Newly Summoned Demoness 2 - Chapter 25 – Raid Awry (Patreon)

Elania followed Gaston through the thinning streets of the city, her mind a turbulent mix of worry and determination. The weight of Yolani’s combat bag on her shoulder served as a constant reminder of the urgency that powered their steps.

The feeling of dread had formed into a solid knot, but it was a feeling that she could at least fight against now.

As they passed through one of the city’s gates, she couldn’t help but form a question in her mind. “How could the cultists have gotten them past the gates? It doesn’t make sense.”

Gaston grunted. “The sewers, most likely. Easy to move unseen, and they used them before.”

Elania clenched her jaw, frustration filling her. “Maybe we should wall up the damn sewers or something. It seems like all manner of shit makes its way through them.”

“The system is absolutely massive. The noble district and the Conclave district have their underlayer barred by section,” Gaston said.

“Oh. Of course the well-to-do sections of the city have proper security and safety,” Elania replied sarcastically.

Gaston eyed her. “Take it up with Magister Keswick. You’re the one with their ears.”

Elania tensed up at the rebuke. She knew he was right, but it did nothing to quell her impatience. Well, she would remember this, and bring it up on her next trip to the Magistry.

The barracks loomed into view, but it didn’t suppress the feeling that the diversion was wasting time. Men were already inside, changing their gear, the sound of clanging armor and weapons filling the area.

She stepped inside and Gaston moved to change with the others. There was a controlled sort of chaos as the dozen or so men stripped out of their uniforms and donned more inconspicuous armor. Leather brigandines and chainmail shirts were hidden under jackets, while longswords and muskets were traded for hatchets and cudgels.

They looked like a lot of the rougher thugs she’d seen roving around the Mercenary District, but she guessed that was the point. It did nothing to fool her [Identify] as she scanned them. Their classes were still very obvious, but she had learned that [Identify] was hardly a universal skill.

She pulled Yolani’s bag closer and checked its contents. The wands and other gadgets she had no idea how to use, but Harlock’s words on learning how to at least use the tools, even if she didn’t understand the concepts, hit her. If they managed to rescue Yolani…

Panic filled her, and she felt like she’d been jolted by an electric shock.

When. When! When they rescued Yolani.

Elania repeated the mantra in her head like a shield. They would get her friend back.

She sat down and waited. It felt like an eternity before Gaston approached her, now dressed in the civilian outfit that barely hid his armored underlayers.

Maybe people wouldn’t put that they were part of the City Watch together right away, but they would certainly know that the group was ready for trouble.

Maybe that was the point.

“Ready?” he asked, his gaze sharp.

Elania nodded and stood up. The clamor of armor and the murmur of hushed voices filled the barracks as they started out. She realized that another wave of men were getting ready. “More?” They already had gathered a dozen extra escorts.

“They’re backup,” Gaston explained. “In case something goes wrong. They’ll be waiting on the edge of the district to dive in if we need them.”

“Smart,” Elania replied. Reinforcements were good, especially if things went wrong or the hint of unrest from the previous weeks showed itself. Things were still tense after the central square riot.

It didn’t take long before they made it to the gates leading into the Mercenary District; the guards acting with an unspoken cue, halting traffic, and sealing off the entrance as soon as they were through.

Whatever preparations the rest of the guard were making in relation to the sudden rescue mission, they were larger than just a few squads men. They were preparing for another riot.

People on the street seemed to sense it too; they scattered at the site of Gaston and the group, their faces etched with concern. The light stones overhead dimmed slightly, plunging the district into the darker shades of the late evening, only one step removed from the dark setting.

Even the usual suspects looking for prey on the streets seemed to draw back into the alleys. A palpable tension hung in the air as they pressed forward. Even though she wasn’t in her [Darkwalker] form, she could taste the waiting violence on the air.

Elania tightened her grip on Yolani’s bag and glanced at Gaston. His eyes met hers, a silent communication that they would be continuing despite the risks.

That was good. There was no turning back. Not for her.

As they turned the corner, she scanned the street for any danger, her hand on the hilt of her [Vorpal Dagger]. They came to a sudden halt as Gaston held up a hand.

The group closed in to listen. “Our destination is around the corner. It’s the largest building on the block. Half of us will surround it on the outside to make sure no one tries to run off.”

Elania glanced at the men around her, seeing a mix of resolve and acceptance. The plan was simple in theory, but she doubted it would go smoothly. Things didn’t have a tendency to be easy.

“Once we’re in position, the rest of us will breach the front. We go in hard and fast. No hesitation,” Gaston ordered. “Let’s go.”

Nods of agreement rippled through the group. They moved and as soon as they were around the corner, Elania spotted their destination. Gaston gestured toward it to make sure everyone was on the same page.

What she didn’t expect to see was the large line of people huddled in front of the entrance, their faces weary and desperate. Didn’t Gaston mention they were using the building as some sort of medical clinic?

Gaston grunted under his breath. “They’re using innocents as cover,” he said, his voice laced with contempt.

Elania felt a surge of disgust for the cultists’ tactics, but also a worry for the people that were going to be caught up in the brewing action. Part of that went towards Yolani and Henri as well.

If the cult was willing to use average civilians as cover, what would they do to her friends?

“We stick to the plan,” Gaston stated loud enough for everyone to hear. “We can’t let them have time to figure things out or slip away.”

The group split as directed, half moving to surround the building from the back and sides. Elania stayed with Gaston and those heading for the front, her heart pounding against her ribs. All her combat senses began to tingle as she searched for any hostile activity.

Other than the civilians eyeing them warily, nothing happened. Some of them stepped back while others pulled their cloaks or blankets tighter and fled.

They reached the front of the line quickly, and Gaston addressed the black-robed man controlling traffic at the entrance directly. “Please step aside.”

“I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait with the others—” the man’s words trailed off to a whisper as Gaston and the guards unsheathed or brandished their weapons.

It was a clear signal their intentions were beyond a mere inquiry. Elania’s hand tightened on the hilt of her dagger, ready for any sign of threat as they pushed their way into the building, shoving aside several cultists who had been loitering just inside.

The interior of the building was a start contrast to the outside. Wounded and sickly individuals lay on cots and bedrolls attended to by robed figures whose benevolent façade did little to ease Elania’s suspicion. The air was thick with rot, miasma, and sharp antiseptics.

One of the black-robed figures with a wooden necklace stepped forward, a mix of indignation and authority in her posture. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded, her eyes narrowing.

Gaston stood firm, waving several of the men to search the room. “We’re looking for prisoners taken by your cult. Release them now, or face the consequences.”

Elania scanned the room, her gut tightening. The place had the atmosphere of a trap, the dim candle lighting leaving the place in flickering shadows. Even with her [Darkvision] it felt… hostile.

“We have no prisoners here. This is a place of healing and charity,” the woman replied. “I must insist you leave at once; we’ve already paid your kind for protection.”

“Search upstairs,” Gaston ordered, gesturing to a staircase in the corner. Several guards spread out with grim determination, moving through the crowd. Another pair of guards opened side doors, uncovering sicker and more injured, but no sign of Yolani or Henri.

“You can’t do this! We paid! We paid!” the woman shouted as she grabbed Gaston’s arm. He shoved her hard, and she fell to the floor.

Before he could retort, the front doors burst inward behind them, and a group of armed men Elania didn’t recognize stepped inside.

“That’s right,” the lead man sneered, steeping forward with a swagger that came with the confidence of having a dozen men at his back. “This is blood-dog turf! Who in the seven hells do you think you are, barging in here?”

Elania sized up the new arrivals. There was an edge to them that spoke of violence and ruthlessness.

[Gang Leader - Human - Lvl 126]

[Basher - Human - Lvl 111]

[Gang Fighter - Human - Lvl 98]

[Roughneck - Human - Lvl 121]

The front four made it obvious what they were when she used [Identify]. Their levels were high enough to suggest familiarity with combat, and in line with the common violence in the Mercenary District. The other dozen men behind them were all more of the same.

If it wasn’t for the numbers, she doubted they would be much of a threat.

Gaston turned to face them head-on, his demeanor unflinching. “City Watch. This is an official investigation; I suggest you stand down.” He pulled a golden badge out of his jacket and held it up, the official seal of the Guard glinting in the clinic’s dim light.

The man let out a cold, mirthless laugh, then sneered. “The Magisters don’t run things down here. We do.”

Elania shifted her weight, preparing for a fight. The guards searching the first floor slowly filtered back to stand behind Gaston, backing him up.

The moans of the sick and injured filled the air, despite the standoff. The black-robed cultists cleared the area between the two groups while doing their best to tend to their charges.

“A member of the City Guard has been kidnapped,” Gaston stated, “and we have reason to believe the cult is responsible.”

The thugs exchanged uncertain glances and murmurs. The woman on the ground protested loudly. “We haven’t done anything but offer aid to the sick!” She gestured towards the injured civilians.

Elania felt her heart sinking. She had expected many things—mostly fighting—but this wasn’t one of them.

“Elania,” Gaston said, glancing at her, “take a look in the basement.”

As she nodded, a mocking laugh erupted from the blood-dog’s leader. “Maybe once I’m done with her owner, we’ll have a new pet boys. Looks like an obedient little thing!”

Elania froze for a fraction of a second, her blood turning to ice.

She reached out and grabbed Gaston’s arm, her voice low. “Take the others and go search the basement. I’ll stay here on the first floor.”