The Sword of Light

Within Barion's hand, there was a glow. It was not like the light of a fire, or the sun, but something which wasn't particularly offensive to stare at despite its brightness. It was golden, illuminating the walls of the chamber. If a human witnessed it, they would most assuredly refer to it as the 'Light of Heaven'.

The goblins who were especially close to Barion did not have time to react. Their very bodies, as if caught in the magma flow of a volcano, were burnt to crisps and disintegrated almost instantly. Those who stood further away were first blinded, before suffering the same fate. Amazingly, the women who had been left shivering on the chamber floor were not affected, and instead seemed calmed by the light's presence.

It never faded, but if one looked closely, they would see that the light had formed into a distinctive shape--that of a blade. Barion's face remained unflinchingly neutral as the commotion carried on. The goblins who stood far away enough to suffer only minor burns pointed and shrieked at the phenomenon, like they had been conditioned from birth to fear the very sight of it. The Amorphophallus, too, released its grip on the women in its centre, tentacles curling uncomfortably while bathing in the light.

"Phew…" Barion exhaled, taking a stance with the sword, "...Hmph!"

In an instant, his wrist had circled around him and covered the length of the chamber. A hideous shrieking sound emanated from the Amorphophallus as the golden sword extended and sliced straight through its body lengthwise, at the same time striking every remaining goblin--whether they tried to evade or not. All at once, the chamber went silent, with only the low humming of Barion's blade audible in the background. Eventually, that, too, faded, as he seemed to dismiss the sword with a flick of his wrist.

"Hah…" He bent over, hands on his knees, "That really takes it out of me…"

It was a skill he hadn't put to use in quite a while. Frankly, he was impressed that its power hadn't faded in the slightest. What remained of those creatures he had bathed in light were corpses whose flesh appeared to float from their bodies as discoloured cinders, disintegrating muscle and bone entirely.

After a few laboured breaths, Barion took note of the silence within the room--a stark difference from the chorus of madness that had perverted it just moments ago. Most of the chamber's countless occupants remained catatonic against the muddy floor, whereas those who only barely held on to consciousness could only stare around in bewilderment. Some strange sound, like the shimmering of a magic crystal, caught his attention, and he looked up to see Dorma floating down gracefully from the bridge above, a complicated magic circle twisting beneath her feet.

"My, the Sword of Light hasn't lost its power, I see." She commented, landing beside him, "It seems you're still worthy after all this time, Barion."

"I'm a little surprised myself." He replied, a strange warmth still lingering in his palm, "But still… the fact that there was a Demon down here…"

"And here I thought they had been wiped out completely." Dorma put a hand to her chin, "It is a little worrying, I must admit."

"It's no wonder the goblins were rallying here. Even if someone did manage to reach the final chamber, they wouldn't have been able to defeat the Amorphophallus." Barion tapped his foot, "...But we need to deal with the problem at hand right now. These women need to be returned to their homes."

Despite being one of their saviours, Dorma couldn't bear to meet the eyes of those who were lucid enough to acknowledge the two of them, "If we'd arrived here sooner…"

"Saying something like that doesn't suit you, Dorma." Barion frowned, "The fact that we're here at all is what matters the most. Isn't that what you once said?"

"Hm. So you remember that…" She flashed a pensive, but saddened, smile, "You couldn't bear the sight of that burning village. Even when we rescued as many people as we could, you still blamed yourself for not being stronger that day."

"Being a hero isn't about being perfect." He replied, "No--it may be that our imperfections are precisely what make us heroes to begin with."

"You certainly have grown up a little, haven't you?"

"Maybe a little too much. That goes for both of us." Barion sighed, "...Could you Gate this place to Gria? Or Lefershire?"

"The latter is the most I can manage, I'm afraid." She answered, "But it would be best for us to reach a safe place, anyway. Please make some room, Barion."

Gate. A high-level spell allowing instantaneous travel between two places. Though its range was limited, repeated casting of the spell in a single place for a certain period of time would eventually make the gateway permanent, so it was a popular way for sorcerers to cut down on travel time. Normally, an expensive assortment of crystal powder would be used as a catalyst for the spell, but the magical power within Dorma's staff was more than enough to compensate for a single cast.

Incanting in an unintelligible tongue, Dorma moved her hands in esoteric motions before a wind could be felt emanating from the empty space Barion had moved to create. As if the very air had been torn apart, a rift of sorts howled open with a thunderous sound. The spinning maelstrom of magical energy looked quite intimidating, but it was as stable as it could possibly be.

"Go on ahead, Barion." Dorma insisted, "The villagers may be frightened by the appearance of a gateway, so please make sure they don't fetch a cleric to close it."

"Will do." He answered, and without an ounce of fear stepped straight into the gateway, feeling a mild shock run through his body as he was caught briefly in the space between dimensions, emerging an instant later in the humble centre of Lefershire. The few villagers who were there to notice his appearance looked frightened for a moment, but calmed themselves after realising Barion was human.

Shortly afterwards, a parade of shell-shocked women emerged from the portal, clutching their arms with widened eyes, occasionally carrying someone who was too unresponsive to walk by themselves. When Dorma had accounted for every victim in the chamber, the village square was filled with no less than 1000 people, easily outnumbering the hamlet's population.

"They're from the goblin burrow." It wasn't long before Barion was explaining the situation to a handful of royal guards who were assigned to the village perimeter.

"Unbelievable…" One such guard was bewildered by the number of prisoners, "To think the situation was this bad… the capital must learn of this immediately!"

"We found them in the final chamber, but there are still more goblins off in the side-tunnels. You'll need to organise a raid to destroy it completely. A big one."

Barion tactfully decided not to mention the appearance of a Demon at the bottom level, fearing that it would send the country into a panic.

"Lefershire doesn't have nearly enough space to accommodate these people…" The guard muttered to himself, "We'll need to organise a temporary camp outside of the village with the help of some other settlements until everyone can be properly identified and sent back to their homes."

"I take it me and my comrade are free to go?"

"Naturally. Though, I must ask…" He responded, looking over Barion and Dorma, "Was it really just the two of you inside that burrow?"

"Something like that." Barion answered.

"Well, I'm glad the capital finally sent some A-list adventurers here. Rest assured, you'll always receive a warm welcome, should you ever visit again."

"I'll leave these people in your capable hands, then." Barion entrusted, "Farewell."

It wouldn't be a simple matter, housing and relocating the burrow's prisoners. There almost certainly weren't enough tents to satisfy over 1000 people in Lefershire, and it was likely the town didn't produce a great surplus of food, either. Bringing the crisis to a peaceful end would pose quite the logistical challenge.

"Barion." Dorma spoke up as the two ejected themselves from the square, "You needn't worry about the women. I'll be sure to have a word with the council about it when we return to Gria."

"It was written all over my face, huh…" He muttered, "You're a councilwoman, Dorma? I didn't think you'd be the type to get involved in politics."

"Well, you never seemed like the type to become a pilgrim, either."

"I'm a merchant nowadays."

"Oh dear, that's even worse. Are you quite certain you have the head for it?"

"It's been easy-going, I'll have you know."

"You know how it is with sorcerers, Barion." She sighed, "I can't exactly keep myself hidden from the world like you when I'm using such high-level magic on a day-to-day basis."

"That's true. I feel more comfortable knowing you've got a say in the country's well being, anyway."

"It's all trade disputes and border infringements nowadays. The world wishes to be at peace, it seems. Nothing like how things were when we were expected to do all the work."

"If the Demon we encountered today wasn't the last of its kind, then 'our work' is far from finished, Dorma."

"-And I'm afraid to say that I doubt it was." She continued, "But it begs the question--why would Demonkind hide themselves away for 500 years?"

"Trying to outlast us, I imagine."

"I wish them good luck with that. I can't quite remember exactly how many potions of longevity we drank, but it was certainly more than a millennium's worth."

"Even so, something tells me that isn't quite the true reason…"

"Hm…" The two of them shared a moment of quiet introspection, "For now, we should return to Gria. Let's not be hasty about announcing a Demonic threat to the world until we've uncovered some concrete evidence."

"We'll be taking my wagon back, unless you can summon a gateway large enough for it to fit ."

"Oh, can't we just throw the cargo through? It would be much faster, Barion."

"You've gotten too used to the convenience of magic. Some fresh air will do you good."

"We're already outside! And don't talk to me like a disgruntled father!"