Chapter 83: Rescue

Chapter 83: Chapter 83: Rescue

"The battlefield teaches us how to survive, but it takes an anchor of the heart to remind us why we bother living through the smoke." — Maxim

The wind sweeping down from the jagged peaks of the eastern frontier carried the unmistakable scent of ozone and fresh blood.

Riven moved through the mist covered gorge like a ghost slipping through a keyhole.

His dark coat blended into the shadowed cracks of the stone walls. His unmasked face remained focused, his eyes scanning every ridge, tree, and stretch of frozen ground.

Above him, Nyx glided silently through the gray sky.

Her dark wings barely moved as she rode the warm air currents beneath the clouds. Her violet eyes swept across the timberland below, searching for movement.

Riven touched the silver claw token inside his coat.

The frantic amber pulse had stopped.

Now it only gave off a steady warmth against his ribs.

The resonance was no longer searching.

It had found its source.

Here.

Deep within the disputed eastern borderlands.

Then the gorge exploded.

A violent concussive wave tore through the mist.

BOOM.

Crimson mana erupted several hundred yards ahead.

Ancient pine trees shook as the blast tore bark from their trunks. Glowing embers scattered through the fog and drifted into the ravine below.

Riven’s expression hardened.

He immediately dropped low and sprinted along the narrow ledge.

A ten foot gap opened ahead of him.

Riven jumped.

His body cleared the chasm effortlessly.

Shadow mana gathered beneath his feet for a fraction of a second, giving him the extra push needed to reach the opposite side.

He landed without a sound.

Riven immediately crouched behind a moss covered boulder.

Below him was a natural stone amphitheater.

A battle was raging inside it.

Six armored mercenaries surrounded a defensive line made from jagged stone pillars.

The insignia on their armor was unmistakable.

An underground slaver crew.

At the center of the defensive position stood Kalia.

The red haired beastgirl moved like a cornered predator.

Her silver clawed gauntlets flashed as she blocked a heavy polearm strike.

She dropped low.

Her leg swept across the mercenary’s ankles.

The man crashed onto his back.

Kalia immediately drove her heel into his chest.

He rolled across the frozen ground.

But she was injured.

Blood ran from a deep gash across her shoulder.

Her breathing was ragged.

Behind her, the outer camp of the Silver Claw Tribe had been reduced to ruins.

Tents burned in the mud.

Wooden structures had been shattered.

Several tribal defenders were gathered behind the stone barricade, wounded and exhausted.

The syndicate leader raised a staff.

Dark purple mana gathered around its tip.

"Tear down the stone wall!" he shouted.

Kalia bared her teeth.

She raised her claws.

The spell forming above the leader was too powerful.

Even Riven could tell that much from here.

The mana density continued climbing.

Kalia knew it too.

She planted her feet.

She prepared herself for the impact.

Riven’s jaw tightened.

No.

A sharp tear split the air.

Space compressed.

Then snapped apart.

Riven dropped from the ledge.

He appeared directly between Kalia and the syndicate leader.

The spell fired.

Riven raised one hand.

He did not chant.

He did not form the complicated hand patterns Lady Aerwynn had spent weeks trying to teach him.

His Shadow Core simply opened.

Darkness surged through his arm.

A concentrated bolt of Shadow mana erupted from his palm.

It struck the center of the enemy spell.

The collision lasted less than a second.

CRACK.

The entire spell structure collapsed.

The crimson and purple energy folded inward, swallowed by Riven’s Shadow mana.

The syndicate leader’s staff disappeared inside a sphere of absolute darkness.

Then it shattered.

The remaining fragments fell to the ground as gray dust.

Silence followed.

The syndicate leader stared at Riven.

His face had gone pale.

"What the hell are you?"

Riven lowered his hand.

He drew his sword.

The blade left the sheath without making a sound.

No metallic scrape.

No ringing steel.

Nothing.

Kalia leaned against one of the stone pillars.

Despite her injuries, a wild grin spread across her face.

"You’re late."

Riven glanced at her.

For the first time since arriving, the tension in his shoulders eased slightly.

"Traffic through the royal gates was terrible."

Kalia blinked.

Riven’s mouth twitched.

"Let’s finish this."

The mercenaries raised their weapons.

Too late.

Riven vanished.

Shadow Leap carried him across the battlefield.

The first mercenary barely turned before Riven’s blade struck the cord holding his weapon to his armor.

The polearm dropped.

Riven stepped past him.

A compact burst of Shadow mana struck the man’s chest.

He collapsed.

The second mercenary swung wildly.

Riven ducked beneath the attack.

His blade struck the man’s wrist.

The weapon fell.

A second strike to the side of the helmet dropped him unconscious.

The third mercenary tried to cast.

Riven’s eyes flicked toward the gathering mana.

He recognized the structure immediately.

A lightning spell.

His fingers moved.

Disturb Magic.

Shadow mana slipped through the forming spell structure and struck the connection between the caster and the spell.

The magic collapsed before it could form.

The mercenary stared at his empty hand.

Riven’s pommel struck his temple.

He dropped.

Above them, Nyx folded her wings.

She dove.

The Umbral Wyvern struck the remaining mercenary from behind, claws tearing through his armor and sending him crashing into the mud.

The entire fight had lasted less than thirty seconds.

The gorge became silent.

Only the crackling remains of the burning camp broke the stillness.

The syndicate leader stumbled backward.

His spine struck a stone wall.

Riven walked toward him.

The leader’s hands shook.

Riven stopped several feet away.

"Who sent you?"

The man spat blood onto the ground.

"You have no idea what you’ve stepped into, human."

Riven waited.

"The eastern valleys belong to us now."

The man’s eyes shifted toward Kalia.

Riven’s eyes narrowed.

He stepped forward.

The tip of his sword struck the man’s temple.

The leader collapsed face first into the frost.

Riven stared down at him for a moment.

Then he looked toward Kalia.

She was still standing.

Barely.

His expression softened.

Just slightly.

He sheathed his blade.

The quiet click of the scabbard was the only sound.

Then something slammed into him.

Riven’s feet shifted backward.

Kalia had thrown both arms around his neck.

She buried her face against his shoulder.

Her entire body was trembling.

Riven froze.

His first instinct was to reach for his blade.

He stopped himself.

This was not an attack.

There was no hostile intent.

No danger.

Just Kalia.

His arms remained awkwardly at his sides for several seconds.

Then he slowly raised one hand.

He hesitated.

Finally, he rested it against her upper back.

"You actually came," Kalia whispered.

Her voice cracked.

"When the mana nodes shattered and the syndicate vanguard cut us off, I was so damn scared."

Her grip tightened.

"I didn’t know if the token reached you."

Riven’s fingers curled slightly against her back.

He looked over her shoulder at the ruined camp.

Burning tents.

Broken weapons.

Blood in the snow.

His expression darkened.

"I received it."

Kalia pulled back slightly.

Her amber eyes were wet.

"But you’re here."

Riven looked at her injuries.

The blood running down her shoulder.

The cuts across her arms.

The exhaustion in her face.

His jaw tightened.

"I should have come sooner."

Kalia stared at him.

For once, Riven did not try to hide behind some tactical explanation.

"I was too far away."

His voice was quieter.

"I didn’t know how bad it was."

Kalia’s expression softened.

Then she laughed.

It was a shaky laugh.

A relieved laugh.

"You really were worried about me."

Riven looked away.

Kalia smiled.

She leaned against him again.

Riven let out a quiet breath.

This time, he did not stand completely rigid.

His hand remained against her back.

Then Kalia pulled away.

She studied his face.

A mischievous smile appeared.

Before Riven could react, she pressed her cheek against his.

She rubbed the side of her face against his cheek and jaw in a slow, deliberate motion.

Riven blinked.

Once.

Twice.

His brow furrowed.

"What are you doing?"

"Rubbing my scent on you."

Kalia’s voice carried a pleased little rumble.

She continued the strange ritual for another moment before pulling back.

"Silver Claw beastfolk use scent to recognize members of their pack."

Riven stared at her.

Kalia grinned.

"Now everyone in the eastern valleys will know you came here for me."

Riven touched his cheek.

He looked at his fingers.

Nothing.

No blood.

No dirt.

No residue.

"My skin is clean."

Kalia stared at him.

Then she burst out laughing.

"You’re hopeless."

She reached up with a blood stained thumb and tapped the tip of his nose.

Riven’s expression finally cracked.

A small smile appeared.

Barely there.

But real.

"You’re strange."

Kalia’s grin widened.

"And you’re still here."

Riven looked toward the ruined camp.

The smile faded.

The warmth of the silver token still rested against his ribs.

Kalia stepped beside him.

"Come on."

She gestured toward the ruined camp.

"We need to check the tribe before Lyra sends an entire battalion of royal guards across the mountains."

Riven sighed.

"She would."

Kalia laughed.

"You sound scared."

"I’m not."

"You should be."

Riven looked at her.

Then at the ruined camp.

Nyx landed on his shoulder and settled against his neck.

Riven reached up and gently scratched beneath her chin.

The little wyvern gave a pleased chitter.

For a moment, Riven simply stood there.

Kalia was alive.

Nyx was beside him.

And despite everything that had happened, he had made it here in time.

He could feel the tension finally leaving his body.

Then his eyes returned to the ruins.

The moment was over.

Whatever had attacked the Silver Claw had done it for a reason.

Riven started walking.

Kalia followed beside him.

Together, they moved deeper into the ruined camp.

Behind them, the defeated soldiers lay scattered across the frozen ground.

Ahead waited the tribal core.

And whatever secret had been important enough for them to spill blood over.