Free Patch 17 (Realm of Arkon) by G. Akella, Mark Berelekhis Page A

caused his heart to shrink even further with pain, "the Foxes are down to a hundred at the most."
    "How! Who?" the archmage exclaimed.
    "The twins and their squad, and Alsa. She covered the champion at the last moment, but..." Saverus gave a heavy sigh. "That beast," he glanced bitterly at the vanquished demon, "its rage was beyond anything we could imagine."
    "How much time do we have?" Altus asked his deputy. There would be time to grieve, but now they needed to complete this raid, in which they had already suffered more casualties than in the previous fifty years combined. The damned plan with those damned beasts!
    "It took us an hour and a half, monsieur, and we've got at least four more. There are no surviving enemies. It is strange that we haven't encountered a single child, worker or servant at the citadel, but only warriors and mages. It also smells of Death," he looked up at the pyramid. "Raena told me what happened there... It's like this castle was visited by one of the twice cursed.
    Continuing their conversation, they walked up to the lord's body. In one smooth motion, Altus pulled the sword from its eye-socket, and shuddered from a powerful mental blow. The Tear looked nothing like itself, as tongues of dark mist streamed down the silvery blade with crimson glyphwork. The mage whispered a few words, and the mist was gone.
    "What's with it?" Saverus motioned at the sword.
    "We'll figure that out later," the archmage responded grimly. "I would guess that the weapon has consumed that thing's soul," Altus pointed the blade at the lord's corpse, then sighed. "I'd told Lars there was something wicked about that barrow... What now?" He gave his deputy a weary look.
    "We've located the vault. Haven't touched anything yet, we'll wait till after the ritual," Saverus looked up at the sky. "I don't like it here. Our business shouldn't take more than a few hours."
    Then there was flame—the Red Flame—elevating their fallen brothers-in-arms to the gods of light, to the solemn song of the Foxes drumming on their shields. The mages stood to the side gloomily.
    As Altus watched the flames, he contemplated whether it was time to retire. The rector of the Magic Academy in Rovendum—his good friend and former classmate—had long been tempting him with ample promises: a cushy job as his deputy and several labs for research. He also thought about how much he was going to miss Lars, this being his second irreplaceable loss in the past fifty years. His woeful thoughts darted from the twins, Ronan and Gable, to the red-haired beauty Alsa, his finest analyst and caster.
    When the flames died down, leaving not a single grain of ash on the slabs, the archmage stepped forward and said:
    "We've got two hours, no more," he amplified his voice with magic, "to turn this whole castle inside out. Standard procedure—we take anything that's valuable, then destroy the fortress and leave. Let's move."
    At that very moment, a series of powerful tremors shook the castle. The red portal window to the lands of humans rattled shut, and the tower over the gate exploded as several fireballs crashed into it, splashing rock fragments all around. There came another series of quakes, causing the wall to the right of the main gate to sink, then collapse, kicking up a cloud of dust. Bewildered, the mages hurriedly put up their shields, as the first screams of the wounded filled the air.
    "Helms! Helms! Quickly, you sons of bitches! Battle formation!" Kan Shyom's shout drowned out the moans of the wounded and cries of surprise. "Healers, in the back!"
    The Foxes rushed to get back in battle formations.
    The gate shuddered from a mighty blow, but stayed intact. Three more blobs of fire flew over the walls and crashed into the donjon's masonry, splashing red-hot splinters and flooding the gray stone with liquid fire.
    As the dust settled, the stunned humans saw a veritable army of demons advancing on the castle: four squares of heavy infantry under black