Seventh Realm Part 1: A LitRPG Fantasy series (The Ten Realms Book 8)

by Michael Chatfield

  “Bad?” Wazny’s chest tightened, familiar faces flashing by.

  “Four wounded, one dead. Aida.”

  Wazny and the other pilots winced. Their unit was a small one. They had just been training together in the last few months.

  Sullivan nodded. There was nothing else he could offer.

  “Get them prepped for flight, and head up with them. Once they’re good to go, report back. Either your people will be in the air or you’ll pick them up here.”

  “You got it, Boss.”

  Sullivan walked away, leaving them to it.

  “What have you heard?” Wazny asked.

  “Two eyes on the ground and four on the sky,” Captain Vesik, leader of the sparrow wing said. “They’re using spells and aerial forces against us. Stay as high as you can, then dive to bombing level. Drop your load and back up into the heavens.

  “They keep their casters under mana barriers and they’re getting better at hitting us out of the sky. If you do another pass, coming in from a different angle, vary it. Hit them lengthways, then cut off the end of their lines and get going. The longer you attack one target, the greater the chance of getting hit. Also, they’ve taken a fancy to spell scrolls which can really fuck up the skies. Watch out for that shit. You feel mana building, put on the speed and fuck off.”

  The pilots nodded.

  “Okay, let’s get going. I’ll lead the first, then we’ll AAR. Vesik, take the second; we’ll do the same. Then I’m just along for the ride and to bomb some fucks.” Wazny clapped his hands together.

  “Your AO, your call.” Vesik held out his pinky and thumb, shaking his hand.

  “Appreciate it,” Wazny said.

  He led them to the aerial beast masters. The sparrows were energetic and ready to fly; their stores of ammunition had been reloaded and prepped.

  Wazny climbed into his cockpit. Support staff checked to make sure that he was secure and that the emergency spell scrolls were ready.

  In the event of emergency, pull on the red silk to activate spell scroll. Wazny repeated the lines from his training, checking his controls.

  He scratched the sparrow he was on, getting a chipper sound from the war beast. He smiled a little before focusing.

  The sparrows flitted forward, half-stepping, half-flapping their wings out of the hangars.

  Wazny pulled on the cocking handle, readying his twin repeaters.

  The sparrow wing, all eight of them, moved to the acceleration platforms. The sparrows gripped onto recesses in the ground.

  Vesik went through the takeoff procedure before the formation activated.

  The sparrows hopped and spread their wings, flapping them as the formation’s power increased.

  Wazny’s stomach was forced into the back of his spine as they caught the air and pushed into the path of the other acceleration formations, climbing up and into the pitch-black night sky. As the speed decreased, he found he could breathe again.

  The acceleration slowed as the sparrows glided, their heads twitching from side to side, taking in the change of location.

  Wazny’s goggles picked up on the special bands that had been added to the sparrow’s legs, allowing him and the others to find one another without alerting the enemy of their position.

  Vesik talked to flight control.

  “Looks like we have our target.” Vesik pinged his map, linked to the rest of them.

  Wazny looked at the map, checking the elevations of the surrounding mountains.

  “I’m thinking that we come in from the southeast. Ride low and dirty, come over the mountains as fast as we can, and start dropping as soon as we clear them and bank off to the west. I don’t like how closed in the area is there. Target rich, but they could have more mages in there.”

  “We’ll follow your lead.”

  “Okay.” Wazny checked his position against the target and altered his direction. The wing rose higher, accompanied by only the creaking of their wooden cockpits and the flapping of their sparrows’ wings.

  Wazny checked his gear and the map. He couldn’t see the other wings, though he thought he saw a few of the identifying bands on kestrel or sparrow legs.

  “Nice and high up here,” Vesik said through the sound transmission device.

  “Altitude is our friend. Kind of peaceful,” Wazny said.

  “I just get antsy. Want to get in there, get the job done, and get the hell out.”

  Wazny snorted. “Don’t worry. We’ll be there sooner than you think, and it’ll be over faster than the first time you met your wife.”

  “Shit, it was a solid second!”

  “Hah! What was it, self-serve?”

  “I was satisfied.”

  “Fuck.” Wazny shook his head, grinning.

  Time went by slowly until they were nearly there.

  “All right, wake up you lot,” Vesik said.

  Wazny checked his map. “Get ready to dive.”

  The wind was with them, their mounts only needing to flap a few times to keep them aloft.

  Wazny contracted his muscles, getting the blood flowing, ready for what came next.

  “Once we’re over the mountains, three seconds drop, ten seconds climb, and bank to the left. Got it?”

  “Over the mountains, three seconds drop, ten seconds climb, bank to the left,” they repeated.

  “Good, let’s do this. Follow me and maintain spacing.”

  Wazny’s mount tilted forward. The speed picked up as his sparrow kept them level. Wazny scanned the ground for life and watched their position on the map. He felt the air fighting him as his mount caught it and leveled off. They were silent as death, riding on invisible waves of air. He saw the ridgeline ahead. There was light on the other side from its occupants.

  He looked across the sky for aerial beasts. “Here we go!”

  Wazny and the rest of the wing passed over the mountains silently. Their speed caused the trees at the top of the ridgeline, just tens of meters below, to shift and shake. The ridge disappeared to reveal fighters pushing through the crater-like valley to the forest beyond. Even at night, they were pushing ahead. They had light formations and fires to guide them.

  “One dungeon lord, two dungeon lord, three dungeon lord. Release!” Wazny and the rest of the wing released their bombs, sending them tumbling out.

  “One dungeon lord, two dungeon lord… Ten dungeon lord.”

  Wazny stopped the flow of bombs and banked; the rest of the wing followed.

  Their sparrows flapped wildly, gaining altitude and regaining speed as the first bombs reached the ground. Force was converted and amplified into fire spells that tore apart the shell, sending shrapnel and dirt in every direction. Like a rock skipping across the ground, the bombs fell one after another, tearing the forest and valley apart.

  Firebombs drew in air greedily as they spread through the valley.

  “Welcome to Vuzgal Valley, mother fuckers! I hope you enjoy the stay!”

  Wazny and the group disappeared into the night. “Watch for aerial beasts. They could launch them after we hit them.”

  They didn’t see anything as the adrenaline faded in their veins.

  “Captain Vesik, next one is all yours.”

  “I have the feeling it’s going to be a long night.”

  Rugrat and the special team were the first into the opening, clear of trees. In the distance, flashes of spells and explosives marked the enemy’s advance. Rugrat blinked, his eyes filled with mana as he looked to the skies.

  “Clear!” He lowered his repeater, casting a spell. The covered ground cleared, revealing new pre-set mortar pits.

  “Fan out, defensive positions. Second Lieutenant Couto, we’re clear up here.”

  “On the move.”

  Rugrat and the rest of the special teams got comfortable and adjusted their positions to cover the others.

  Couto and his people arrived a few minutes later. They broke into squads with mechanical precision. They drew out mortars which hadn’t been g
iven the chance to cool in their storage rings. Mages set to cooling the guns as the gunner and first ammunition bearer sighted the weapon. The second ammunition bearer readied everything else in the pit while the squad leaders held a conference through the platoon channel, checking their position and range cards.

  “We have two groups in range. They’re both spread out in the forests. We will target the group to our northwest. Grid square one-three-three-two. Confirm target.” Couto paused as squad leaders checked their maps.

  “Confirm target at grid square one-three-three-two,” the squad leaders relayed back.

  “Chain lightning rounds, fuse to air burst formations. Spell: Lightning Enhance,” Couto ordered.

  “Lightning rounds, air burst fuse, lightning enhance!” a squad leader near Rugrat called out.

  The second ammunition bearer pulled out the rounds. Their dark grey body was covered in formations that crackled with power. They unscrewed the round’s nose and replaced it with formation carved fuses.

  The gunner and first ammunition bearer had set the gun. The heat dissipating blocks slid back down along the barrel, covered in a cold wind from the mage’s hands.

  The squad leader moved beside the gunner and ammunition bearer with his map in hand.

  “This is our target. Heavy forest cover. Our target area is one-three-zero, three-two-four to one-three-five, three-two-six. We’ll move from the southwest corner serpentine up to the northeast. Got it?”

  “Got it.” The two nodded.

  “Good.” The squad leader pulled out the range card and checked his map, studying it with his team.

  Rugrat flexed his shoulders and studied the area.

  The mortar crews changed their elevation and traverse, some re-sighting their guns so they could cover their two-hundred by five-hundred-meter squares, breaking down their one-kilometer-wide target grid square.

  The cooling blocks rang out with metal hitting metal. The mage waved his hands; the cooling spell dissipated.

  “Mortar Squad One Three ready!”

  The squad leaders radioed into Couto.

  “Have your second ammunition bearer ready. Arm and then dump them to your mages. Let’s hammer the bastards. Fire when ready!”

  The second ammunition bearer dumped their ready rounds into the mage’s storage rings and continued to ready more mortars.

  “Been some time since I did this,” the mage said. The formation under his feet glowed while his spell covered the round. He passed the now-live round to the first ammunition bearer.

  “What, a whole two months? Hang!”

  “Fire!”

  Conversation was ripped away as ten mortars fired, lighting up the night and sending their payloads skyward.

  Mages pulled out the rounds, checked them, and cast their spells, passing them to the first ammunition bearer. They dropped and ducked as the mortars fired one after another, recoiling and filling the air with tiny rings.

  Rugrat checked his linked map. The mortar crew had fired three rounds before the first landed. Red markers disappear, while others remained in a semi-circle.

  Barrier must have stopped the chain lightning.

  He checked the area around his position. No fast movers coming for us yet. Should be dawn in a few hours. Day four.

  35

  Redeploy

  Marco watched as Leonia rode up to him with her own group of guards, fading back as his own guards made a hole for her.

  “What is the situation?” Marco demanded.

  “The enemy has been using different attacks. These don’t make a noise before they strike. They explode at head height and release chain lightning that jumps from metal to metal, killing anyone wearing armor or carrying weapons. The northwestern force is getting hit hard, but no less than us. Spell traps cover the ground.”

  “We lost nearly half of the force to death and injuries. It is more than I expected. They will not be able to bear it again.”

  Mana barriers powered up as the mana in the area fluctuated. Soldiers ran in every direction. It looked like panic, but they quickly started casting spells, raising the ground to create defenses. Others drew out formation plates and placed them down, powering them up.

  Dirt, stone, and trees weaved together into rising walls, creating several defensive structures.

  The first teleportation formation flashed as dozens of fighters appeared. The mages waved them off as they looked around in surprise.

  Drums beat as the forces gathered in a coordinated move. The camp followers separated from the fighters, clearing away into two clear groups.

  Marco used his sound transmission device. “Gather your fighters and we will charge forward. Use spells to clear a path!”

  The teleportation formations flashed with increasing regularity. Dozens quickly turned into hundreds as fighters poured out of the rising defenses.

  A horn bellowed and the Willful Institute’s people moved forward. Leonia turned her mount with Marco.

  Spells blasted into the ground, tearing it apart and destroying any traps that might have laid there. The ground was then leveled and smoothed, creating a road as powerful mages wove their spells from their mounts.

  Beasts gathered speed as the stalled formations surged once more. Sects organized into their own fighting forces and charged. Reinforcements streamed out of the teleportation formations, joining the charge.

  Aerial beasts unlimbered their wings as they soared into the open skies.

  The roar of lost frustrations tore from thousands of throats as they cleaved a path toward their enemy.

  Good luck, Teacher Medina. I hope we don’t beat you to Vuzgal.

  Marco watched the aerial beasts wheel away, heading toward the whistling attack sites. He allowed himself a smile, feeling the power of his mount, seeing the forward charge.

  Momentum was on their side once again!

  “Cease fire! Aerial forces coming in. Prepare to retreat!” Couto yelled.

  The mortar squads released their last rounds and threw their gear into their storage rings. The CPD teams grabbed their repeaters, scanning the skies.

  Rugrat checked his map. “Shit! There have to be fifty or so aerial fighters.”

  “Fucking awesome.” Han Wu checked his repeater. “How’d they get so many people?”

  Rugrat opened the map some more. “Oh fuck, they’re making a couple of new castles. They must have snuck teleportation formations up!”

  Spell formations appeared in the sky as the first of the mortar teams jumped on the back of their mounts at the mouth to the covering.

  Meteors shot out of the sky, striking their mana barrier, and making everyone duck as the barrier took the impact. The shock wave left a clean line on the ground around the barrier, tossing trees away, clearing the hillside, and opening the sky.

  Spell formations appeared in the hands of the aerial mages as they unleashed beams that raked the artillery platoon’s mana barrier.

  Rugrat cast flak shot on his arrows as he aimed and fired his repeater.

  Magical attacks mixed with repeater bolts in mid-air.

  “Fire!”

  A squad of Alvan mages unleashed their own firepower. The air shifted around them as birds made of still air shot out of their spell formations. Their razor lines detonated spells and slammed into the mana barrier covering the aerial riders, outlining the barrier.

  The two close protection details and the special team fired into the sky. The barrier became a darker sheet of rolled glass.

  “Fire!” The second squad released fiery spears from their revolving spell formations like war ballista.

  The riders were diving and turning away.

  They didn’t expect such a counterattack.

  The fire spears shattered the mana barrier.

  Rugrat’s bolts passed the limit of what had been the barrier. With a twist of magic, he activated his spells. Air blades cut through his targeted mount and rider.

  He fired bursts of bolts that swept across the sky like wh
ips, reaching out to meet the aerial forces.

  “Fire!” The first mage squad’s formation spells appeared around the aerial beasts. Lightning covered the aerial mages. They and their beasts screamed out; tombstones bloomed.

  Rugrat lowered his repeater and checked the side window on his magazine. George grew to his full size. Rugrat got on his back.

  “We’re moving!” Couto yelled. Everyone mounted up, charging away from the artillery position. Mages cast spells, throwing the flattened trees out of the way, clearing a path.

  George and the special team members’ mounts jumped out of their firing pits and toward the exit. They rushed out of the position as Rugrat turned back and closed his hands. The trenches exploded and collapsed. The central sitting rock cracked and fell apart.

  “We have a kestrel en route,” Gong Jin said as the special team members hemmed Rugrat in.

  Rugrat grunted. He hooked his repeater to the mount on George’s harness as he checked his map. “Slippery shits. They must’ve placed the formations last night. They’ve got six different camps rapidly expanding and charging toward Vuzgal.”

  “No one said we were the only people with a sense of tactics,” Gong Jin said.

  Rugrat looked at the six lines reaching toward Vuzgal. “I’d prefer fighting arrogant bastards to smart ones.”

  The panther mounts were at home in the thick Vuzgal forests. They wove between trees like a black flood, leaping over fallen logs and nimbly crossing roots that threatened to twist a man’s ankle. Their riders rolled with their steeds, leaning into the turns, their lower body moving with their mounts as they scanned the area.

  George jumped over a fallen log. He half-opened a wing, turning himself as his paws found purchase on a tree, hurling them forward as his wings flicked out slightly again. Rugrat dipped with the impact, letting it ride through his body.

  His mana-covered eyes searched the canopy above.

  The only noise came from the panthers’ breathing, the cracking of twigs underfoot, and the random clinking of equipment.