Lord of the realm

Chapter 252: Move towards the digsite

"Highseer," her second-in-command called from the front of the formation.

"We’re approaching the reported coordinates. Signs of recent activity."

Andraste moved forward, her boots making no sound despite the forest floor being covered in dry leaves. She’d enhanced her movements with origin energy, making herself lighter, quieter, and faster.

The signs were obvious once she reached the forward position.

Scorched earth, trees burned from the inside out. The acrid smell of demonic presence, sulfur mixed with rot that had no material equivalent.

"They were here," she confirmed.

"Recently. Within the last six hours."

She knelt, placing her palm flat against the scorched ground. Origin energy flowed from her hand, down through her arm, into the earth. She was reading traces, interpreting the residual energy signatures that demons left behind.

"Fifteen of them," she said after a moment.

"Maybe twenty. Armed with conventional weapons, not just claws and dark origin. They’re getting bolder and more organized."

She stood, brushing ash from her hand.

"Combat formation, wide dispersal. They’re likely still in the area, probably watching us right now. Prepare for engagement."

The soldiers moved instantly, spreading out, taking cover behind trees and rocks. Weapons were raised. Origin crystals began to glow as the women channeled energy into combat-ready states.

The men with the supply trucks pulled the vehicles into defensive positions, then retreated to a safe distance. They weren’t combatants. If fighting started, their job was to stay out of the way.

Andraste rose into the air, levitating through origin energy manipulation. From an elevated position, she could see more, coordinate better, and use larger-scale techniques without risking friendly fire.

She raised both hands above her head, and her origin energy blazed like a small sun.

Energy gathered and compressed and shaped into a specific form that she’d practiced thousands of times.

Then she released it.

A massive sphere of pure white light erupted from her position, expanding outward in all directions.

It wasn’t an attack. It was illumination combined with revelation, a technique designed to strip away concealment and force hidden enemies into visibility.

The light washed across the forest, and where it touched, glamours failed. Illusions dissolved. Hiding places became exposed.

And the demons were revealed.

They emerged from shadows that shouldn’t have been deep enough to hide them, from behind trees too narrow to conceal their bulk. Twenty-three of them, humanoid but wrong in ways that made human eyes hurt to perceive them directly.

But these demons wore human clothing. Ragged jeans and torn shirts, mismatched jackets, and boots that looked scavenged from corpses. And they carried weapons—rifles, pistols, and even a few grenades hanging from makeshift belts.

"ENGAGE!" Andraste’s voice carried across the battlefield, amplified by origin energy.

The soldiers opened fire immediately. Not with conventional bullets but with origin-charged projectiles, energy given physical form and launched at velocities that made sound barriers irrelevant.

The demons scattered, returning fire with their stolen weapons. The sound of gunfire echoed through the forest, birds fleeing in panicked flocks, the peaceful woods transforming into a war zone in seconds.

Andraste directed the battle from above, her hands moving in complex patterns that sent lances of white light stabbing down at demon positions. Each lance struck with explosive force, vaporizing targets or scattering groups that had clustered too closely together.

A demon with a rifle aimed upward, targeting her directly. Before it could fire, one of her soldiers channeled energy through her own weapon and sent a cutting beam that severed the demon’s arm at the elbow. It screamed, a sound like grinding metal, and dropped both arm and rifle.

The battle was brutal but brief.

The demons were outnumbered, outmatched, and facing an opponent who’d been fighting their kind for years.

Within ten minutes, all twenty-three were dead or dying.

Andraste descended as her soldiers moved through the battlefield, checking bodies and securing weapons.

"Gather the firearms," she ordered.

"I want every weapon tagged and analyzed. Someone is supplying them, and I want to know who."

Her second-in-command approached with three rifles and a pistol, all of modern manufacture, all showing signs of recent use.

"These are Vaeladrian make," the woman said, examining the markings.

"Military surplus, probably. But how demons are getting them..."

"That we have to find out."

"Someone is selling weapons to demons for profit. We’ve suspected it for months, but this is the first solid evidence."

She took one of the rifles, examining it closely. The serial number had been filed off, but origin energy manipulation could reveal impressions left in the metal’s surface. She’d have her specialists work on it back at base.

"Highseer," another soldier called from the edge of the battlefield.

"We found their camp. Recent occupation. They had supplies, ammunition, and even some food that’s clearly of human origin."

Andraste followed her to the location.

A crude camp, hastily abandoned when her revelation light had exposed them. And among the scattered supplies were ration packs marked with civilian brand names, bottled water, and even a few medical supplies.

"Someone is definitely supporting them," she said.

"Not just weapons. Full logistical support. This is organized, funded, and ongoing."

The war between witches and demons had been raging for over a century now, ever since the first major demon incursion had breached into Evanisckar from whatever hell-realm they originated in. The Covens had been fighting them ever since, an endless grinding conflict that claimed lives on both sides but never quite reached resolution.

But this was new. Demons with modern weapons, with supply lines, with evidence of human collaboration.

That changed everything.

"Pack up everything," Andraste ordered.

"Every weapon, every supply item, every scrap of evidence. We’re taking it all back for analysis. The Council needs to know about this immediately."

Her soldiers moved to obey, carefully cataloging and securing everything they found.

The regrouping point was supposed to be fifteen miles west, at a forward operating base where they’d planned to resupply before continuing their patrol route.

But as Andraste studied her maps, planning the return journey, something caught her attention.

Kreeshan Valley was only eight miles south. And according to recent intelligence reports, there was an archaeological expedition operating there. University-sponsored, civilian, supposedly just geological surveys.

But Andraste’s instincts, honed by a decade of hunting things that hid in shadows, were tingling.

Archaeological dig in a valley known for strange energy signatures. Happening now, when demons were getting bolder, when someone was clearly organizing and funding them.

The timing felt too convenient.

"Change of plans," she announced to her assembled soldiers.

"We’re making a detour. There’s a dig site in Kreeshan Valley, eight miles south. I want to verify it’s legitimate and make sure there’s no demon activity in the area."

Her second-in-command looked surprised.

"Highseer, that’s outside our patrol zone. We’d need authorization to—"

"I’m authorizing it," Andraste interrupted.

She didn’t mention that her real concern was the valley itself. Kreeshan had always registered strange on origin energy scans.

The Rupture scarring, the seismic anomalies, the persistent rumors of strange sightings around the valley.

If demons were getting organized, getting funded, and getting bold, then places like Kreeshan Valley, places where ancient power might be accessible, were exactly where they’d be drawn.

Better to check it out.

"Mount up," she ordered.

"We move in twenty minutes. Standard formation, but stay alert. If demons are in this area, they might have scouted the valley too."

The soldiers and their male support crew prepared to move, packing up the evidence from the battle, checking weapons, and preparing for the march south.

And Andraste stood at the edge of the scorched battlefield, staring in the direction of Kreeshan Valley, feeling the weight of instinct that had kept her alive through a hundred engagements.