HoN Lore 32: 7 Days Left

A dilemma. There were exactly 6 towers left outside of the ones protecting the Shrine. One in each of the lanes had been destroyed.

The Legion moved fast. He reviewed what information he knew. Jereziah and a few others had disappeared from the main force in the middle lane. Ophelia led it with some others, but the other lanes had Behemoths with an entourage being extremely efficient at destroying the towers. A welcoming party was already on their way, but he knew it would not be enough.

Not only that, but it seems that some of them had found their way underground. He did not know yet who, but he guessed that it could be Jereziah. The undead carapace, Tremble was guarding it. But who knows how it would fare? Not to mention the other…

There was only one of him. He couldn’t be everywhere at once.

But who needed to be able to split himself when he had the might of the Hellbourne under his control?

And Seimei raised his arms, bringing his new staff down onto the ground. The staff had been given to him to mark his command over the Hellbourne for the protection of the Shrine.

The daemon answered his call, and materialized from the earth. Seimei then raised his staff with both arms, and a Malphas stepped from the Shrine. He concentrated again, and a second one materialized itself.

The first daemon crawled about him, awaiting orders. He watched for a moment as it continuously seemed to be bulging from the head to the tail, as though it were in a constant state of digesting prey.

“There is a slight problem underground. Find the elemental and eliminate them.”

It screeched its delight at being able to wreck havoc, and immediately dug a large hole underground, where it rapidly disappeared from sight. Seimei looked at the large hole left in the wake of its passing, and turned around to face the two Malphai he had summoned.

With a flick of his thoughts, they turned different directions and began their path of destruction to the lanes he assigned them. He himself would go meet Ophelia in the middle.

6 days left.


He had aimed the bullet straight for the unknown man’s head. A silver bullet will embed itself inside its target, to chain a daemon to the current plane.

But the window had shattered. He had…missed?

No, that was not right. No one could move fast enough to dodge it.

“Quite the dangerous weapon,” a voice growled from his right.

He whirled around to look in the darkness that his eyes had not yet adjusted to, but still couldn’t see past the shadowy veil.

“If I hadn’t immediately teleported to my sword, I would have died.”

He stepped inside the doorway and moved leftwards into the shadows himself, feeling the need to put distance between himself and the unknown man. He needed time for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Where were the clergy? Were they already dead?

But a muffled scream pierced the darkness, and he had his answer. They were still alive.

Unworldly green flames exploded into sight, surrounding the blade of the man’s weapon, and illuminated the room. The man stepped forwards and drove his blade directly at a running clergy’s back.

Without hesitation, he threw a dagger at the man as a quick prayer blasted tombstones from the ground and bearing directly towards the unknown man. The man changed his course, sidestepping the thrown dagger, but the tombstones hemmed him against the wall, restricting his movement.

He drew his silver gun and pointed it directly at the man’s head again, cocking it as he spoke, “This fight is over. Repent for your sins, and may Sol have mercy on your soul.”


“They are here,” said Ophelia. She felt the presence nearby.

The Blacksmith made a move to get up from his seat, but she motioned him to sit back down.

“I will go meet them. Some Beasts are still not accustomed to humans.”

The Blacksmith snorted, saying, “Speak for yourself.”

“I am the Priestess.” she replied simply.

The brush rustled nearby, and Ophelia picked up her staff to go meet them. They had answered her call much quicker than expected; she did not know that Beasts still stayed in this blighted part of the Forest.

But as she approached, roots erupted from the ground beneath her feet, entrapping her where she stood.

Before she had a chance to shout for help, an unbearable rage took over her as she suddenly found herself with an immense thirst for blood. She opened her mouth, but the desire to suddenly taste blood overtook her sense of speech.

And the tree in front of her ripped apart, as the undead husk now known as Deadwood tore it from its roots, and bore down on her, with the familiar red hide riding on its shoulder.

She tried to move, but couldn’t. She tried to call for help, but couldn’t. She tried to look away as Deadwood pulled back its arm and drove it at her body.

But she couldn’t.

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