Loveless Incantation: Chapter 17
Imported from SF2 with no description.
Bane stood in the darkness atop a roof, peering down at the faint glow of a waterskin below. This part of town was notorious for being an open haven for gangs and assassins to conduct their business. He was familiar with the area, but he came for more than just money. He knelt down and pressed his ear against the roof to listen. The murmurs from inside became clear.
"We might be able to buy our way into another clan with this type of money!" one weasel proclaimed excitedly.
"Unlikely, but at least we'll never have to worry about money again," another mused, his tone tinged with a cold practicality.
A mocking laugh echoed from a third. "What was that silver fur doing with such a precious item, anyway?"
"It doesn't matter," replied a fourth, his tone dismissive. "Killing a few kits was a small price to pay for living like kings."
Bane heard every word and each one added fuel to the burning rage within him. As much as he hated to admit it, he wasn't any different from them. He had killed many without a second thought, regardless of their motives or whether they were simply trying to protect their families. To him, they were nothing more than objectives to complete, a means of obtaining enough money to feed the kits.
He's not a hero, so he doesn't care about what others want in life, as they are merely objects to him. As he falls into the shadows, Bane emerges in the room. His cold and relentless eyes quickly scan the area, assessing the situation - nine weasels, whose paws are still stained with the blood of his family. Without making a single noise, he swiftly captures one of the weasels, pressing his dagger to its throat.
"Quite a nice haul you've got here," he announced.
The weasels spun around, startled, their eyes widening at the sight of their comrade held hostage.
"Who are you?" A weasel who sat upon a throne of stolen goods asks.
"It doesn't matter who I am, only why I'm here," Bane replied, his voice a deathly calm.
Without a moment's hesitation, he thrust his dagger upwards, the blade piercing the soft flesh under the weasel's jaw, sliding up to lodge with a sickening crunch at the top of the muzzle. The weasel's muffled screams filled the room, a harrowing, guttural sound that spoke of unspeakable pain as he realized any attempt to open his jaw would only result in tearing flesh and splintering bone.
Bane looked around the room, meeting the eyes of each weasel. It was obvious this was a personal feud, not just an ordinary gang conflict. His gaze then returned to the presumed leader.
"You took what's mine, and now I'm here to return the favor," Bane declared, his words cutting through the tension like a knife. He yanked the blade from his hostage's jaw, then wrapped his left paw firmly around it, ensuring the weasel's agonized screams remained but a whisper. "But unlike you, I offer a choice. Surrender now and meet a painless end. Defy me, and your screams will become another legend in my long history of bloodshed."
The younger weasels were shaking, their bodies trembling uncontrollably, a mix of fear and realization dawning upon them. In stark contrast, a few of the older ones stood defiant, unshaken, as their leader locked eyes with Bane, a silent challenge in his gaze.
"I'll have to decline," he said, his voice steady.
Bane's response was a display of lethal artistry. With no hesitation, he slid his dagger through the throat of his hostage, decapitating him with grotesque ease. The body slumped to the floor in a heap, lifeless and still, as Bane continued to grip the severed head by its muzzle. Tossing the macabre trophy towards the trembling youngsters, he watched as some passed out from sheer terror while the older ones, driven by survival or perhaps foolish bravery, drew their weapons.
"Since it's too late to turn back now, I might as well introduce myself," Bane announced, his voice resonating with a cold, unforgiving authority. "I am Bane, General of the Demon Queen's army. The silver fur and kits you killed were my family; now, I am here. Take whatever moment you have to pray because you will not be shown any mercy in this life."
The leader, his bravado crumbling, tried to put up a front. "You think you scare us?" he blustered, his voice betraying a hint of desperation. "We're not afraid to die!"
"Fear isn't required for death to come," Bane responded, his gaze still cold and lifeless since this all went down.
The first strike was a stealthy arrow, slicing through the darkness towards him. Bane's dagger flicked out with supernatural ease, redirecting the arrow into the wooden beam above, its shaft quivering from the impact. The leader, capitalizing on the momentary distraction, charged at Bane, his sword raised high. Bane, moving with the grace and lethality of a shadow, parried the strike with his dagger, the clash of metal echoing through the chamber. Faster than the leader could react, Bane slid his dagger up his armpit, sending jolts of pain through his arm, rendering it useless but still attached.
As the leader recoiled, two more weasels, seizing the moment, lunged at Bane from either side. In that split second, Bane's hand darted to his belt, drawing his second dagger with a fluid motion that spoke of countless battles. His movements became a blur, a dance of steel and shadows. He spun, his first dagger parrying a strike from the left while his newly drawn blade deflected an attack from the right. The weasels' blades never reached him, their attacks interrupted by his masterful defense.
Bane then went on the offensive, his twin daggers moving in perfect harmony. One dagger thrust forward, forcing the weasel on his left to stumble back, while the other dagger swept in a low arc, cutting across the thigh of the weasel on his right. The weasel on his left, reeling from the forced retreat, tried to regain his footing and attack again. But Bane was already upon him, his dagger flashing in a rapid upward strike. The blade grazed the weasel's side.
Meanwhile, the weasel on the right, grappling with the pain of the gash on his thigh, lunged forward in a desperate attempt to land a blow. Bane, anticipating the move, sidestepped with fluid grace. His left dagger came down in a swift, controlled arc, striking the weasel's wrist. With a wet thump, his hand fell to the floor as he staggered back, his face contorted in pain and disbelief. Bane turned to face the remaining assailants, his eyes alight with a cold, unyielding determination.
The fourth weasel, having observed the swift incapacitation of his comrades, hesitated for a split second, uncertainty flashing in his eyes. Seizing the moment of doubt, Bane advanced. He moved like a specter, his steps silent yet deadly. As the weasel swung his blade in a wide, desperate arc, Bane ducked under the swipe, closing the distance between them. In one fluid motion, he delivered a sharp strike with the pommel of his dagger to the weasel's temple, Sending the weasel crumpling to the ground, unconscious but still breathing.
As Bane straightened up, another arrow whistled through the air, aimed at his back. With a twist of his torso, he avoided the projectile, letting it embed itself in the wall behind him. He traced the trajectory to its source without pausing – a hidden alcove in the chamber. With a predator's speed, he lunged towards the alcove, daggers ready. The archer fumbled with his weapon in a frantic attempt to reload. But Bane was upon him before he could notch another bolt. Bane's hand shot out, grabbing the weasel's wrist and twisting it sharply.
Snapping bones echoed in the chamber as the weasel's arm broke. A sharp cry of agony escaped the archer's lips, his face contorted in excruciating pain. Bane, his expression unchanging, delivered a powerful kick to the weasel's chest. The force of the impact sent the archer hurtling backward, crashing into the wall with a thud before sliding down into a crumpled heap on the floor.
All had become silent as Bane leveled his gaze on the leader, his arm hanging limply by his side. The disparity in their skills was palpable, and the leader, recognizing the futility of resistance, fell to his knees, tears streaking down his face. The life he had envisioned for himself, escaping the confines of his dire circumstances with the fortune he'd amassed, seemed to crumble before his eyes.
As Bane advanced, each step resonated through the stillness, marking the leader's descent into despair. Only when he summoned the courage to meet Bane's gaze did he see a void where empathy should reside, a chilling detachment unlike anything he had ever encountered.
"I'm sorry," the leader managed, his voice a mere whisper against the gravity of his realization.
"No, you aren't," Bane retorted, his tone devoid of emotion. "Not yet."
With a grace that belied the grim act to follow, Bane set aside his weapons and cupped the weasel's face tenderly with both hands. Their eyes locked in a brief yet eternal moment—a silent exchange in the precipice of finality. Then, with a deliberate slowness, Bane pressed his fingers into the leader's eyes. Despite the leader's frantic struggles and the air tearing with his screams, he kept pushing in the hopes it would make him feel better.
But he'll only know once they've all been dealt with.
Bane emerges from the inky darkness, his coat stained with blood, his gaze softening from the hardened glare of a killer to a childlike vulnerability. He gazes at the ritualistic circle I've prepared, the lifeless bodies positioned with solemn care, each accompanied by a flickering candle.
"What are you doing?" he asks, sheathing his daggers, now stained with the aftermath of battle.
"Preparing," I reply, my hands finishing the intricate design on the floor, a mix of the victims' blood and my own.
"For what?"
Ignoring his question, I methodically remove my armor and weapons, setting them aside with deliberate care. Now dressed only in my street clothes, I step into the center of the circle, scrutinizing every detail to ensure perfection.
"What Shadow does is rather simple when you think about it." I begin, my voice steady. "He animates lifeless shells with his mana, making them his puppets." I pause, letting the gravity of my words sink in. "But they're just husks. The soul, the power of who they were, is long gone."
"Soul?" Bane echoes, confusion etching his features.
"The soul isn't the entirety of a person," I explain, sitting comfortably at the circle's heart. "It's more like fuel for the flame of life. As you grow older, the flame dwindles until it flickers out. But it can also be snuffed out. There are a lot of strange rules with soul magic, but know it takes a special type of material strong enough to withstand this ritual." I draw a deep breath, bracing myself. "I don't have much left, but I'm about to reignite that flame with the only material I know of "The soul of a Hero". Meeting Bane's gaze, I see realization dawning in his eyes, but it's too late. "See you in hell," I murmur, pressing my palm against my chest. "Resurrection."
In an instant, the world shifts. A crushing pressure envelops all of demonkind. Those with lesser mana are pinned helplessly to the ground while even the mighty struggle to draw breath. Within the Demon Queen's castle, the generals move with difficulty, their bones rattling in the oppressive atmosphere. Only Lilith, amidst the chaos, hears a distant harrowing scream. And as abruptly as it began, the sensation vanished.
Reeling from the overwhelming force of the ritual, Bane's vision clears just enough for him to focus on Daisy. She is unsteadily swaying, her hands clasped to her head as if to quell a dizzy spell. A rush of emotions overpowers Bane, propelling him forward. He sweeps past Alex, focusing solely on Daisy, and wraps her in an emotional embrace.
"B-Bane?" Daisy's voice is laced with surprise and a tinge of concern. "What's wrong? Did you have another nightmare?"
Bane's response is a laugh but edged with a raw, emotional undercurrent. Tears escape from his eyes, a testament to the profound relief and joy coursing through him.
"What are you talking about?" he says, his voice thick with emotion. "I just missed you."
"You brought company too?" Daisy's voice, filled with genuine surprise, drifts to the still figure of Alex.
At her words, a shadow falls over Bane's moment of joy. He turns slowly to face Alex, his heart sinking as he confronts the grim reality before him. Alex's chest remains still, untouched by the rhythm of breath.
"No..." Bane mutters, a blend of disbelief and denial in his hushed tone as he rushes over. "No? No!" He shouts as he seizes Alex by the collar, pulling him up to meet his gaze. His eyes, flush with a whirlwind of emotions, stare into Alex's lifeless ones. "This isn't what I wanted! I was the one who was supposed to kill you! Do you hear me?!" he demands, though Alex offers no response, his stillness amplifying Bane's sense of betrayal.
A raw, visceral scream rips from Bane's throat, a primal and unrestrained outpouring of his inner conflict. He slams his head against Alex's chest, a gesture as much an expression of frustration as a search for some sign of life, some trickery. "This doesn't make sense? This has to be part of his plan. What am I missing?!" Bane's voice is tinged with desperation, seeking answers in a situation that defies his understanding.
As Bane is at his breaking point, Daisy's paw gently rests on his shoulder, a silent anchor in the storm of his emotions. Her eyes, wavering with concern and determination, meet his. At this moment, she's the pillar of strength Bane needs. Daisy observed a side of Bane that's unfamiliar, a raw vulnerability she only saw on the day he took his first life. It's a stark contrast to the composed facade he usually maintains.
She understands the importance of this moment more than Bane might. This unguarded display, this depth of feeling he's showing, is a crucial part of him that must be preserved. Daisy fears the consequences if this part of him is lost. Without it, she worries that only the hardened, unfeeling mask he's worn for so long – the mask of a ruthless killer – will remain.
"Hurry, save your friend," she urges.
Friend? The word jolts Bane, causing him to look up at Alex's lifeless form. They're not friends, they're enemies. All of his conflicting emotions solidify at one single thought. He's not going to let anyone kill his enemy. With one final, meaningful look towards Daisy, an unspoken promise hangs in the air.
"I'll explain everything when I come back," he asserts.
Without pause, Bane drags Alex into the shadows to the only place that makes sense... To the human world.
There was an eerie silence in the throne room, everyone standing in wait, their eyes betraying a shared uncertainty. None could articulate the odd sensation they had just experienced, but one thing was clear: neither the Hero nor Bane were present. Azure, her fingers rhythmically tapping against the armrest, exuded an air of forced patience. After casting a subtle, probing spell, she confirmed the absence of both Bane and the Hero's presence, deepening the room's mystery.
"Something isn't right," Princess murmured, her paw instinctively resting on her chest, her eyes reflecting an inner turmoil. "I can feel it."
Azure sighed, the rhythm of her fingers breaking as she massaged her temples. "This is some twisted part of the Hero's game. He always had a flair for the dramatic."
"But why?" Lacey chimed in, her voice laced with concern. "We cannot rule out a possible external cause."
"Where is Bane?" Azure's gaze swept over the assembled, seeking any clue. "Anyone?" The collective shaking of heads only fueled her annoyance. "I'm sure the Hero will return with what's happened. There's no point in standing here wondering."
With that, Azure rose from her throne, her cloak billowing as she strode towards her chambers. The others remained, their silence heavy. They knew tracking the Hero would be futile if he wished to stay hidden. Yet, a nagging feeling claws at them. A huge play was made, yet they could only grasp a small fraction of it.
Bane exits the shadows, guiding Alex's still form into the church, where echoes of their past battles linger. The darkness of the human world seems to hold its breath around them. Bane pauses, his gaze lingering on Alex quietly before he composes himself.
"The Demon Queen can't find out," Bane whispers, the gravity of his words barely disturbing the silence. "His party is his last hope." Closing his eyes, he recalls details and faces. "No one knows them as he did, but I've been watching, learning. Where they live, how they act, and who's the most trustworthy."
Opening his eyes, Bane's gaze meets Alex's still form. "You didn't die expecting it was the end... Even if you did, I can't let you take it easy yet. You haven't earned it." Smiling, Bane slaps the Hero on the cheek. "Took you to be dead before I could land a hit, but I'm still pretty proud of myself. Wait here, I won't be long."
With his destination in mind, Bane merges with the enveloping darkness, ready to start the most challenging part of his mission.
Jessy is poring over reports of recent changes in the kingdom and findings on the remnants of the coup. She exhales deeply, the weight of her responsibilities momentarily eased by thoughts of Alex and the cloak he gave her on that fateful day. This connection keeps her anchored and committed to making a difference.
Life, however, is rarely straightforward. A disturbance from the shadows catches her attention. It's not sneaky or subtle; it's deliberate. A figure lands softly behind her, its presence unmistakable. A demon and her instincts scream it's Bane, the general. No one but him could enter without notice, but his open approach was unnerving. Why isn't he hiding? What's going on? Could the demons be on the move? Is Alex locked in a battle with the Demon Queen at this very moment?
"Do you care about the Hero?" Bane's question slices through the room's tension. Jessy's hand instinctively moves towards her wand, only to be stopped by a dagger thudding into the desk beside her, a silent but clear message. "Answer the question. Don't make this difficult."
This is a scenario Jessy never wanted to face: alone, effectively unarmed, and at a disadvantage. As a spirit user, she knows her skills are less effective against an assassin, let alone a general like Bane. This encounter, she realizes, is no accident – it's a calculated move, likely because Bane knows the others would act first and question later.
"I'd die for him," she says firmly, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
"So, you'd do anything for him?"
"Isn't dying enough?" Jessy counters, her frustration evident.
"Would you listen to me if it meant saving him?"
Jessy's mind is a whirlwind of emotions and questions. Why is Bane asking this? Is Alex in danger? Why would a demon want to save Alex? Why isn't she dead yet?
"What are you plotting?" she demands, her eyes narrowing but never turning to face him.
"Answer," Bane insists, his tone laced with a hint of impatience.
"I'd die for him," Jessy repeats, her determination clear.
A tense silence follows before Bane speaks. "Good enough. Come with me, bring your wand. If you attack me, I promise you'll regret it."
Jessy looks at the dagger as it sinks into its own shadow on her desk. Cautiously, she grabs her wand before standing up from her chair and faces the general. Expecting Bane's towering presence, she's taken aback not to find him there.
"Down here." She looks down to see Bane, surprisingly small in stature, starkly contrasting the fearsome tales she's heard about him. Is it normal for demons to differ in size so drastically? "Don't move. We're about to teleport."
"What do you-"
But before she can complete her thought, darkness envelops her, and she's swept away into the shadows with Bane.
Jessy opens her eyes to near-total darkness, with only a few stray moonbeams offering scant visibility. Quickly, she casts a spell to illuminate her surroundings, revealing the decrepit interior of an abandoned building. But it's not the setting that captures her attention—it's Bane and, more shockingly, Alex. He's lying on the cold ground, utterly still. Jessy rushes to his side without hesitation, falling to her knees as she desperately touches his face.
"Alex?!" she calls out, shaking him, but he doesn't stir. The unsettling coldness of his skin sends a jolt through her—it's the undeniable sign of death. She turns her tear-filled eyes to Bane, only to be met with an expression she never expected from him: sadness. "What happened?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Bane replies, his words laden with regret and resignation.
"Tell me!" Jessy's voice cracks under the weight of her tears, her demand carrying a mix of desperation and grief. "You owe me that much."
Bane, witnessing the depth of her anguish, realizes the gravity of the situation. This isn't just about the loss of a hero; it's deeply personal for Jessy, and it all but confirms that Bane made the right choice. There may be a possibility of bringing Alex back, but first, he needs to share the truth with her.
"The Hero... Alex... He's been doing a lot of good in our realm. Helping with food, water, all of the things you humans have that we desperately fight for. I don't know why, but he's done all this expecting nothing in return." Bane looks to the floor. "His death was unexpected. He was going to help my family, but we found them slaughtered. The waterskin Alex gave them, taken." Bane grits his teeth before locking his eyes on Jessy. "They were dealt with, but Alex had set up a ritual when I returned. He spoke of things I didn't understand. Souls and how they work. Before I knew it, he was dead and my family was alive."
"Why didn't you hand him over to the Demon Queen?"
Bane opens his mouth to respond but closes it briefly to think over his words. She has every right to be suspicious. Even now, Bane is worried that Azure will figure out what has happened, and the best-case scenario is that he will be the only one to suffer for it.
"I know I'm a monster; that's why I don't keep mirrors around to see my reflection." Bane sighs. "But even so, to betray Alex after what he did for me... I can't even imagine a creature like that."
Hearing this from an enemy is tough for Jessy to swallow, but on the other hand, it's too genuine to ignore. Nothing about it sounded fake. Just thinking about it causes her anger to fade as a hopeless smile crosses her lips.
"Many years ago, Alex came to my shack and saved me from a life I believed to be my ultimate fate. Since then, I've seen the lengths he's willing to go whenever he sees someone suffering." She locks eyes with Bane. "Even though I don't understand it, you demons are no exception. That's how kind-hearted he is. Even so." She clears her eyes. "He still owes me a drink."
Bane cocks his head. "What does that mean?"
"Simple-" Before she can continue, her gaze instantly shifts as her jaw falls open and closed in shock.
Bane looks over his shoulder and flinches as he finds a ghostly version of Alex standing before them, his gaze locked onto Jessy with a smile.
"Sorry you have to see me like this, Jessy." But just as Jessy is about to speak, he's already talking. "This is a soul message to guide you in the right direction. You're well versed in soul magic, so I know you can do it." He begins moving around, and Bane realizes this was recorded as he moved the bodies. "I know your first thought is that bringing my soul back would require many sacrifices, but that isn't true. I've left a few embers behind; all you'll have to do is rekindle them, and not with a typical ritual."
His gaze then switches to Bane. "But the most difficult task is that you'd have to bring the generals here without Azure finding out."
"W-What do you-" Bane asks but is interrupted.
Alex looks back at Jessy. "What is the most important thing with magic, especially soul magic?"
Jessy gives a small laugh, realizing his plan. "It requires strong emotions."
"Exactly. If you call into the void with our party and the generals. I'm sure that'll be enough to bring me back."
Jessy sighs while shaking her head, her smile peeking past her hood. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you made some demon friends. Very well, I'll bring the others here. But when you come back, we're getting that drink."
"I get the feeling you're probably asking for that drink... It's a deal." Returning to Bane, who's beyond confused, Alex kneels to face him. "When I return... A lot will change; I hope you're all ready for it." Alex gets back up but looks off into the distance. "They're calling for me."
And with that last thing, his message ends. That was a lot of information for both Bane and Jessy to take in, and despite the cryptic end, they knew what needed to be done. No words needed to be said as they nodded at one another, and both teleported away to act on their part of the plan.