Realm of Monsters - Chapter 726: Stjerne

Chapter 726: Stjerne

  …The Nexus Age… 1100 years before the Schism…

  The armies of Bellum remained at the base of the mountain. Moving such a large force to the top of the mountain for a mere rebellious village was unnecessary. Her battalion of elite battlemages would be enough. 

  “If the survivor’s reports are correct, then the village should be just up ahead of this ledge,” Freya said. 

  Bellum acknowledged her right-hand with a nod. The dire vampire had a short temper, but she would never fail to heed an order, and always succeeded in whatever task Bellum gave her.

  Their battalion of a hundred battlemages trudged up the snow-covered mountain without complaint, their focus clear. When the last survivor of the scouting party Bellum had sent to the remote drow village returned alone, she was surprised. It had been a few years since a village had broken the rights of negotiations and slaughtered her messengers.

  As the battalion reached the top of the ledge, they spotted a small village nestled into the face of the mountain. Freya turned back to the mages and gave them a signal. They fell into a vanguard formation, with the yellow and red mages at the front, the white mages at the back, and the rest in the center.

  Freya and Bellum led the way, the battalion following closely behind. As they drew close, Bellum noticed several of the houses in the village were nothing more than charred ruins. 

  “It seems our scouts did some damage before they were killed,” Bellum said.

  “At least they went out with a fight— My lady, over there!” Freya drew her sword.

  A group of villagers had gathered to meet them in the snow. Despite the darkness of the late hour, Bellum and the vampires among her people had no problem seeing the approaching threat. 

  “They have kids with them, fucking cowards,” Freya spat.

  Not only children, there were women, and elderly too. None of them seemed armed, save for a few of the men, who didn’t even have proper weapons, only a couple of axes.

  A middle-aged villager stepped forward, unarmed. The drow was nursing a black eye and his left arm was in a sling. He stared at the soldiers warily before clearing his throat, “I am Andras, elder of this village. I take it, you are related to the people who came here two weeks ago?”

  “You are in the presence of the goddess of victory and war, Bellum Solisdottir,” Freya said.

  A woman grabbed Andras’s arm as he tried to walk over to Bellum. He shook his head and whispered something to her before heading to stand in front of the goddess. His every step was laboured and he struggled to kneel, grimacing in pain the whole way. “Welcome to our village, Lady Bellum.”

  “Oh, now you kneel? Suddenly care about manners when there is an army at your gates, hm?” Freya scoffed.

  “I only wish to negotiate for the lives of my people,” Andras bowed his head.

  “Negotiate? Can you believe this scum?” Freya said. “Our lady demands the surrender of you and your village.”

  “And if we do?” Andras asked.

  “Your deaths will be less painful,” Freya said.

  “What of the children?” Andras asked.

  “Your actions have consequences. Your village will be made an example,” Freya said.

  “Please, we only defended ourselves, nothing more,” Andras said.

  “Andras, is it?” Bellum said. “I offered your people medicine, food, magic, the protection of my armies, and you killed my messengers. What makes you think I will spare anyone who violates the most basic rites of guests and messengers?”

  “We did no such thing,” Andras said. “We accepted your messenger’s offer, but some of their men demanded more. They wanted to have their way with the young women of our village. We refused. Then they attacked and we… we stopped them.”

  “My lady?” Freya glanced at Bellum.

  Bellum did not know if the village elder was lying. Raping their defeated foes, much less potential allies, was not tolerated among her army, and would have led to a swift execution. Still, Bellum knew how foolish men could be when out here alone in the frigid wilderness of the mountains. She couldn’t rule out that the village elder was telling the truth. The scout survivor would have to be questioned. A purple mage would search his memories for answers.

  “It does not matter,” Bellum shook her head.

  “My lady?” Freya wrinkled her brow. “If what the elder says is true, then—”

  “We will deal with the scout later. As for this village, the reasons for their actions do not matter.” Bellum looked at Andras with apathy, “If we spare your village, other villages will believe they can get away with killing our people. Even worse, they will come to believe my messengers cannot be trusted, and therefore I cannot be trusted. I will not allow rebellion to bloom across the mountains because of one village.”

  Freya nodded solemnly and raised her sword above the kneeling elder’s head. “This is your last chance to surrender. Your deaths will be more painful if you do not.”

  The elder looked back at his family. His gaze lingered on the young boy crying out for his father. Andras raised his head, tears in his eyes, and glared at Freya and Bellum. “We will protect our children to the end.”

  Freya bared her fangs. “So be it.”

  “Excuse me. Coming through.” A young man squeezed past the vanguard of battlemages and stepped in between Andras, Bellum, and Freya. His skin was so pale that for a moment Bellum thought he was dying of frostbite. “Hello, I was looking for the hot springs said to be located somewhere on this mountain. Do you know where it is?”

  “Who are you, boy? How did you get through my battalion?” Freya glanced at her soldiers, all of whom appeared as confused as she.

  The youth looked at the dire vampire as if she were stupid. “I walked.”

  Freya scowled, “Listen here, you little shit—”

  But Bellum wasn’t listening. Her focus was on the stranger’s feet. He was standing on the snow without sinking, much like her aunt, Lunae.

  “Who are you?” Bellum asked.

  The young man blinked. “Oh. I didn’t see you there. What’s your name, Little One?”

  “Little?” Bellum frowned and held up a hand to Freya before she exploded with indignation, “Who exactly are you, stranger?”

  “You mean you really don’t know? Seriously? Huh. I guess I don’t visit this realm often enough. In that case, perhaps I should fashion a new name for myself to suit the occasion.” He rubbed his chin and looked up at the night sky, “Stjerne. Yes, that sounds fun. You may call me Stjerne.”

  “Stjerne?” Bellum said.

  Freya grabbed him by his collar and hoisted him up, “Enough with your nonsense! Tell us who you really are and what you are doing here!”

  Stjerne lifted his index finger and tapped Freya on her nose. The woman’s arm went slack and then she collapsed.

  “Freya!” Bellum rushed to her side. Freya wasn’t breathing. Her glassy eyes stared up at nothingness. “What did you do to her!?” Bellum rounded on Stjerne.

  “Hm?” He was busy brushing off his collar. 

  “She’s dead!” Bellum said.

  “Yes, that tends to happen,” he replied casually. “You there,” he glanced at the still kneeling village elder, “Do you know where the hot springs are?”

  Andras looked around uncertainly and licked his lips, “Um, do you mean the pools of hot water near the top of the mountain?”

  “Yes, those are the ones,” Stjerne beamed. “Could you guide me there? I find the water of these mountains to be quite relaxing. A bit of a hobby of mine that I picked up recently from my little sister. She loves to soak in pools of water—sometimes in blood too—but I’m partial to water myself.”

  Andras went pale. “Look out!”

  “What?” Stjerne turned in time to catch a fist to his face.

  “I’ll kill you!” Bellum screamed and pummeled him. After a few more punches, she stopped, huffing in anger. She had expected his face to cave in after the first strike, yet there he stood, unharmed.

  His pleasant expression melted into a frown. “Did no one teach you to respect your elders, pup?” Stjerne’s visage shifted in a burst of starlight and in his place stood a man two heads taller than even she.

  Bellum’s golden eyes went wide. “You’re a titan.”

  He snatched her neck before she could react. “And you’re something more.”

  “Let me go!” She tried to move, but his grip was adamant. Golden flames burst over her body but he remained unfazed.

  Stjerne turned her face to the side and examined her features. “I see. You’re half giant.”

  “Let. Me. Go!” she said through clenched teeth.

  “Children. No manners.” He snapped her neck and dropped her.

  The battalion stumbled back in shock.

  “You may run,” Stjerne said.

  The battlemages looked at the corpses of Bellum and Freya, then turned and ran back down the mountain’s ledge.

  Stjerne picked Bellum up by her scarlet hair and looked her in the eyes. All she could do was glare at him and groan weakly.

  “Behave next time, yeah?” He tossed her away with a flick of his wrist. 

  The world spun as Bellum went flying down the mountain.

  “Heed my call, Ruin,” Stjerne said.

  The staff flew out from the snow and landed in his grip. He raised Ruin and tapped it lightly on the snow. The ground shook as the snow rippled outwards, growing every second until an avalanche formed and swept down the mountainside, swallowing the entire army below.

  “Now,” Stjerne turned to Andras and the rest of the stunned villagers, “Can any of you show me to the hot springs?”

  The drows all dropped to their knees and prostrated themselves in front of him.