Heretical Oaths

Chapter 59: 15.2: Dakheng, Divided II


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Crack-crack.

Another pair of shots landed almost immediately after the first, hitting from a different angle. Aimed at the window, I was pretty sure, but it stayed intact. It would take more than that to destroy a noble’s carriage.

“Shit,” Jasmine muttered. “I had not foreseen this level of resistance.”

I started forming magic in my hands, but Jasmine held a hand up.

“Not yet,” she advised. “I have a spell that might help us out here.”

“Alright,” I said with a nod, dispelling the pieces of ruin that had been forming in my hand. “Do you think this is enemy action?”

“It is a possibility,” Jasmine said absentmindedly, her focus on the spell pattern she was forming in the air. “I doubt normal citizens would simply attack a passing carriage. Not all of these carries nobles, after all.”

“We passed all the regular citizens,” I pointed out. “The people that are still in this area are almost certainly those that were involved in the kinda-revolt last night. Not every mob was mobilized.”

“Also true,” Jasmine acknowledged.

“Just thinking out loud here,” I said, more to fill the silence than to contribute anything actually useful. I felt kind of useless, but it was what it was. I could cast a shield spell if things got hairy, but I really hadn’t learned all that many types of spells.

We’d been gone from school for a while, and I assumed that there might’ve been some lessons that I’d missed that might have covered more spells. As it was, I was resorting mostly to unstructured magic at this point, while Jasmine had apparently been well-trained in spells before we’d ever stepped foot at the Yaguan Mage University.

“I don’t think this is Seb’s group,” I said. “Should I check?”

“I would not recommend sticking my head out there,” Jasmine said, not even flinching as another pair of shots landed.

Damn, the gunfire was a lot more frequent than I thought it would be. These people were organized, even if the quality of the arms they used were less than optimal. If they kept it up—

Crack-crack.

I saw a window splinter. Not much, barely visible at a distance further than point plank, but there were hairline cracks running down it.

Were they targeting the same spots each time? Doing that enough would overstress any material even if they were using shitty hunting rifles, but that was an impressive feat of coordination and aim for a supposedly ragtag bunch of civilians.

“Whoever this is, they are definitely organized,” I said. “I’m not sure if that means regular mob, oathholder-led mob, or noble-sponsored mob.”

“They are not friendly to us,” Jasmine said. “I believe that warrants a reasonable amount of force.”

“Agreed,” I said. “Progress on the spell?”

“Almost—“ Jasmine grunted with effort as she made another motion, pulling on her oath hard to complete her working. “Almost done.”

“Anything you need me to do?” I asked.

“Yes,” Jasmine said tersely. “Open when I say to.”

She flicked her chin towards the window I’d been looking at. At the same moment, another set of shots sounded off, and the splinter grew ever so slightly.

“Got it,” I said. “Need a shield?”

“No. It’ll get in the way of the spell. Shield only after the spell has fully exited the area.”

“Alright, got it.” I moved closer to the door, heedless of the bullets slamming into the window not a quarter meter away from my face. The window wasn’t quite in danger of breaking yet, and I’d make sure to shore it up once it did get close to shattering.

Who the hell were we up against? As Jasmine had mentioned, there wasn’t really any way I could just ask them who they were.

Assess the situation. Think logically. Who were the possibilities? The noble Houses involved in the conflict, most likely, as well as the various groups of commoners.

I was almost totally sure this wasn’t Seb’s group. Even if they had discovered I was amicable with nobles, we hadn’t parted on bad terms. Sure, there was always the possibility that they’d had a sudden change of heart, but somehow I didn’t think that was incredibly likely. I couldn’t totally rule them out, but they were solidly near the bottom of the suspects for this.

Who else? It couldn’t be House Varga—Alex, as much as I didn’t want to over-associate with nobles, was our coworker and rather supportive of us—unless they were going explicitly against the wishes of their problem child.

No, it couldn’t be them. They’d agreed to a meeting, right? Why would they ambush us?

Well, I mean, they could, if it was all their own setup, but then—

“Open the door!” Jasmine shouted.

Ah, shit.

I kicked the door open and dove to the floor of the carriage as quickly as I could. A moment later, I heard and felt the blazingly hot wind of Jasmine’s spell as it soared above my head.

A moment after that, another two bullets slammed straight into the carriage. Thankfully, neither of them had been fired at an angle that could hit us, though they came dangerously close to my torso before embedding themselves into cushioned leather seats.

For a bunch of commoners, they’re really good shots.

“Shield,” Jasmine ordered, and I obeyed. A loose-frame one would have to do.

The disc of dark magic manifested into existence where the door had swung wide open, plugging the gap.

Not a moment too soon. Outside, the spell Jasmine had cast detonated. I had to squeeze my eyes shut even behind the protection of the shield, not wanting to risk another experience as a blind woman.

Heat washed over me, the effect of the spell penetrating the enclosed confines of the carriage. A dry wind passed over my skin, but it had to be nothing compared to what was happening outside.

Three full seconds passed, long and slow, and I opened my eyes again.

Outside, the gunfire had stopped.

“What spell was that?” I asked.

“Oath Storm,” Jasmine said. “Ceretian spell. When flavored with Igni, it detonates into fire and light. I upcasted it to… fifth or sixth class, I’d say.”

I frowned. “That’s not a very complicated spell, is it? That’s what the books told me, though of course I’ve never cast it myself so I can’t be sure.”

“I spent most of the time ensuring that I wouldn’t fry the carriage in the process,” Jasmine told me frankly. “We are surrounded, so I chose to detonate right next to us.”

“Are we clear to leave?” I asked. “Or do we need to clean up?”

“It won’t have killed them,” Jasmine said. “On-the-go modifications are sloppy, and this one is no exception. That was my intent, to some extent. I’d rather avoid senselesss killings if necessary.”

I didn’t quite think that self-defense against people that were actively shooting at us counted as senseless, but I went along with it anyway. I could recognize the parts of me that had been trained and honed by Lord Byron, and though I couldn’t quite disassociate my beliefs from those parts, I could learn to trust others—well, trust Jasmine, at least—to be my better judgment.

“Are we safe to exit, at least?” I said. “I want to question someone.”

“Feel free,” Jasmine said. “They should be at least partially blind. Be warned, though, you might need to keep your shields up. You never know when there’s an errant oathholder.”

“Got it,” I said. My loose-frame shield at the door was still up, so I just moved it away, keeping a disc of protection for myself as I stepped outside of the carriage.

Outside, the plaza that I’d fought in not a week ago had once again been transformed into chaos. The warehouses were simmering with the heat, small fires breaking out here and there but nothing that seemed to threaten an all-encompassing blaze. The fountain that was at the center of the place had been utterly obliterated, the blast apparently having detonated rather close to it.

Around me, commoners were in chaos. Some of them were dropped to the ground, entire parts of their clothes and body singed off, while others were simply flailing around, their vision lost to the blast. Still others were somewhere in between those two extremes, burnt badly but not lethally and suffering from at least a partial loss of eyesight.

Now that I was out of the carriage, I could tell that we had been facing people that were far better equipped than they should have been. The firearms were a little subpar, yes, but the other weapons that could’ve been turned on me had it not been for Jasmine’s Oath Storm spell were of military quality, well-polished maces and staffs and blades aplenty. It left me to wonder how they had obtained those without obtaining firearms better than old hunting rifles, but that was a question to be answered by one of them, not myself.

Most of them had been downed by the explosion, it appeared, but as with every large-scale area of effect spell, there were those who had managed to tough it out through luck, strength, or sheer willpower. They were few and far between, but they were there. Two men, I counted, along with one woman. Not only had they been at the outskirts of the effect, they had also been wearing body armor of some sort.

Wait. Body armor? Who the hell were these commoners, if they were getting equipment this good? I supposed that they might have overpowered a group of guards and stolen all of that, but I was pretty sure we would’ve heard about that by now.

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Besides, the accuracy of the snipers earlier had been insanely good for an untrained commoner. Supernaturally good, even, which pretty much only left one possibility.

They weren’t untrained.

That much was growing increasingly clear as the remaining three turned to face me. I’d hopped out of the door on the same side of the carriage as they were, so these were only the three I could see. If there were more behind me, I would have to deal with them later.

Only one of the men had a gun. The second man wielded a pair of long daggers, and the woman had a crossbow in her arms, the frame singed by the heat of the explosion but not damaged enough to break the firing mechanism.

Okay, this was doable. Threat number one was the woman with the crossbow. If its bolts were enchanted like I suspected it was—they’d found military grade blades somewhere, so it wasn’t too much of a stretch—then it had the potential to punch through a lower-intensity shield and right into me. Gun guy had a hunting rifle, two shots only, and that meant that all I had to do was block when he telegraphed a shot. Other than that, he wasn’t a threat. The last guy, a close quarters combatant, was barely even worth thinking about.

Execute. I still had a loose-frame shield up, and I brought it around with a gesture to face the guy with the gun. With my other hand, I cast another loose-frame shield, this one facing the crossbow woman.

Positioning was going to be a tad bit awkward. Knives guy was directly in front of me, and the two shooters were positioned at entrances to the plaza, the crossbow woman and the gun man roughly forty-five degrees to the left and right of the one with the knives, respectively.

Still, it was doable. I turned my gaze to face the crossbow woman, pulling from my oath harder to invest more magic into the shield facing her. The loose-frames I had weren’t perfect, and they were smaller than I would’ve liked, not much larger across than my wingspan, but such was the limitation of quickly-cast spells by a woman who hadn’t properly learned how to use her oath for many of them.

Ensuring the shields were transparent enough that my enemies could see me, I made a fist with my right hand, where the shield facing the sniper was. Well, sniper wasn’t a great term for a man with a shitty hunting rifle, but then again I was pretty sure this guy was a good shot.

We’ll see how he deals with an oath.

I pulled back with the fist, a wholly unnecessary gesture, and then I dispelled the shield facing the one with the gun.

In the same motion, I moved my other shield, diving to the left as the shield moved right. A heartbeat later, the thunderous crack of the rifle firing rang through the air, a small disturbance appearing in my shield.

He fell for it. I weakened my shield, preparing to cast another to catch the crossbow bolt that was sure to come soon after.

Before I could recast a second shield, a disc of bright red energy appeared in front of me. And not a second too soon, at that. The sudden appearance of a shield that wasn’t my own startled me enough to prevent me from reestablishing my own shield, and then the bolt fired.

It was enchanted. The bolt hit the shield and stuck. It was an odd sight, the wood-and-metal bolt hovering in midair, suspended only by its connection to the shield, but it didn’t stay that way for long.

The bolt flashed bright purple, and the shield dissipated. The attack, thankfully, didn’t go any further. Steel and wood clattered to the ground, the energy of the bolt spent.

If that shield had been produced by the person I thought it was, then that was an awfully powerful bolt. Where the fuck were these commoners getting weapons that could neutralize class five shields cast by someone who’d been training for years?

“I had that,” I said, not bothering to turn around when I heard footsteps.

“I’m sure you did,” Jasmine said. “Heads up. The man with the rifle did not spend his second shot.”

“I’m aware,” I replied. “Thanks for the support.”

“Of course.” I felt rather than saw her presence some behind me, and it was more reassuring than any of the plans I’d come up with in my head. “I see there was still some resistance. I should have figured.”

“Not your fault,” I said. “Anyway—“

“Shit!” Jasmine exclaimed.

I whipped my head around to look at her, catching a glimpse of her stance—one hand with her revolver out and the other casting some form of spell—and then looked away almost immediately, following her line of sight.

The crossbow woman had reloaded.

Not that that was going to be an issue. The frozen moment of worry disappeared like dirt in the spring rain as Jasmine attacked twice with one motion.

First, the revolver, pulling on her oath and firing a bullet that held the powers of Igni within it. Second, a spell that I couldn’t see the formation of but could see the results of. Before the crossbow wielder could react, a pillar of roiling yellow and red energy hit her from the sky, fire and lightning appearing from a cloudless sky to strike at her. That didn’t take her out, but the flaming bullet to the leg definitely did.

With a cry of pain, she fell to the ground, the crossbow clattering down to the dirt next to her. Not dead. For all that she was noble and I wasn’t, Jasmine was an awful lot more careful with people’s lives than me.

“What in the gods’ names was that?” I asked. “Was that a—“

“Lesser Smite, yes,” Jasmine said. “Questions later. We still have more attackers to deal with.”

I looked straight ahead of me.

Ah. The knife-wielder, apparently having no regard for his safety, was sprinting straight towards us. He hadn’t been doing that earlier. Had he capitalized off of the crossbow lady? Probably.

“Hey!” I shouted. “You know Seb? Vagrant-looking guy?”

“Traitor to the cause!” knives-guy shouted back, still sprinting towards us with his arms outstretched backwards, as if doing so would make him run faster. I had to admit, I was a little bit impressed that he was managing to shout while still running at us.

“Who do you work for?” I shouted.

No response. The knives guy just sped up.

We still had my shield up, protecting us from the mundane rifle that the sniper had. That, along with the fact that he’d be shooting a fellow commoner if he missed, gave me the confidence to rush towards the knives guy.

“Try not to kill him!” Jasmine requested, raising her voice. “I doubt this is all them!”

Jasmine’s morality really did come into play at the most awkward times.

Fine, I could handle this nonmagically. Any hit to this squishy commoner was probably going to result in his untimely demise, so that meant all magic was off. No unstructured, no spells.

Still maintaining the shield, I rushed forward myself. There wasn’t that much more distance between me and my opponent. Ten meters became five became two and then I hit the ground, translating my forward momentum into a sweeping kick.

As fast as we’d been heading towards each other, the knife-wielder didn’t have time to react. He tried to readjust at the last second, stabbing downwards instead of forwards, but that wasn’t going to be enough. The man tripped over my leg, flailing his knives around, and he tumbled forward.

Before he could catch his balance, I finished the follow-through with the kick and rose to my feet all in one motion. No momentum wasted and the tempo of the fight was still mine. I dashed towards him, taking the two steps towards his stumbling body, and I bodily slammed into him.

I wasn’t particularly hefty for my size, but the mass of a grown woman ramming him in the back when he was already off-balance was more than enough to fully knock him over. I fell down with him, but that was less of an issue for me than him, given that I was on top and I had actually prepared for the next few seconds.

He recovered surprisingly quickly, I had to give him that. Almost immediately, he tried to roll to his feet, but I was faster to get up. As I did, I stomped on one of his arms, hearing and feeling a satisfying crunch as something broke beneath the strike.

The man screamed in pain, his hand involuntarily releasing the knife that had been in it. I scooped it up casually, turning my back on the now-crippled man and—

When I turned back to him, he was standing on two feet again, his good hand still holding a knife.

“Seriously?” I asked, cocking my head. “Who the hell are you guys?”

“Believers,” he spat.

There was probably information to be obtained from this guy, but I’d grown tired of dealing with him. He was way more trained than he should’ve been, and something told me that trying to interrogate him would be just as much a pain if he was able to push aside the pain of a broken wrist this quickly.

I elected to take the easy way out. I threw the knife at him.

It wasn’t a knife meant for throwing, but what did that matter when I had years of practice with every blade imaginable on my side?

The knife caught him in the torso, stabbing him straight in the gut. This time, he fell, the pain of both injuries seeming to catch up to him all at once.

“Might need a heal on this one,” I commented.

A bullet fired before either Jasmine or I could say anything else.

I turned my attention to the gunner. He had fired straight into my shield, the bullet completely and utterly failing to reach me.

“Hey there,” I said, gathering magic in my hands. “Why don’t we have a little chat?”

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