Rise of the Devourer
Book 4: Chapter 31 — Spirit Rampage

The trio landed hard in a narrow alleyway between two of the buildings outside the palace. The space was barely ten feet wide, hemmed in by walls of weathered stone that rose three stories on either side. Barrels and crates were stacked against the walls, and the air carried the scent of cooking spices—they’d probably arrived behind a restaurant—mixed with the metallic tang of blood from their recent battle.

Moonlight filtered down through the gap between buildings, casting everything in the same eerie silver that had marked the eclipse. The alley was mercifully empty—perhaps because most people would have already begun to flee and hide, due to the eclipse. Refuse littered the ground, and puddles of water reflected the chaotic stars in the sky.

Noah looked from the corner of the alleyway, witnessing the sheer chaos the eclipse-darkened kingdom spread out in front of them was experiencing. Fires burned in multiple districts, while strange lights moved through the streets—more cultists and their supernatural allies, no doubt. The undead dragon's roar echoed again from the distant mountains, a sound that promised even greater horrors to come.

Noah's metamorphosis began to fade, the enhanced muscles and hardened skin returning to normal as his body reached its limits. The transformation left him feeling drained but clear-headed, his enhanced senses still picking up the sounds of pursuit from within the palace. His white hair was matted with sweat and blood, both his own and that of their enemies.

"Where now?" Erwest asked. His holy sword still glowed with residual divine energy, ready to be called upon again at a moment's notice.

Aurelia leaned against the alley wall, her flames dimmed but still flickering around her hands. The berserker's aura of ash and ember had settled into a low burn, her body ready for action despite the exhaustion that was setting in. "We need to find the others," she said, her voice tight with concern. "Seraphina, Valeria, Snow, Kaelan—if the cultists had been targeting us specifically..."

As they moved deeper into the city—he used his Arcane Step whenever his mana recovered enough to move them alleyway to alleyway—the true scope of the disaster became horrifyingly clear. The Watcher's Night had arrived with the eclipse, and its malevolent influence was driving the draconian population mad. What had once been a peaceful kingdom was now a war zone where reason had fled and primal madness reigned supreme.

The massive city walls, normally impregnable barriers that had stood for centuries, were under siege from within and without. Twisted creatures—things that had once been harmless city dwellers—now scaled the stonework with inhuman agility. Their forms were wrong, elongated and distorted by the Watcher's influence, with too many joints and limbs that bent in impossible directions.

At the wall's base, palace guards tried desperately to maintain order, but their formation was crumbling. Noah watched in horror as a guard captain, his draconian heritage normally granting him supernatural composure, began laughing maniacally as he swung his sword in wild arcs. The man's eyes had taken on a silver sheen that reflected the eclipse's light, and his mouth was stretched in a rictus grin that showed too many teeth.

"The madness is spreading," Erwest said grimly, "The Watcher's influence grows stronger with each passing moment. This Watcher’s Night… it is stronger than most I’ve seen."

“Shit,” was all Noah could say, in response.

The main thoroughfares were chaos—buildings burned while their occupants either fled in terror or stood paralyzed by visions that only they could see. Lunar spirits drifted through the main roads like malevolent fog, their ethereal forms hunting for life energy to drain.

The screaming—actual, human screaming—started three blocks from the palace.

Noah's enhanced perception picked up the sounds first—a mixture of terror and pain that spoke of civilians in mortal danger. Following the noise, they rounded a corner to find a scene of absolute horror. A group of lunar spirits had cornered a family of draconians in a small market square, their ethereal tendrils reaching out to drain the life from their victims.

The family consisted of what appeared to be parents and two young children, all pressed against the wall of a baker's shop. The father, a middle-aged man with the bronze scales typical of lower class draconians, was trying to shield his family with his body. His wife clutched their children—a boy who couldn't be more than ten and a girl even younger—while tears streamed down her face.

But it was the spirits themselves that made Noah's blood run cold. These weren't the relatively simple wisps they had fought in the palace. These were larger, more complex entities that retained distorted echoes of their former humanity. One had the vague shape of a woman in a flowing dress, but her face was a void of swirling moonlight. Another resembled a knight in armor, but where his chest should have been was a gaping hole that revealed stars that hurt to look at directly.

"Help us!" the father called out desperately, his voice cracking with fear. "Please, someone help us!"

Noah didn't hesitate.

Reality folded around him as he teleported directly into the middle of the spirit formation. His runic chains materialized instantly, the links blazing with dark fire as they lashed out at the nearest spirit. The chain wrapped around the knight-spirit's neck and body, the runic inscriptions flaring as they began to disrupt its ethereal form and he began to absorb the spirit’s energy.

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But the spirit was stronger than those they had faced before. Instead of immediately dissipating, it let out a bone-chilling laugh and reached out with gauntleted hands that passed through Noah's chains to grasp at his throat. Where the spectral fingers touched, frost began to form, and Noah felt his own life force being drained away.

He summoned Valkyrie’s Call once again, channeling power through his spear. The weapon's crimson blade erupted with scarlet fire, and he drove it forward into the spirit's chest. The combination of void energy and Valkyrie magic proved effective—the spirit shrieked and began to unravel, its form collapsing in on itself.

Meanwhile, Aurelia had engaged the woman-spirit, her berserker abilities fully activated. Her flames might not be able to directly harm the ethereal beings, but they did seem to be able to disrupt their ability to drain life energy. She moved with inhuman speed, positioning herself between the spirit and the family while her aura of ash and ember created a barrier of flames.

"Stay back!" she called to the family, her voice carrying the authority of someone used to having to command. "Don't let them touch you!"

The woman-spirit glided forward, her void-face tilting in what might have been curiosity. Ethereal tendrils reached out toward Aurelia, but the berserker's flame intensified before—Aurelia’s face scrunched up as she did this—the flames turned an intense blood red, causing the tendrils to recoil. The spirit hissed in frustration, a sound like wind through a graveyard, and began to circle around looking for an opening.

Aurelia matched its movement, her enhanced reflexes allowing her to stay between the spirit and the civilians. But she was fighting a defensive battle, unable to truly harm her opponent while the spirit could potentially drain her life if it found an opening.

That's when Erwest—finding an opening—arrived like divine wrath made manifest to break the stalemate.

"By Hellion's holy light!" the paladin shouted, his sword blazing with pure white fire as he brought it down in a powerful overhead strike. The holy energy didn't just disrupt the woman-spirit—it purified her, the twisted essence unraveling to reveal a brief glimpse of the person she had once been before the corruption took hold.

But more spirits were materializing from the shadows, drawn by the life energy of the terrified family. Noah counted at least six more, their forms ranging from barely visible wisps to fully manifested entities that looked like parodies of living beings.

"There are too many!" Erwest called out, his holy magic flaring as he engaged two spirits simultaneously. His sword work was precise and efficient, each strike calculated to maximize the purifying effect of his divine energy, but he was being forced to give ground.

Noah's bit his lip. They were outnumbered, the spirits were stronger here in the open where moonlight could reach them, and they had civilians to protect.

He summoned Bloodwyrm Swarm, manifesting dozens of spectral serpents that erupted from his position like a crimson hurricane. The wyrms tore through the spirit ranks with savage efficiency, their ethereal fangs disrupting the lunar entities' cohesion once more. Bloodwyrm Swarm was a risk worth taking in the current situation, even if his healing would slow down due to it.

At the same time, he began channeling Void Annihilation through his spear, the weapon's tip blazing with destructive force. Each thrust created small tears in reality, and the spirits' forms began to waver as the fundamental laws of existence became unstable around them.

One particularly large spirit—something that had once been a city guard based on its vague uniform—tried to flank him. Noah spun with fluid grace, his runic chains whipping around to entangle the entity's legs while his spear thrust forward to pierce its core. The combination of void energy and binding magic proved devastatingly effective, the spirit's form collapsing into wisps of dissipating moonlight.

Aurelia had found a new strategy. While her flames couldn't directly harm the spirits, they could superheat the air around them, creating thermal barriers that disrupted their movement. She moved around the remaining spirits, her berserker abilities allowing her to maintain the energy-intensive technique while staying mobile.

The air around her burst into a swirling maelstrom of superheated particles, and the spirits found themselves unable to maintain cohesion in the thermal chaos.

Erwest took advantage of the distraction, his holy magic blazing as he moved from spirit to spirit with methodical precision. His sword work was a thing of beauty—each strike perfectly timed and positioned to maximize the purifying effect of his divine energy. Where his blade passed, the corrupted souls found peace at last.

The battle was intense but brief. Within a dozen seconds, the last of the spirits had been either destroyed or purified, their forms dissipating into motes of light that faded into the eclipse-darkened sky.

Noah let out a sigh, and turned towards the draconians. “Are you okay?”

"Y—Yes. Thank you," the draconian father said, his voice shaking with relief as he pulled his family closer. "We thought we were going to die."

"Are you injured anywhere?" Erwest asked, his paladin training making him automatically check for injuries. The family seemed physically unharmed, though they were clearly traumatized by the experience—who wouldn’t be?

"We're fine," the mother said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But the city... What's happening to our city?"

Before Noah could answer, another voice cut through the night air. "All of you need to come with me. Now."

They turned to see a figure approaching from the shadows—a draconian woman in her thirties with wings, her movements careful and deliberate. She wore the practical clothing of a merchant or trader, but her movements betrayed that she had received some form of combat training.

"Who are you?" Noah asked, readying his spear.

"My name is Lyra," she said, her voice urgent but calm. "I'm here on behalf of Valros. He sent me to find you and your companions and bring you to safety, Noah."

The family perked up at the mention of Valros's name. "Royal Captain Averos’ brother?" the father asked. "Is he helping civilians?"

"Something like that," Lyra said. "But we need to move. The streets aren't safe, and there are more spirits converging on this area. The safehouse isn't far, but we need to go now."

Noah exchanged glances with his companions. They had little choice—alone in a city going mad, hunted by both guards and cultists, they couldn’t exactly just keep roaming around aimlessly. And Valros was Kaelan's uncle, so considering he was sending someone to help them, he should be trustworthy—and might have answers about what was really happening.

"Lead the way," Noah said grimly.