Cassius Lange
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Midnight Bounties 4 - Chapter 37
🕑 Added 2025-08-18 15:00:23 +0000 UTC“Midnights, it’s time to—”
I began ducking under the frame of the entrance to the club. A big mace slammed into my chest and broke apart. I looked down and saw Korvan holding the stump of his weapon both hands. The ogre swallowed.
“Nice one,” I said.
“Brazendan’s fiery balls!” Tyfus snapped and shot up from his chair at the bar.
Tarnia did the same and both began channeling ice spells at the same time. Fey flung her tray and hit me square on the jaw. It clattered to the floor as she jumped over the bar and shot for the storage room where her bow was stashed away. Spif dropped his lyre and vanished into stealth to do…something. Wortimus smacked his chest and stomped his feet.
“Rev, give me the power!” he roared as green energies gathered around his massive fists.
Matis and Pearl unsheathed their swords and daggers, Drogna spat out a mouthful of grits, and Rot cursed the Gods but didn’t move an inch from the bar. Agata’s skin began to steam and Rivian’s to crackle with lightning.
Only Ragul remained as calm as ever.
“Relax,” I said holding up a hand.
Opius came running down the stairs mumbling something to himself.
“Oh,” he said. “Frank, how’s it going.”
All eyes shot towards the vampire druid.
“Frank?” Matis asked.
“It’s me. Calm down.”
A bolt of frost suddenly exploded against my chest, and I sighed, looking at my gnome friend. Tyfus always had to finish his spells.
“Sorry,” he said and cleared his throat. “You know, you should really ask your hairdresser to give you your money back, hah!”
“Funny,” I said flatly.
“What is this?” Wortimus demanded.
“I had to use my demon—” I didn’t finish because an arrow caught me in the wing followed by a light spell to the nose that actually had some punch to it.
“Lady Fey, that will not be necessary,” Ragul said calmly, pushing her drawn bow down with one hand. The Quinta’s eyes were a seething white and runes glowed with a bright yellow across her skin.
“It’s Master Frank.”
“Shoot him again with that light magic thing. It seems to work,” Tyfus said with a chuckle.
“Frank, is it really you?” Fey asked.
“Yes,” I said, cinders spewing from my maw.
Spif suddenly uncloaked between my legs, looking up at me with a quizzical look.
“Where’s your ding-dong? Shouldn’t it be bigger now?”
“Demons don’t have—I really don’t want to get into it. This is my demon form. I had to use it to fight Nergat. Long story short, I didn’t get to kill him so I’m stuck in this form until I do kill something.”
“Hah!” Tyfus laughed. “A dickless demon! What a fitting punishment for your crimes!”
“We don’t have time for this. Listen up, we have to get ready for when shit hits the ceiling.”
“I bet me knows who isn’t going to come any time soon, hah!” Rot laughed and Tyfus almost fell down his stool.
“Gods damn it!” I snapped.
The wooden floor beneath me caught fire and Agata quickly threw a water spell at my feet, extinguishing it immediately.
“Thanks,” I said. “Now listen up, Nergat’s dead and so is the King. The Green Tide and the First have joined forces to protect the city. The Quinta are getting ready to attack. This is probably it. Their main attack is about to start.”
“Gods, I’ve been dreading this moment,” Matis said.
The swashbuckler was a capable fighter, but his greatest talent was avoiding trouble.
“I have to be on the wall to command the forces,” I said, eyeing them all one by one. “I would feel best if you stayed here and waited it all out, but I don’t think—”
“I’m going with you,” Fey said.
“I’m not staying here. I have people to burn,” Tyfus jumped in and Tarnia nodded.
“I’ve been waiting to try these new daggers out,” Pearl grinned, spinning her new weapons in her palms.
“I know,” I said. “I can’t forbid any of you to defend your own home. If the wall falls so will the rest of the city. Which leaves us with only one option, I’m appointing you all as my personal guard.”
“Hah!” Tyfus chuckled. “The fuck does that mean?”
I winked at him.
“Well, I’m the new warlord of the Green Tide and the commander of the First, provisionally that is, but still. With such titles I get to pick my own retinue and who better to fill that role than the Midnight Family, eh?”
“Oh, I’m going to tear up. Hold me, Tarnia,” Tyfus said.
“Master Frank,” Ragul said with an almost angry tone. “It’s still daylight, Opius and I—”
“Will join us as soon as dusk sets in, I have no doubt.”
“Indeed, sir. But the authorities will see that we’re vampires and I don’t know how well they will take that fact.”
“I am the authority, Ragul. And I’m a winged demon. If someone has an issue with you, they can take it up with me.”
“You are so baddass, Frank!” Spif said in awe.
“Very well then,” Ragul said flatly.
“Good,” I said and snapped my fingers.
Wolf strode into the bar, sticking his big tongue out and sniffing the air.
“Gear up, Midnights. Korvan, Matis, Rot, I have something for the three of you.”
I pulled out a flaming blue sword I looted from one of the Imperial Soldiers in Morgefah’s prison and gave it to Matis. The Swashbuckler looked it over with a raised eyebrow.
“Holy shit, Frank. This thing is worth a fortune.”
“Don’t you fucking sell it before the fight, Matis.”
“I wasn’t going to. But you know, the war isn’t going to last forever and—”
“It’s yours to do with as you please,” I said rolling my eyes.
“Here,” I said, handing rot the Praetorian Justice, the golden spear of the Imperial Praetorians was as powerful a weapon as one could find in any high-tier dungeon. The duergar took it, poked the tip with his finger, and bloodied it.
“Sharp thingy, I like it.”
“I know you’re more of a ranged guy, but the stats alone are worth having it.”
“Aye, I’ll poke some proper holes in those golden bastards with this one.”
“And finally, Korvan,” I said and turned to the ogre who was already sound asleep on his talking chair. Not even a the threat of imminent destruction of everything he held dear could shake that one awake. I stuffed my hand into one of the Vaultpacks, pulled out three vials of dayburn, then told Ragul to fill up a mug of moonshine as the others watched me.
I poured the powerful potions into the drink, then slapped Korvan awake. The ogre looked up at me, smacking his dry lips.
“Here, have a drink.”
Korvan emptied the mug and placed it on the table.
“Thanks, boss,” he mumbled and closed his eyes. A moment later, he shot back up.
“What?” he yelled. “What is going on? Where I go? What I do?”
“I never thought I’d live to see the day, sir,” Ragul said. I pulled out Kagon’s Hand from the Vaultpack and pushed it into Korvan’s big fat hand. The giant mace almost looked normal-sized in the ogre’s fist.
“You gave Korvan Castelian’s weapon!” Tarnia roared.
“Someone’s got to wield it.”
As the ogre took the weapon in both hands, he gritted his teeth.
“I must destroy!” he roared, his muscles tensing.
“And you will, Korvan.”
“Argh! Destroy!” he yelled, stomping out the club.
I watched him run up to what little was left of Varyn’s statue and slam the mace against it, pulverizing the poor king’s remains.
“I guess that’s fitting in a way,” Tarnia shrugged. “Let the mace pass from one idiot to the next.”
“Alright then, you fuckers! Armor up. It’s time we defend our home.”
The Midnights rushed around the club, grabbing all the new weapons and armor I had brought from my journey to hell. Matis decked himself out in polished high-tier plate armor with the blue flaming sword in one hand and his rapier in the other. Fey wore her best armor and her ashen bow, but packed another one I looted from Castelian on her back together with two powerful shortswords. She tied her hair into a knot and slapped me on the shoulder as she made her way out. I grabbed her hand as gently as I could in my demon form and leaned down.
“This is your kind we’re fighting, Fey. There might be people in that army you’ll recognize.”
“If you think I’ll hesitate, let me tell you—”
“I know you won’t. I know what they did to you and where your allegiance lies. All I’m saying is that you stay smart. Vengeance is tempting but also blinding. Be careful.”
She rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to seemingly protest, but then stopped herself.
“Alright, I guess you know what you’re talking about.”
I smiled as her words removed some of my worries.
Spif grabbed his lyre and one of the powerful +4 daggers and stuck it into the string on his loincloth. I wished he wore some armor, but the satyr was a small target and he had plenty of tricks in his sleeve that he could count on.
Drogna grabbed a hefty mace and plate armor, then painted her face red with some of the dyes the dancers used on stage. Agata and Rivian didn’t pack any weapons or armor, but I guessed they had enough spells between them and would stay at a safe enough range. Pearl walked out unchanged. She was already wearing the best gear she had. Finally, Wortimus came stomping towards me. He carried no weapon as expected, as his fists were his weapons. However, the large fautar did put on some of the plate armor I offered him and he looked intimidating to say the least. I had never seen a fautar in armor, and I guess nobody else had either. He looked like a plated mountain.
“The Rev,” he began as he stopped in front of me with a worried look.
“Will be happy to see you stay safe, Wort,” I finished.
“Perhaps,” he said and nodded then walked out. Tyfus and Tarnia walked out last. They wore what they always did in their mage robes and hats with their staves on their backs. The gnomes paused in front of me.
“Tarnia’s got something to tell you,” Tyfus said and she rolled her eyes.
“Do I have to?”
“Be nice,” he said, and I raised a curious eyebrow.
“Alright, here it goes,” she muttered and took in a deep breath. “I’ve misjudged you. I thought you were just another power-hungry asshole like Castelian. And to be fair, I’m still not a hundred percent sure you’re not. You’ve looted heaven and hell, killed some important people, spread your dirty fingers across every institution in this city, you took over the military, you command everyone and everything all of a sudden and none of that really makes me confident that—”
“Tarnia!” Tyfus snapped.
“Alright, alright, I was getting to it, duh!” She looked back up at me. “As I was saying, you’re a nightclub owner. And I’ve never met one who wasn’t a filthy little rat. Also, you’re a demon, I don’t have to point out why that isn’t—”
“Woman! Get to the point!” Tyfus groaned.
“Are you going to speak for me, Tyfus?”
“No.”
“Then shut up. As I was saying,” she cleared her throat. “Thank you.”
“Oh, yeah. No worries,” I said.
“There, we good now?”
“We good, Ashbringer.”
The gnomes walked outside, leaving me with Ragul and Opius as the last few people in the club.
“Lock up when you leave, Ragul,” I said with a grin.
“Of course, Master Frank,” Ragul said. “And…Good luck, sir. I will see you on the battlefield.”
I nodded and walked out into the Ashpit where the rest of the Midnights were waiting for me. It was a strange sight to see the square so empty of everyone. There were no orc kids stealing whatever they could get their hands on, no dwarves, humans, slaters, and orcs drinking themselves stupid and fighting.
No sketchy merchants slinging stolen goods, no cloaked thieves snatching those goods and reselling them to the next merchant, no vultures swooping down and grabbing gnomes, nothing. Only the remnants of the Green Tide, broken weapons and armors, simmering forges, and unfinished war machines.
“Frank walks!” my sycophants chanted as I walked out.
“What the fuck is this now?” Tyfus laughed.
“Oh, gods no. Not you again,” Tarnia mumbled. “Castelian is dead, what are you doing here, Steve?”
“Your name is Steve?” I asked the leader of the bunch. “I thought you said you had no name.”
“I don’t. Steve is gone,”
“Steve, come on. You don’t have to do this anymore.”
Steve scoffed, shaking his head.
“You wouldn’t understand. We are sworn to shadow power. It is our purpose. Please don’t make us talk about it anymore. Let us live the way we always have.”
“How long have you been doing this?” I asked.
“We have always done this. We were born to do this. Our order is ancient and…Silent.”
“Oh, gods. You people need a hobby,” Tarnia said.
“Let them be,” I said. “You do what you have to do, Steve or no one, whatever you want to be called.”
“Thank you,” he bowed.
“Just one thing, though, could you change the chant?”
“Change it?” Steve snapped, his face full of sudden horror. “We haven’t changed the chant since ancient—”
“No, not change it completely, just change it from Frank walks to,” I looked around. “Midnight walks, how’s that sound?”
“Uhm,” Steve looked to his fellow sycophants. “I guess…I guess we can do that. Brothers?”
The other black-robed fingers nodded softly.
“Alright then, Midnights,” I said, sighing as black smoke came wafting out my nose. “Time to go to war.”
“Destroy!” Korvan yelled, raising Kagon’s Hand. The ogre, the two gnomes, the satyr, the Quinta, the duergar, the dwarf, the two island elves, the human, the fautar, and their demon leader pulling along his deviltail took to the north.
“Midnight walks!” the chant began.
“Fuck ‘em up!” someone from the surrounding housing yelled.
“Get ‘em good, Midnights!” more voices chimed in.
“The fucking Midnights walk!” a woman’s voice cried out.
“This almost makes you want to die like a hero, doesn’t it, Ty?” I asked my gnome friend as we headed out the square.
“Yeah,” he said. “Almost.”
