Henrik Saetre
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Riftside 2 - Chapter 63
🕑 Added 2025-05-28 21:45:10 +0000 UTCI stood on the main street, the Adventuring Guild at my back. The Royal Bank sat behind Veyron, closed like a Steel Scuttler withdrawn in its shell.
I spun Roq in my hand.
The nearby townsfolk and adventurers had gathered around us at the promise of a duel between adventurers. It wasn’t something you could see every day, especially in a place like Dawnwatch. I spotted Martha the seamstress, and a group of workers from Borin’s brewery, reeking of ale, quarreling for a better view alongside a clutch of lumberjacks.
“Quiet! As the acting neutral third party,” Jordan announced as she used the butt of her spear to etch a wide circle in the street, “I’m drawing the circle at three times the size of a rift, as is tradition for two melee combatants.”
Veyron stripped off his armor, leaving him in just his britches. He began to limber up, his twin shortswords a blur when he swung them in tight, fast cuts as if to prove a point. His speed rivalled Rowan’s when he had let loose against the Crystalkin, so I had to give it to the man, he was no slouch.
“I can’t wait to feel my blades take your life,” Veyron sneered. “When you’re bleeding on the ground, on the edge of death, you’ll confess to killing my brother. When you do, I might even spare you. And if your father agrees to work the smithy, I’ll turn you over to the Crown for judgment. They’re looking for murderous adventurers like you to make examples of. Then, once he’s working for us, getting used to the yoke we’ll put around his neck, that’s when I’ll bring you your mother’s hands and hang them around your neck, and start cutting pieces of you to send back to them, one by one, and—”
“Shut up and get ready,” I said, my voice flat as I strode into the circle. “Don’t say I took you by surprise.”
“You’ll like this, you know,” Roq purred in my mind. “It’s going to feel good, making him eat those words. Open with Hammer to the Face! I want to see what’s wrong with his brain.”
No. He doesn’t deserve a swift end. We’re using Ironburst.
“Instant kill?” Roq asked, a hint of disappointment in his tone.
No. I’m going to make anyone who ever hears of this duel think twice about threatening my family again.
“Good,” Roq said. “Erh… how?”
Blood.
“Really?” Roq sounded almost gleeful.
Yeah.
“Finally!”
Veyron, oblivious to my internal conversation, continued his vile taunts, flexing his muscles, and slashing his blades through the air.
“In the end, I’ll slit your throat and make your mother cry over your corpse, unable to hold you even in death!”
The door to the Adventuring Guild opened and Madeleine came walking out. “What in the rotten rift’s going on?”
“Veyron challenged Ash to a duel. To the death. Ash accepted,” Nabeeh said.
Madeleine’s gasped, and I heard the heavy door of the Adventuring Guild slam shut behind her.
She was likely going for Harold. Time to start.
I pulled on my Bonebound Vigil helmet. The world took on the familiar slight pink tint of its visor, and I was ready.
“Start it,” I told Jordan.
She raised her hand. “Still your bells! Now, Veyron, of his second breakthrough, has challenged Ash Aldrich, of his first breakthrough, to a duel, and invoked the frontier clause. Veyron offered to fight in britches only—”
“With my swords,” Veyron interjected, his eyes fixed on me.
“—with his two swords,” Jordan amended, “Against Ash wearing any and all gear he has. Ash has accepted. Is that correct?”
“That’s correct,” I said, rolling my shoulders.
“Yeah,” Veyron snarled. “Now get on with it.”
“Fight to the death, or accept surrender,” Jordan declared, a clear hint of excitement to her voice. “Step outside the ring and your life is forfeit. You both give up your right to revenge as soon as the duel starts, and this goes for your family and employers as well. Is that agreed and understood?”
“Yes,” I affirmed.
“Yeah,” he said.
“None may interfere,” Jordan stated, her gaze sweeping the crowd. “And may the bells protect the righteous one.”
“Count us down,” Veyron demanded, his shortswords glinting.
“Fight true, brother,” Knut’s voice rumbled from the edge of the circle. “Show folly of noble bootlicker.”
Jordan raised her hand.
“Three!”
“Fight true,” Arclight said. They hadn’t arrived yet, but I could already feel them drawing closer. This had to be over quickly before anyone could intercede.
“Two!”
I began to gather my mana, the familiar thrum of power building within me for Ironburst, but I didn’t cast it yet. Having seen his speed and how Rowan fought, I focused on a different skill. One Veyron wouldn’t know of, nor expect in a warrior.
Forge Anchor.
“Blood for me!”
Veyron leaned forward, ready like a coiled viper.
“One!” Jordan’s voice was sharp and clear.
I raised Roq.
“Fight!”
I slammed Roq down onto the hard-packed earth and unleashed Forge Anchor just as Veyron surged towards me, having cast Charge.
Steelhusk roots erupted from the ground ahead of him to tangle his legs, and he stumbled, his charge broken, drawing up just short of me.
Even rooted, he lunged, stabbing for my heart. I blocked with my shield, but the impact was jarring, the force sending me staggering back towards the edge of the ring.
I caught myself just in time and regained my balance.
“Violence! Power! DEATH!” Roq screamed, his bloodlust boiling over into something I hadn’t felt from him so far.
“Die!” Veyron said, stopped from advancing by the roots sticking out of the ground and holding him in place. He threw one of his short swords at my face, but I ducked and unleashed Ironburst.
I willed the fifteen steelhusk spears to strike precisely, not for a quick kill, but for a lesson.
A pair of spears erupted from the ground just behind Veyron, buckling his knees. He collapsed forward, pulled down by Roq’s roots, meeting two rows of three spears each that stuck out from the earth in front of him, digging into his stomach and chest, just deep enough to draw blood, but not enough to end him.
Two spears for each arm, one through the hand, one through the forearm, pierced straight through his naked skin, and his second sword dropped from a limp hand. I knew Roq would approve of the final three spears. One thrust up from the front, nicking the underside of his chin, another from behind, barely grazing the nape of his neck, and the last, a vicious spike that impaled his groin.
Veyron’s scream was a raw, animal sound of pure agony. The crowd groaned, a collective wince at the brutal destruction of someone many levels higher than his opponent.
His three companions moved to interfere, their faces contorted in alarm.
“Veyron!” the tank shouted.
“Stay back!” Jordan snapped, and Knut drew his mace. “Interfere, and your lives are forfeit!” she warned.
Nabeeh held up her staff, and the Domitius adventurers froze. If any of them interfered for whatever reason, they’d be marked for death by the guild.
I stored my shield and took off my helmet, my eyes fixed on the writhing, impaled figure of Veyron.
“Nobody threatens my family and walks away,” I said, my voice cold. “You wanted to see me begging? Too late for that.”
I brought Roq down in a crushing blow on Veyron’s right shoulder, and he barely avoided impaling himself on the spear behind his neck.
His scream was high-pitched, a thin sound that made him sound even weaker than he currently looked, and the crowd winced.
“Mercy!” he shrieked, his eyes wide with terror and pain. “I surrender!”
“Don’t listen!” Roq said. “Finish him!”
“At the frontier,” I said, raising Roq, “We have no mercy for monsters.”
I held the hammer up above me for three long seconds as our eyes met, and I could see genuine fear in them. No forgiveness. No second chances.
I brought Roq down on Veyron’s skull and smashed it in like a watermelon.
A wave of heat washed over me as he went limp, a familiar surge but far more potent than any I’d felt before. It wasn’t just a trickle of power; it was a torrent, flooding my senses, sharpening the world around me even as Veyron’s body slumped to the ground. My knees buckled and I nearly fell as my mind swam, overwhelmed from all the power.
I’d levelled.
“Glorious slaughter! Did you feel how his skull cracked and snapped? The gush of power? You levelled, twice! We need more! I want more!” Roq said. “Oh, this is the life! We should do this more often! Find more arrogant fools and CRACK THEM OPEN!”
The crowd fell into a stunned silence. Martha the seamstress stood with her hands clapped over her mouth, her eyes wide with terror. The lumberjacks, usually so boisterous, were pale and still. This hadn’t been a heroic spectacle like they’d likely imagined. This was an execution, and one like they’d never seen before.
“What is going on?” a shrill voice shrieked over the din of the onlookers.
It was Serona. She pushed through the onlookers and emerged at the edge of the dueling circle. Her face contorted and rage fell over her. Our eyes met, and I couldn’t help but smile.
Her wand appeared in an instant.
“Watch out!” Roq cried a warning in my mind.
Serona flicked her wand in my direction and my Woodwoven Mantle reacted instantly, wrapping around me like a cocoon. A force slammed into me, lifting me up and hurling me through the air. I crashed into what could only be the steel husk-reinforced wall of the Adventuring Guild. The landing drove the air from my lungs and my head rang like a bell inside the helmet. The cloak unwrapped, its protection expended for that single blow.
“Stop, Serona!” Jordan said, her voice sharp with outrage. “What are you doing?”
“He’s a murderer!” Serona yelled, pointing her wand at me.
“This was a sanctioned duel!” Jordan said, slamming the butt of her spear into the ground for effect. “Witnessed and ruled! There is to be no revenge for its outcome.”
Pain lanced through my back and shoulder as I attempted to stand, and I chuckled.
“Bet she didn’t see this coming.”
“She knows she’s next,” Roq said. “Please make it so! You’ll hit the next breakthrough then!”
Serona’s expression was a delicious mask of fury, and she spat a curse as her eyes darted around, taking in Jordan, the terrified witnesses, the body of Veyron, and then the rest of her party.
Then, as if a switch had been flipped, her face went utterly blank, devoid of all emotion, and I got a sinking feeling in my stomach. This was far more terrifying than her anger had been.
With a chilling calm, she turned her wand on Jordan. Another flicker of her wrist, and a razor-thin line of wind shot forth to sever the tip of Jordan’s spear before bisecting the adventurer’s head. She collapsed without a sound, a grotesque fountain of red spraying onto the dusty street.
“No!” Nabeeh screamed, but to her credit, the outrage didn’t freeze her in place. She raised her staff and cast a massive Fireball towards Serona.
Benedict, who I hadn’t even registered among Serona’s retinue until that moment, raised his hand and cast a cone of cold. It intercepted Nabeeh’s Fireball mid-air, steam rising as the Fireball exploded and was snuffed out. But the icy blast wasn’t entirely contained and it sprayed into the crowd on the other side. Screams of pain erupted as witnesses were struck, their skin smoking with frostbite.
Panic took hold, and the crowd began to break, people were scrambling to flee and all I could think of was ‘how many more will she kill if we don’t stop her right there’.
Knut, who still held the archer by the shoulder, punched the man in the side of the head with his mace hand, knocking him out cold. Serona, unfazed by the chaos, raised her wand again. A deafening roar ripped through the air, a sound I remembered from the battlements of Sentinel Station where she’d used it to defeat the Hive Mind’s aerial attack.
Wind Shear.
The arc of wind sliced through the fleeing crowd. Martha the seamstress was cut in two. Several of Borin’s brewery workers and a clutch of lumberjacks met the same fate, their bodies falling in gruesome heaps. Others were maimed, screaming in pain and terror.
“Get her, Ash!” Roq said, but I didn’t have enough mana for a Hammer to the Face, while both Ironburst and Forge Anchor were on cooldown. No abilities with range.
“Immolation!” Nabeeh shrieked, staff pointed at Serona. The wind mage shrieked and stumbled as flames erupted from within her. The skin on her face and arms cracked, blisters formed as if she was being burned alive, but the Benedict was there again, using his power to stop the immolation.The street turned to chaos, with the few remaining people who’d been present screaming as they fled for their lives.
I stumbled towards her, finding my feet again.
Knut bellowed, and it had to be his new taunt ability, because Benedict, Serona, and the other two House Domitius warriors all rushed the massive Northerner. Knut got his shield on in time to block the two warriors’ initial attacks.
“The mages are distracted! Kill them, now!” Roq urged.
But just then, the House Domitius warrior I’d seen leading the group outside our house, the one with the greatsword as tall as himself, came running up the street and leapt high in the air to slam down next to Knut and the warriors. The ground buckled, and a shockwave of force erupted from the impact, stunning Knut, Serona, Benedict, and the two warriors attacking Knut.
“Stop this insanity!”
