"Multiple fishermen reported, that a tornado split from the Sea of Storms. They last spotted it heading towards the mountains. I advise..." An abrupt bang on the gates silenced the frail elderly kobold.
His long ears trembled as the wrinkled head turned towards the throne room's entrance. I rushed there and felt the Demon Lord's gaze burn my back. A disheveled goblin messenger, way older than me requested entry out of breath, but he held the Shaman's Seal.
"The Princess left Nordhaben, my Lord!" He reported on his knees. He bowed to the massive throne and as customary, averted his gaze from the majestic creature. He struggled to talk and must have rushed all this way to bring the news. "She set out on foot two days ago... Only two guards of the Inquisitorias... They travel lightly... Now about a day's walk from the Cyreneian pass..."
"She's en route to the old capital. The fools... But this means a great opportunity for Us." The deep laughter of the Demon Lord filled the throne room; even the pillars trembled. "Did the informant contact you directly? Any other details about them?"
"Yes, my Lord, but this is all we know so far..." The messenger bowed his head again. "I still wait for our spies to confirm the information..."
"There is no time for that, news travels slowly over such distances and We must act now!" He announced, and without missing a beat, gave me the order. "Dioneras! Ride with the Twelve Champions, and intercept them! If they throw away their only hand against Us, it would be impolite not to thank them. Capture the Princess, and bring her back alive! The rest is up to you. We don't care about the other two..."
"Yes, my Lord!" I kneeled too. The creatures that filled the huge throne room started to get noisy. From goblins and kobolds to giants and ogres, all representatives of the Lesser Races gathered here. They also felt that something big happened. With mixed feelings to be a part of it, pride and fear made my heart race.
"Once the royal blood of Cranta is in Our hands, the whole continent will be at Our mercy. This will certainly paralyze the Inquisitorias." The Demon Lord claimed, his words met with cheers. "It might be even time, that We became a True God! They won't be able to oppose Us anymore!"
He monologued while his twelve-foot-tall stature easily overshadowed even the largest creature. Like us, mere mortals under his guidance, not even the torchlight could reach his face, shrouded in darkness. Only his eyes glowed crimson, his feet sharply driven into the ground. His brute strength shook the whole throne room.
"We will be the Lesser Races no more!" He yelled theatrically and all the shamans chanted the same in unison. The rest erupted into a crazed cheer.
The Twelve Champions swiftly emerged from the crowd to line up behind me. They all brandished a murderous arsenal of weapons and armor but dropped to their knees. Orcs, beastman, hobgoblins, and ogres... Even some undead abominations in their ranks. To be their captain as a mere goblin meant the greatest honor I received. People considered them the best of the best and they itched for action. The orc witch with a wide grin kneeled closest to me.
The current team consisted mostly of fighters, but they remained undefeated. They rarely fought, since large-scale troop movements exceeded what the continent's current leaders afforded. They protected our people, even if someone just uttered their names. I felt pride as their Captain, owning part in their great achievements. Not a fighter myself, but still referred to as the Thirteenth Champion, I became part of the elite of the New Order.
I marched them out in a tight formation with a single motion of the Demon Lord's hand. The crowd followed us into the narrow streets with cheers, all the way to the beast's stables. The stablemasters prepared our wyverns for us, who instilled fear even in the other monsters, and the people quickly thinned out. I gave out my orders to the Champions.
"Fang rides on the right flank, Bastion will be at the front with me."
"Come on, let me lead the vanguard instead." The orc witch tried to bargain, flanked by a hobgoblin, and an undead. "A strategist should not lead from the first row anyway. I want to test my strength at last."
"We won't fly into battle." I noted, rather wary of her motivations. She seemed too green for this, with no experience in battle, but more than enough ambitions to cause trouble. They knew no bounds, but I gave her a role, where she might test herself. "I need you to lead the rearguard, Omerta. If anything happens, you take charge and make the calls. I'll count on you!"
"As you wish." Her smile did not seem genuine. It upset me since she gave in fast this time, too fast to be honest. I only hoped she did not plot something... The rest of the Champions raised no objections so I outlined them a simple formation. The stablemaster and his henchmen worked fast, I couldn't examine our rides.
Their long flexible necks and tails, looked like enormous pythons on wings, both their huge talons and razor-sharp teeth venomous and they rivaled those of the feral dragons in size. Long spikes grew along their spines. They thinned out near the roots of their necks, where the saddles were fastened.
Their rough, cold skin resembled the lizard's, and colors ranged from light green to dark yellow and orange, as they varied in age and size. The darker the tone, the stronger they usually became. They grew massive enough to carry even the largest ogres into battle and with my small stature, I looked like a flea riding on a bald eagle.
But even if giants carried me on their shoulders I steered them towards greatness. Everyone knew their place and acted according to their talents, and capabilities. I mentally prepared myself for the task, feeling rusty since we didn't move out like this for a while.
"Beware of the witch." The beastman told me as he passed by. We fought side by side for the longest time and he saved my life more than once. His insights usually turned out correct. An invaluable ally, and an old friend. "She might want your position, while we're out there, on our own."
"She sure does, Fang, but we need her." I nodded. Omerta joined us recently, but she wielded tremendous power and backing from different places. "She's our only caster since Exagus retired, but make sure we split her followers evenly among the ranks."
Fang bowed, and minutes later our beasts finished the preparations. Our formation took to the skies without delay and the cold Ghell fortress shrunk quickly below us. I felt glad I got the chance to leave, it might have been safe, but isolated too. My deputy complained nonstop about the strain it put on our logistics, and it bored me to waste my days here.
Our mounts gave chase to the dark clouds in the distance, and effortlessly achieved speeds considered impossible a few years back. Before Fang's attempt, nobody ever tried to tame a wyvern, the top of any food chain, even over giant monsters.
A mile in a minute did not cause them issues and they kept it up for hours at a time, which helped us in this important quest. Whatever the Inquisitorias planned, I wanted to strike them before they achieved it. This left no room for errors or failure.
Ominous smokestacks obscured the view beyond the mountain ranges, risen from the twin volcanoes. Dubbed the Gates of Hell, these active peaks marked the end of all human civilizations. Not even the Empire of Cranta expanded beyond them, not that there was anything to rule over here. Before the establishment of the Ghell fortress, this place remained empty. People called the continent's southern tip Hell for a reason, cold, barren, and jagged with mountains.
If the Demon Lord hadn't sought a place to hide from the Inquisitorias, and to organize his New Order here, this peninsula would have remained forever untouched. Thanks only to his massive magical powers the fortress city became somewhat liveable. The fishermen lived in constant danger though, since the Sea of Storms hugged us from three sides. I felt sick of fish at this point, which made up most of our diet.
But if our mission became successful and the Demon Lord no longer had to hide from the Inquisitorias, we'd return to the vast plains and fertile lands of the old Empire. The prospect of meat, fruits, and other foods made me impel my wyvern even faster.
I flew north and dreamed about my future meals, without a doubt that those three would not put up a fight against my men. Even a smaller army could not stand up to the combined strength of the Twelve Champions under my lead. They would not slow down for a True God or even a tornado but I didn't want to jinx it. Our formation already scattered and I had to yell my lungs out to reach them.
"Rise to about three thousand feet!" I gave the order, and the rest forwarded it. I envied Omerta's ability to use telepathy but I refused to rely on it too much, even if we didn't bring crows with us this time.
The wyverns flew almost as fast, while they carried us. They became strong and smart, I even slept in the saddle before. Without them, the Ghell fortress couldn't operate either.
I leaned on our wyvern's sense of direction, no matter how high we flew, the clouds and the smoke swallowed us. This high up the air became thinner and made it harder to think straight, but with my daydream about all the meals I'll eat in the future, I was motivated to press on. A little smoke could not slow us down.
No, I felt confident, no jinxing it, nothing could stand against us. Thirteen wyverns alone could destroy smaller cities, without us doing anything and the champions faced armies, and still won.
Three humans from the Inquisitorias, unless they all held the rank of saints, couldn't hope to stand against us. Even as my brain starved for air, I felt sure about our victory. The odds heavily favored us, and I couldn't think of anything to worry about.
How often do you encounter a god or a tornado in the mountains? Even natural phenomena seemed to avoid this hellish landscape...