HP: Spirit Talker

Chapter 19.2 Battle (Part 2)



When September came, I was stunned by my first real combat. Fortunately, even though the old mummies were completely brain-dead, they had enough sense not to send their children into battle. They put green youngsters like me in a circle, and the experienced fighters took over. It's a bit of a mess. Just a few details.

There were three more attacks, and the clans were ordered to work by the emperor. They have taken the fashion to sit in mansions and intrigue, but only the clerical fighters, the essence, commoners, poorly trained, weak policemen are working. Not warriors, not soldiers.

So the clans were harnessed, areas of responsibility were distributed. And now the information came that there will be an attack on "our" village somewhere in the mountains. What kind of village — I do not know, but my task is to make sure that the bandits do not break out of the encirclement, the civilians will be evacuated by others. And what are people supposed to do in the deep forest when there are roads to the other side, to the people?

So I sit on a gentle slope, under a tree, and listen to the world around me, because it is not very productive to look with the eyes in the forest at night. I am wearing a sturdy overall made of a special fabric, reinforced with leather overlays, colored in "forest" camouflage. A thermal imaging camera would be very useful, but even a weak discharge of raw magic won't burn, but it will interfere with complex electronics.

 I was given a Glock-17 with a few extra magazines, a combat tsurugi, and a pack of universal seals. That's about it. No. A standard first aid kit, a soup pack, a small flashlight and a knife, all on the belt. And a compact walkie-talkie and a hands-free headset. I've shot a pistol before, though not very much, but I've been trained in the use of firearms. It's good to know that Japan, despite its fantasies, has some common sense. But if anything, I rely more on the sword.

Ordinary bullets cause little trouble to mages, and only annoyance to non-humans. But a spiritual sword is different, especially if you know how to use it — to saturate it with power, to control the elements. The sword that was handed out was of poor quality, of course, but it was better than ordinary steel.

The dark night, the sound of the forest, the silence. Nothing interesting. But if you're a mage and have the disposition and skills, there's a lot to consider. The very first thing that caught my eye was the large number of spirits of varying strength in this forest. Here and there, here and there, now and then flickering ghostly lights of different colors, important floating "clouds of mist" — somewhat stronger entities. But the more time passes, the more noticeable is the movement of the spirits — away from the village. It's strange...

I look thoughtfully at the coiled thread of the rosary on my wrist. The Earth Spirit helped me polish this rosary of 33 smooth stones, not using the best sapphires I could find. Well, I couldn't help myself — to have such wealth and not use it. A slight enchantment of the thread for strength and protection against loss.

I was sitting, listening, running my fingers over the stones, when suddenly the passing ghosts rushed sharply to the side, and in a moment, at a dozen meters from me, three silhouettes flashed. As I rose to my feet, I noticed five more following the first two.

This is a breakthrough! I can't defeat eight of them if I want to, but following them is the right thing to do. I can't send word to the others either — such an orderly magical surge is easy for an experienced magician to sense, and if you're an Ayakashi or a Yokai who literally breathes magic, it's not even possible. But how do I catch up? I'm running too slow with my own power, and I can feel them easily pulling away from me despite my current physical limitations.

 Well, there's no other way. I let go of controlling the magic and it begins to flow through my body with a pleasant chill.

I immediately accelerated noticeably, and the sweat that had begun to appear was gone. Also, hundreds of new smells came into my nose, which I had not smelled before because of the technique of concealing magic (all magic in the body is taken under constant control, folded in the core, with no exit not only outside, but also inside the body, from which some natural abilities are "switched off"), and my vision became clearer, as if dusty glass had been wiped. The runners weren't even trying to hide their tracks... no... rather, the first three were running carefully, but the ones following them were just rushing forward, tearing off leaves and breaking small twigs. What's going on here?

— I frown involuntarily. — If this group was hiding from pursuit, then everyone was moving carefully like the first three, but it's not like the first three were being pursued... hmmm... that doesn't make sense...

I felt myself shortening the distance, and then one of the Ayakashi died, clearly felt by the sudden release of natural forces, the painful cry of a spirit leaving for rebirth. Listening to my senses, I sniffed. The trail was clearly distinguishable, and there were nine nonhumans left... I don't understand, there were only eight?

Approaching a hundred meters again, I concealed the magic to the level of the natural background, and the recent death of a child of nature (I did not feel in the departed spirit defilement of evil deeds, madness) disturbed the background, and I was not noticed.

Getting closer was surprisingly easy, I looked into a small clearing and what I saw there was definitely not to my liking. Four men surrounded four of them, and one of them was waving a bloody blade — a common, inexpensive katana — in front of those who were frozen in defense. A very young man lies literally at the feet of the armed creature, and a light smoke rises from his wounds.

There are no people in the clearing, though they look the same, but that doesn't mean I don't care, because a young man is frozen in the surrounding area, grinning small fangs, covering a young woman with two children in her arms. The children are about four or five years old, but the mother easily holds them in her arms — non-human nature is stronger than human nature.

The children cry softly, but do not move, do not distract the mother, who also bared her fangs and let out her tail and ears. Cats. And who's there? Drawing air with my nose... not enough... opening my mouth, tasting the smells... understandable. Two serpent people, a lizard, an orc, and two strange mixtures of unclear nature, an orc with a sword is the leader... and all stink of the foul, rotten spirit of animal madness.

— Hrah, hrah, hrah! — is the laughter of the orc. — Did you think this weakling could defeat me? THAT WEAKLING? — The orc raged, waving his sword and baring his triangular fangs, his image "floated" slightly, his skin became lighter, small spikes appeared on his neck and head, his hands became coarse and enlarged. — It is not for you, you filthy little thing, to compete with my power! You should have died obediently, not resisted! Instead, you will see how my friends will devour your freaks piece by piece, while you are still alive... Hrah-rah-rah! — The orc laughed again at the bared fangs, the pinned ears and the threatening hissing of the adult cats.

In the next moment, what I had prepared for the whole tirade of the mad animal happened...


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