The entire formation lit up; the runes glowed with power as light flashed.
Twenty mages appeared, rushing out in every direction, pulling out more teleportation formations and setting to smoothing the land and raising defenses.
Medina’s disciples were replaced with mages. They flickered like shadows, following Medina, who left the teleportation formation to others.
Twenty turned to forty, then one hundred, then two hundred, then four hundred.
They streamed out, drawing walls from the ground, preparing secondary mana barriers, readying spells for a counterattack.
Medina and his students stood behind the growing wall. Medina examined the forest, the three kilometers of cleared land before the road that branched east, west, and south. Shacks that had sold food at the intersection lay abandoned. The shutter that would have shaded the shack’s merchant from the summer sun lifted and closed with the wind, a skeletal memory of times past.
Medina observed Vuzgal, the crisp clear lights that rose with the city. Towers stabbed into the sky like polished sabers. The rounded defensive towers stood like scepters at the inner wall and the main castle that surveyed all.
Most of the city was dark, empty, and dead. He looked at the proudest lights in Vuzgal. The Associations remain.
Melee fighters ran out, moving to the growing walls that were being continuously reinforced as aerial mounts took to the skies with their riders, looking for Vuzgal’s infernal birds.
Medina jumped without a sound, landing on the rising wall that attempted to block his view.
“Master, their city is so open without a wall. How can they defend themselves?” Turren’s voice was calm, analytical.
“They have their repeaters and odd weapons. I am sure we will learn more soon.” Medina pointed at the fields between the shacks and the city. “What do you think those are?”
A few of his students used spells to enhance their vision or pulled out tools.
“They look like fields, but they give off a metallic light,” one said, perplexed.
“Did Vuzgal ever have fields?”
His disciples focused harder.
“They look like bushes of metal, and range for kilometers. A measure to slow our forces?” Turren said.
Good, they took some of my lessons to heart. “They can slow and trap us in the land in front of their city, disrupt our mana barriers with those metal fields.” Medina’s tone was one of musing interest as his student’s gazes sharpened.
“What are my first three rules?”
“Everything can be used as a weapon. Use whatever you need. There is no honor in dying; only honor in surviving by whatever means.” Even as they repeated the ingrained words, their voices didn’t rise or carry farther than the wall.
“Today, I am interested in what lessons Vuzgal will give us.”
He felt their eyes turn to him. Too much confidence by far.
Medina looked away from the unblemished Vuzgal and walked off the edge of the wall that stood nearly fifteen meters tall. He treated it as if he had just stepped down the stairs as he walked toward the stone tower growing from the ground under the power of fifty mages.
Its sides smoothed out and openings appeared as the dirt fell from its sides.
Marco rode out of the teleportation formation on his mount, slowing his pace as he took in the developing camp.
No whistling weapons, no spells, no attacks? Marco raised an eyebrow and chuckled at his own joke. We must be outside of their range. Instead of attacking them and wasting their supplies, the Vuzgalians were waiting and conserving their strength. Or maybe they had lost most of their forces in the forest?
He thought of the trained birds that had dropped attack formations one after another on the United Sect’s Army. He suspected that not as many had died in the forests as they first thought. Still, the Vuzgalians only had a few thousand fighters, while the united sect armies would have four hundred thousand by tomorrow’s nightfall.
“Young Master, the command center is ready,” a guard said, indicating to a simple castle-like structure that jutted out of the ground.
Around the camp, other sects were creating their headquarters and mages were reinforcing the mainly dirt walls with thick stone.
“What about the secondary camps?”
“They are being raised as well. Five secondary camps along the northern side, two on the eastern, and two on the western. The first of each flank has been created. They are waiting to gather more forces to create the last camps.”
“And there Vuzgal sits, calmly and patiently,” Marco mused. He clicked his mount forward toward the headquarters.
Medina was waiting for Marco, looking at the maps that covered the main table. He didn’t take the time to look up at Marco.
“Master, you and your disciples have done excellent work. We are but a few kilometers from the enemy’s city now.”
“We both serve the Institute. We have other matters we must attend to once this matter has concluded.”
Not one to waste words.
“We caught them by surprise and cut days off our travel time. Now we can directly draw our reinforcements into battle and pressure them instead of fighting in the forest.”
“They are silent, but they are not blind.” Medina put his finger on the area in front of the city and circled it. “Here, they have created fields of metal. I believe to entrap and slow us.”
“With no wall, they had to have something.”
“It extends from halfway down their road to their odd buildings.”
“They might not have expected our teleportation formations the first time, but they predicted their use. Instead of engaging us with ground forces, they chose to attack through the skies. If they had been on the ground, we could have moved our forces around with teleportation pads, encircling and defeating them.” Marco let out a breath with a snort. “Some have said that we killed half their number in the forests. Do you think that we did?”
Medina's and Marco’s eyes met.
“No.” Medina’s face split into a rare smile. “You always were a cautious and observant disciple.”
Marco cupped his fist and bowed to Medina. “Thank you, Master. You made sure I realized that cultivation is just our own strength to borrow and use others through whatever means.” Marco rose. There was a crazed, excited smile on his face. “And to not underestimate the enemy. Do you feel as excited as I am to fight a worthy enemy, Master?”
Medina let out a low, choking laugh. “Who knows if they will be worthy? They are smart and resourceful, but we have yet to see what other secrets they hold.”
Marco felt something shift at the edge of his sensing range. His expression flattened as he released his fists. Medina’s eyes lowered to the map of Vuzgal once more.
Marco’s house guards moved to the side, and Leonia was allowed in.
“Your forces are organized?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good, make sure that you do not engage in any lasting fighting and pull back once you have shut down their totem.”
Leonia bowed and left the room.
Her attitude and bearing had become much more manageable. Maybe the sleepless nights and threat of death had changed her for the better.
“We will begin testing them with the light of tomorrow’s dawn.”
Rugrat squinted across the outer defenses, spotting the force of five thousand advancing on Vuzgal. Roska and Gong Jin stood at his side.
“Domonos deactivated the outer traps,” Roska said. “He doesn’t want to waste them on a small force. It would give away our range.”
“Five thousand is a small force?” Rugrat grunted as he watched the lines jog forward. “Ten kilometers isn’t a short distance. On Earth, they’d be at most three, maybe five kilometers away, in medieval times. Take them a day to organize, march out, attack, retreat. Ten kilometers would take an average human two hours to cover and have plenty of energy left to fight it out. Though ten kilometers isn’t much for our artillery.”
>
“Why didn’t we open up on them as they moved into position?” Gong Jin asked.
“More surprises to hit them with later. Right now, there isn’t much we can do if they’re in the valley. Consolidated, right in front of our walls, we can implement our defenses. We’re secure and safe here.” Rugrat shrugged.
“Feels shitty letting them get so close,” Roska said.
“Just imagine what their expression will be when they find out our mortars can reach fifteen kilometers and our cannons can go nearly twice that.”
Gong Jin shivered from more than just the cold.
Rugrat lifted his eyes from the oncoming army to the nine bases, forming an opposing semi-circle, closing off Vuzgal completely. “They’re quick builders for a bunch of dickwads.”
Roska and Gong Jin snorted and the corner of Rugrat’s mouth lifted ever so slightly, just covering the simmering rage underneath as he rubbed his storage ring.
George raised his head from where his small form rested on Rugrat’s shoulders, his eyes mirroring his master’s murderous intent.
Leonia heard the change from the road back to the swish and thud of feet, hooves, and paws over grass, the heavy breathing of warriors, and dull shoosh-shoosh-shoosh of shifting armor with every step.
Her hands were cold as she rode, looking ahead to Vuzgal.
They had passed the seven-kilometer marker at the road. The towers of Vuzgal reached into the sky and the short wall reached from one side of the valley to the other. The road they rode on could fit ten carts beside one another.
It’s much larger than I thought.
She and her army of five thousand rushed across the land, their noise like thunder in her ears.
Silence greeted them, reflecting their noise back at them.
She didn’t miss the shifting eyes, the confused looks. These were veterans from multiple battlefields. The enemy’s silent retort set them all on edge.
Leonia cleared her dry throat, pushing aside the uneasy feeling twisting her guts, the one that begged for something, anything to happen. She also wished that today, right now, would be an abnormality, that nothing would happen.
They reached six and a half kilometers. With her heightened vision, she could see the outline of the city. The flat plane was an illusion. It had a slow and steady incline to the fields of broken ground and metal fields. Behind it lay unseen defenses and squat buildings that rose with the smaller valley Vuzgal had been built into. The edge of the city expanded where it met the edges of the valley and then rose along the valley sides to a height of several hundred meters.
We have to be inside their range now, right?
“Prepare to halt!” Leonia said. They slowed their pace, looking at the sleeping city ahead. Leonia felt eyes looking at her from the darkness with their deadly intent. She gritted her teeth.
You think I’m scared of you cowards hiding in your city! She shook herself, turning her frustration into anger.
She checked her map. They were exactly where they needed to be. “Halt!” The formations rolled to a slow and then to a standstill. “Run the cannons!”
The formations moved apart as cannoneers pulled out mana cannons and powered them up, the reduce mana slowing the charging process. If they wanted to charge them faster, they’d have to burn mana stones.
The realm was already thin in mana, but this close to Vuzgal she could feel the mana being pulled from her body, reducing her mana regeneration.
“They are ready commander,” one of her aides, a battle-scarred man nearly four times her age, said.
“Fire!”
Formations lit up along the mana cannons. A series of rotating spells lined up with the cannon as it drank in mana.
The mana cannons made a noise halfway between lightning and a bee passing one’s ear. Leonia held her shudder, watching as dozens of attacks lit up the darkness of night, illuminating the ground more completely.
The attack spells tumbled toward the ground. She held her breath and was rewarded with pinpricks of light that caught in mid-air like dying embers meeting water.
Not even a ripple was thrown out. Leonia blinked as the rolling thunder of impact came back across the battlefield.
Did they not hit the city’s mana barrier?
==========
Event
==========
The city of Vuzgal is under attack! Pick a side!
Defend Vuzgal
Attack Vuzgal
==========
If there was a notification, then they must have struck it, but why did nothing happen?
A new light bloomed from Vuzgal. It shot across the ground, aiming right for Leonia’s army.
“Stand steady!” The scarred man’s voice steeled their bones. “Mana cannon won’t break our barrier.”
A swirling collection of chaos arrived with all the subtlety of a bull in a chicken coop.
Leonia lowered her eyes and braced herself to not react.
She heard the sound of rushing air before the world turned into pure noise and light. She ducked her head and raised her hand to protect against the light as her mount shifted and shied away from the attack.
What the hell was that?
The noise faded into ringing as she blinked her eyes open. The formations had shifted. Their barrier held, but its entirety was lit up like a golden hill.
“Bah, I was looking for a little light, anyway!” The scarred man snorted, his voice reaching the formation as they laughed nervously. He turned to face Leonia. “Commander?”
“Let’s head back. Our job is done. Vuzgal won’t be able to use their totem now.” She pulled herself up higher, trying to look the part of a commander as she brought her mount around. The beast fought her slightly, but gave in under her iron grip.
“Yes, Commander.” The scarred man cleared his throat. “Turn around. We’re heading back to camp! My legs are feeling tired so let’s take it at a march!” he said as if forgetting he rode upon a mount.
They headed back at a more sedate pace.
“Show our confidence,” Leonia whispered Marco’s words in a sour voice. She glanced back at Vuzgal, sitting and waiting for them. She bit her lip before glancing at the scarred man and clearing her throat, then moved closer.
He bowed his head. “What can I do for you, Commander?”
“What happened with our mana cannon attack spells? Why did they fade away in the sky?”
His face bore a solemn expression. “Their mana barrier was strong enough to take the attacks without needing additional support. The power of the barrier was enough. It didn’t need to direct more to the point of impact or spread the attack’s effect outwards.”
Well, it was a city, so it made sense, and they had only used a few cannons.
“Have you seen this happen before?”
“No.”
His answer broke Leonia’s thoughts. “Huh?”
“That has to be one of the strongest or the strongest mana barrier I have ever seen. To have the power to defeat nearly two-dozen mana cannons at once without so much as a flicker of power… Those Vuzgalians have mana stones to burn and formations as strong as my own shield.”
“What about their counterattack?” she asked, leaning in her saddle.
He looked to either side. “Strong as some I’ve seen in the Sixth Realm.”
She saw something in his eyes that she hadn’t expected. Fear. She recognized it well and sat back in her saddle. Maybe his outward appearance didn’t reflect who he really was. He could be a coward. No, Marco might not like her, but he would never send her out on my own without an experienced leader for support. He had needed this to go well and given her some of the better units from the different sects to command to make sure nothing went wrong.
She looked at the other leaders with her. They were all silent with their thoughts. The soldiers and sect fighters were unworried, although they complained about being out during the night, talking about sleeping, eating, or rutting. There was a casual laziness t
o them as they covered the anxiety and fear from before, using the opportunity to talk about lighter topics as if unafraid of Vuzgal.
Slowly, she looked back at Vuzgal, the slumbering dragon that had made its nest within these remote mountains.
Marco opened his eyes, instantly awake.
He sat up in his bed, looking out the window. Beyond it, he could see the compound that had grown around his personal quarters, staffed with members of the Tolentino clan and their attendants.
Past the walls, he saw a growing city. Four hundred thousand people took up a lot of room, and he wondered how many more people would join the fight.
Marco walked out of his room to find his guards waiting there and an attendant, a straight-faced, simple-looking woman.
“Your bath is ready for you, Young Master.” She bowed with the composure of someone that had done this for a lifetime, indicating to another room.
“Good, get me Vivaldo.”
Marco moved into the other room. A bath had been poured and readied for him. His maids took off his clothes before he got into the warm water.
He glanced at his cleaned, repaired, and oiled armor that stood in a corner of the room as he stepped down into the bath of two meters by three meters.
Marco felt his pores opening, drawing in the concentrated mana within the water. His body relaxed as he expelled dirt and impurities from within his body. He sunk into the water, gathering mana, clearing his mind.
“Leave me.”
The maids fluttered out of the room, allowing him to luxuriate in the feeling. He breathed in, the vapor coming from the bath drawn into his body as the mana spread throughout.
Footsteps approached the private room. Opening his eyes, he formed mana into a hand on the door handle and opened it just before Vivaldo, his guard captain, reached it. He walked in without pause and bowed to Marco as he shut the door behind him.
“I am sorry to interrupt you, Young Master.” Vivaldo remained bowed.
“You would have waited outside if it wasn’t important. Go on.” Marco pursed his lips as he drew in the mana, faster and with greater purpose now.
“All nine camps have been formed and are now being reinforced.”
Seventh Realm Part 1: A LitRPG Fantasy series (The Ten Realms Book 8) Page 42
