Rules of Biomancy: A LitRPG Healer Fantasy

Chapter 142: Misplaced Pity



The siege was on its third day. The armies of dwarves and elves would take another three days to arrive.

Vera's reports documented a thousand mages, thirty thousand soldiers, and nearly forty thousand civilians dead. For the first two figures, the number was shared between both sides, but the third figure was fully on the side of Serenova.

Should've been a tenth at most.

Seven percent of the civilian population inside the city had perished. Most of that number came from the fire bombings and the chaos that ensued, but the remainder came from the resentment. People were angry, instigating fights with both each other and guards, leading to unnecessary death and destruction of resources. Vera had pleaded for the people to sit tight, to stay in the bunkers and wait until it was safe, but the cramped conditions had made folks stir crazy. They wanted out; they wanted an end to this war. Even with enough food and drink to keep everybody alive for several more weeks, the panic had been steadily growing.

Though… looking out into the distance, Vera supposed they couldn't be blamed. Beyond the city walls, the armies of Castilla were ever-present, amassing in higher and higher numbers. Current estimates counted two hundred thousand souls, several hundred artillery weapons, and enough powerful mages to squash Kulvik into nothing.

And yet they hadn't charged. The armies, large enough to crush Vera's home, stood still. The first day had made it seem like it would be a quick end to Kulvik, with the countless mages sent forth, but the pushback had seemed to make them wait. Whether it was Jack's mortars killing the enemy footsoldiers by the hundreds, Elijah's grass traps stopping them from stepping into any patch of green, or Alin fighting twenty of Castilla's greatest Royal Mages to the death, Vera couldn't say, but the enemy were waiting for something.

Alin, you idiot.

Her honorary uncle's death had come as a shock. Vera wasn't angry at Alin for his demise. He'd stopped twenty mages who'd planned to pave the way for easy entry into the city, after all. Without his quick reactions, Kulvik would've already fallen, but… Vera should've seen the attempt coming. If she'd been smarter, if her spy network had uncovered the plans, Alin would still be here.

"Maybe you could've done a better job at this as well," Vera mused, looking into the ceiling of the room. She was one of the few people left in the castle now. It was a major target for future long-range attacks, after all, and anybody non-critical to the castle's operations had been herded into the shelters. "Some stroke of brilliance would do me good just about now."

Nobody answered, as nobody could hear her, and no flames seemed to ignite in her head. Vera felt empty. Maybe going three days without a wink of sleep could be blamed for that. Harper certainly thought so, with her comments about her needing to close her eyes for more than five minutes at a time. Vera understood her worries, but she also knew that sleeping was impossible right now. The thought that she wouldn't be awake and alert when something happened… It frightened her.

A flash of red made her half-sunken eyes wide open. One of the papers on the corner had a new message, one from her people in the upper district.

'Major altercation in the upper district shelter. Guard reinforcements requested.'

If it reached her, it meant that several hundred had gotten rowdy simultaneously. One of the commanders would've normally handled these, but they'd also been stretched thin now. The soldiers had been barricading the streets, ready for the flood of enemy combatants.

"A few of the castle guards should be enough," Vera murmured. Going by the continuously updated reports on security allocations, no other places could be spared. "Just for a few hours."

She sent off the orders, letting the other groups know about the temporary change. Confirmations rang out, the situation got defused, and Vera returned to her slow mental collapse.

The room she was in had tinted windows only, little to no decorations, and the walls were thick enough to stop sound and projectiles alike.

Most forms of sound, at least.

An hour later, Vera was able to see the water-filled glass on the table shake, a ripple forming on the surface of the liquid. Messages came in rapidly, seconds later, a dozen of her people warning her about an explosion in one of the Royal Gardens.

No projectiles were spotted before the explosion.

"Not good," Vera muttered. That meant that either the spotters couldn't detect the projectiles, or there were none to begin with, meaning that they had been placed by hand. "Without a doubt, the latter."

Fade hadn't reported anything in yet. The new artifacts she'd been given meant that the relics used by the Castillan spies couldn't be completely effective, but Vera didn't want to discount the idea that they had gotten new upgrades as well.

No matter what, the Dreamweaver was sent the order to retrieve her brother and bring him to Vera. Louis had been hidden away in his own safe room for the past three days as well, and she had a bad feeling. Having him within her line of sight would maybe bring some form of comfort to her mind.

Two minutes passed. Three sips of her water, along with the feeling of her eyes getting more and more tired. Fade had replied back with a confirmation of the orders, and the remaining guards were on high alert, trying to find the possible culprit for the explosion.

Times like these would be easier if you were around to help, Elijah, but you just have to be busy with—

Three quick knocks on her door made her shoot up from her chair. The two slow knocks and the four quick ones after made her frown. One of the older emergency codes for her in-field agents. Vera still had it memorized, meaning it couldn't have been switched for a while, but it was still abnormal.

"Identification," Vera shouted, as she grabbed her set of wands and inserted them into her sleeve. She quietly cursed that his room didn't have the enchanted mirror that allowed her to see who stood outside in the hallway. Harper had promised they'd been working on finding more of those artifacts, but the underground markets had gone into a standstill in the past month. "I said identification."

"Crown Operative forty-seven, of the second squadron," a gruff voice replied. It had feminine undertones, but decades of smoking had damaged their vocal chords to a serious degree. "We got orders from Consort to bring the newest shipment."

Harper's newest codename, one that Vera had added just this morning. Even the loosest tongues shouldn't have allowed anybody to spill that name.

Still, Vera didn't like this. Harper wasn't available for the next hour, as she stalked possible leads, so Vera didn't have any chance to get secondary verification.

"Your Majesty?" the gruff voice said. "We can leave the shipment in front of the door, if you wish. Contents have been verified by the guards and mages at the entrance."

Gods, I'm being stupid.

"No. Leaving consumables out of sight is against protocol," Vera rejected. After checking through the table of artifacts that constantly scanned for possible magical disguises and any nearby illusions hadn't turned red, she opened up the door. A faintly familiar face stared back at her when she did. An older woman, looking to be around fifty and with the standard armor and insignia. She also had the old scars of an agent who'd worked for Vera for a long time. Going by the red line on the side of her throat and the way her shoulders were slightly misaligned, she might've been one of the injured during the attempted coup so many months ago. "Get in and put the case on the floor, please."

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"Of course, Your Majesty," the old agent said, taking careful steps inside while the multitude of bottles inside the case jostled around. A familiar sound, further making Vera not understand why the back of her mind was still suspicious. "Too heavy to walk with, this shit. Don't understand how that kid managed it."

Vera kept her distance from the older woman, her arms by her side but ready to move at any moment. Never did her eyes waver.

"Habits make you strong, I suppose," Vera replied, keeping her voice passive while the other woman made a small stretch. "I assume you have other duties to take care of?"

"That I do," the agent agreed, as she proceeded to step further into the room. The second she stepped towards the table, with red letters appearing on the countless pieces of paper, Vera's arm was raised, wand in hand, and ready to fire. "Really is something, all of this. Looks just like they promised, this Leximancy stuff."

"Get down on your knees right now, and— Dolor!"

A shift of color in the corner of Vera's eye made her spin around and send the red bolt towards another agent who'd appeared in the doorway, just as they began to charge towards her. She then turned to do the same to the first agent, the same word ready on her tongue, but a fist impacted her nose before she could get the syllables out.

"Enchanted relic. Exact type that they said you would have," the agent commented, laughing as a stomp to Vera's hand made her drop the wand. "And just for good measure."

Vera tried to get her other arm up to protect herself, but the boot hit her under her chin too fast to do anything about. She tried to mumble the words for the protection artifacts to take effect, but her mind was rattled, and her ability to form words seemed to fail. Were they even close enough to activate?

Damn it.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" the agent questioned with a sneer. "Up with you, Fred. We gotta work fast."

"Wha… Spies?" Vera slurred, fighting to get out another wand from her sleeve. The agents noticed immediately, giving a kick to her shoulder, stopping that immediately. "Do… Dol—"

Another kick to the head, this one making her black out for a solid five seconds. This should've been enough damage to her that one of the wards should've taken notice and alerted Harper, but Vera's love wasn't in range to do anything about it.

"You want to know if we're Castillan spies? Is that what you're trying to ask?" the woman questioned, cutting open Vera's sleeve and removing the hidden wands. "We're not. Just regular old agents beneath your rule. Agents who understand a little too much these days."

Vera said nothing, her eyes half-closed as she tried to find a way out of this situation. The other agent had brought out a cleaver. By how it was held, Vera knew it wasn't the first time the man had used one.

"Shit, did I get your tongue that bad?" the woman said, forcing Vera's mouth open. As a finger got inside, Vera bit down with as much force as she could. "No, you're working just fine. Good. It's gonna make this so much more enjoyable."

"What do you want?"

"For all of this to end," the other agent answered. He sounded angry, with the hand tightening around the handle of the cleaver. "You ready?"

"Just need to make something clear for her," the first agent said, extending the time Vera had to think. She had an emergency wand stashed in her left shoe, but getting to it wouldn't be easy. Vera had to wait for the right opportunity. "My family has served Serenova before it officially formed. My dad was one of your dad's agents. I was one too, before your friend recruited me. Nothing bad about that. I didn't mind the money.

"Stopped my son from doing it, though. Too dangerous for him. Kept him as a civilian. Safe and sound at home, with a normal job. Nothing too bloody. Can you guess what that led to?"

"Died to the firebombs?"

"Died to the firebombs," the agent confirmed with a manic grin. "A pointless death. He was a good kid. Never hurt anybody, and yet he had to be burned to death. The only way I recognized his body was by his teeth. He lost a front tooth last summer when he got drunk during a stag party. Easy to spot."

"I'm sor—"

Vera could only partially blame the worsening concussion for not seeing the fist coming. It hit right beside her left eye. Everything seemed to be bouncing around as she slumped down and put her knees to her stomach.

"Sorry won't cut it now, Your Majesty," the older woman informed her. "I helped write one of the recent reports, so I'm sure you know the deal Castilla has been informally offering the people.

"If we give them your head, the bloodshed ends. They'll take everything back with ease, and our lives will go on without any more death and destruction."

"I'm not sure they specified that my body can't come along as well," Vera pointed out, getting a quick laugh from the woman before another kick came Vera's way. It hurt as the boot hit her stomach, but she braced enough to not lose all the air in her lungs. "This won't bring your son back."

"That it won't," the woman agreed. "But it'll stop more mothers and fathers from burying their kids. Not a bad deal, if you ask me."

"Can't deny that, I suppose," Vera had to agree. Her eyes tracked the other agent, the large man, as he stepped forward and raised the cleaver. The instant that it went above his shoulder, the strike planned, she fished out the wand from her shoe and aimed it his way. "Tyr."

A green bolt reached the agent's chest. There was no grunt of pain, no kinetic kickback, or any other particular noises. The only effect was an instant death, the cleaver falling from the loosened grip while the body slumped down beside Vera.

Vera was fast, and the small wand was aimed at the woman in the same second.

"Tyr."

The agent lunged for her as she uttered the syllables. Strong hands pushed the wand up and to the side, making the bolt fly over the woman's shoulder.

"Fiesty," she remarked.

Vera spat blood at her. The woman's grin only grew as she wrestled the wand out of Vera's grasp and got a jab at Vera's throat. Nothing broke, but the hit still stopped any air from getting through.

"Feeling a little pain?" the agent asked, one arm enough to hold Vera in check while the other grabbed at the cleaver. Vera's fighting only increased, legs trying and failing to get into position, but this wasn't the agent's first time like this. "You're lucky I'm strapped for time, or I'd spend more time enjoying this. You deserve so much more, you sad excuse for an—"

Fire.

In a flash, a severe heat covered Vera's skin, just on the edge of being painful. Flames filled her vision, red and orange in color, and she could hear the crackling and screaming of the gruff voice from the woman.

Even with her eyes drying up, she looked up. Above her was the head of a dragon made of flames, staring back at her. It looked familiar.

"Stay away from my sister."

Louis.

The temperature increased twofold for a second before the dragon vanished through the now-melted wall. With a small tether only visible through her magical senses, she could see it connected to a ring worn by her younger brother, with the brother in question looking both baffled and furious.

"You alright?" Louis asked, as Fade slipped past him and over to Vera.

"I'll live," she replied stiffly, feeling her upper lip starting to swell. "Didn't know the ring would work with you."

"Neither did I," Louis admitted. He looked tired, but Fade agreeing with Vera's assessment caused a smile to appear on his face. "I had to try, though. No way am I letting you die. I'd have to take the throne if that happened."

"Happy to know you have your priorities straight…" Vera muttered, tilting her head as she looked through the half-melted wall. Up in the sky, the signature dragon of fire, the one that had made her mother a legend, flew around, sending out bursts of fire towards the distant enemies. "If anybody asks, would you mind saying I did that? Not to steal credit from you, but it would help if people think I work with fire."

Nobody was supposed to know what those papers meant. How the agent had heard of her Affinity made Vera's mind spin around in confusion.

"You just can't stop working for a single second, can you?"

"Guess not."

Maybe her brother really did know what was important in life.


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