Sworded Affair

Chapter 122: Wood

Emma took to the skies once the convoy (now down to two trucks) started moving again, hovering above them and focusing her attention on potential threats from the sky. While the demons that appeared thus far had died fairly easily, ambush notwithstanding, Emma didn't believe for one second that that would remain the case. Her quest and prior intelligence alike indicated the presence of greater demons, none of which had shown themselves yet; it was the whole reason she was present after all.

That said, they were certainly taking their time; the convoy completed a fourth and fifth circuit without encountering any further resistance. By the time the sixth revolution began, Emma was forced to descend for a rest on the truck; the wren was still young, and her wings were tired, unused to sustained flight at high altitude. Predictably, that was when the next wave arrived to cause some trouble.

"Incoming!"

[Wren (Level 0) stored.]

Emma emerged in full armour as dots appeared at the edge of her map; still too far away to lay eyes on the enemy. They didn't seem to have the same issue; judging by the boulders flying towards them in a primitive but nonetheless deadly barrage. Although, given none of them came close to the convoy, even as it slowed to turn towards the source of fire, they might simply be firing blindly for all Emma knew.

"Change of plans."

Sir Bearington appeared below Emma, cushioning her fall as she transitioned from flying to riding, her mount receiving orders to sprint straight ahead at full speed. Meanwhile, she reached for the System and locked in an option from some time ago.

[Lighter (Half-full) withdrawn.

Level Up, Level 13 selection locked in!

Black Candle: When lit, this consumes all nearby light, leaving impenetrable darkness.]

Strictly speaking, Emma wasn't too worried for herself, but the likelihood of human forces on the other side made things a lot more dangerous for the convoy; enough for her to invest in a smokescreen. Putting her pilfered lighter to good use, she lit the thin taper atop the candle, and the light died. Emma was no stranger to the night sky, even before the apocalypse; she'd gone camping often enough, setting up tents in quiet woodlands away from the ever-present light pollution of the cities and even the suburbs. Most nights were like that now; the stars were actually visible so long as the sky was clear.

This was not merely nighttime; this was absolute darkness, so black it drowned the senses entirely. Emma pressed a palm to her visor, hard enough to be felt through her muted sense of pain; even this close, she couldn't see a hint of the hand she knew to be there. Unfortunately, this meant she had no sense of how far the cover extended either; hopefully, it was wide enough to provide meaningful cover for the trucks as they followed her. The only saving grace was that her minimap still worked, providing helpful signposts to run towards; without those, Emma genuinely feared getting turned around and running into her own convoy.

Onward Sir Bearington ran, through darkness punctuated by sporadic bursts of gunfire and the occasional thud as a boulder landed nearby. Already, the red dots were getting closer, and the first name tags were coming into view.

[Elderwood Demon - Level 15]

The Greater Demons finally came out to play, Emma thought, picturing a larger and meaner version of the corrupted trees she'd fought outside the old family home. There were five of them in total, surrounded by masses of lesser demons along with some very unwelcome company.

[Deadwood Demon - Level 5]

[Goetian Enforcer - Level 10 Warlock]

Not demons then, but the summoners, Emma realised, recalling her lessons from Princess Astaroth. These aren't just generic enemies coming out of excess mana, this was planned.

The dots were growing ever thicker, and the front row nearly upon her. Deeming herself too close to get hit by boulders given the flight arc required, Emma smothered the candle flame between her fingers, and then there was light.

As it turned out, the Elderwood Demons were pretty similar to her imagination, with the difference being a grotesquely disproportional right arm; several times larger than the left and nearly half the size of the torso. As she watched, one pulled a clump of soil from the ground, packed it together with a single squeeze, and let loose with a mighty overhand throw. Around them, smaller trees circled the wagons, whilst hiding in their midst were a bare handful of men wearing deep purple robes and cowls hiding any and all identifying features. They looked like stereotype fantasy cultists, which only made the M4 Carbines they carried look even further out of place.

[The House of Amdusias? Curious, I haven't offended them in years.]

Rapid-fire popping filled Emma's ears as the M2s finally opened fire, targeting the nearest Elderwood Demon. Before her eyes, the brown wood comprising its body cracked, red lines running through the gaps as they turned grey. After five seconds of focused fire failed to leave a scratch, the heavy machine guns turned to the smaller targets in surrender.

[Active countermeasures. That's not a natural ability of demons at this level, they're being enhanced.]

"Kill the warlocks first, got it," Emma murmured, ordering Sir Bearington to disappear.

"Antipode, you're up."