’s Mind sway as if it were being pulled into the unnatural flow.
“You deem it right, within my sight, to invoke my precious name? It is alright, oh kindred spright; your Mind, we shall reclaim.”