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

by Michael Chatfield

  Holes appeared through the enemy tide as lines were broken, fighters scattering.

  He heard wood on wood as the siege weapons fired for the second time.

  “Hold steady!” Lukas yelled to the forces on the wall, commanding his melee forces.

  “Mages at the ready! Two hundred meters!” Pan Kun yelled.

  “Mages, range two hundred!”

  Pan Kun could feel Nasreen waiting beside him, a ball of tension.

  The enemy surged across the two-hundred-meter range, speeding up as they came down the slight incline toward Hunter Frontier outpost.

  One hundred and fifty meters.

  “Fire!”

  “Fire!” Nasreen repeated.

  The light of the spells flickered at the corner of Pan Kun’s eyes as he scanned the enemy.

  “Ready archers!” Nasreen called out.

  Spells carved a shorter path over the battlements, striking the ground and spreading out rapidly, leaving broken and twisted remains, their enemies’ screams consumed by the yells of the United Army charge.

  What I’d do for a hundred more siege weapons and ten times the mages.

  The defenders on the wall yelled as the enemy closed in on the one-hundred-meter range.

  “Fire! Ready on the walls!” Lukas and Nasreen yelled out. Pan Kun scanned the enemy. They were bunching up as they got close to the wall.

  It was a tide of killers, their weapons held high as they charged. Spells and siege weapons reaped a heavy toll.

  Bows twanged as arrows flew skyward. He swore he could feel a breeze as the arrows hissed overhead and plunged into the enemy ranks beyond, cutting down sections of fighters. Those behind them were running too fast for them to slow and raise their shields. Some tripped over others hit with arrows, tumbling and left to the mercy of the feet of those behind them.

  The front line reached fifty meters and disappeared.

  Some stopped, only to be pushed forward, screaming and windmilling as the ground collapsed beneath them, revealing deep pits filled with spikes.

  “Crossbows!” Lukas yelled before Pan Kun could give the orders.

  “Fire when they’re ready,” Pan Kun said in a quiet voice. His stomach turned in knots as he tried to clear his wet throat. He lowered his viewing glasses. Crossbows raised from behind the wall and aimed at the enemy who were being rolled into the massive spike pits, the sheer number of bodies filling the holes.

  “Fire crossbows!”

  It was like a scythe cutting through wheat as people stiffened in pain and shock. Dropping to the ground, they grasped at their wounds in confusion.

  Pan Kun forced himself to breathe.

  Don’t go into the black; watch the whole picture.

  “Change to fire pots on evens! Ready fire spells!” Pan Kun said into Nasreen’s ear.

  She yelled and used flags on the rear wall to the team leads. Flag bearers relayed the message.

  “We have breakthrough.” Lukas grabbed Pan Kun’s arm, pointing with his viewing glasses.

  Paths between the pits became the enemy’s lanes, like water through rocks. Some lost their footing and tumbled into the pits. Ladders were tossed down, creating chaotic crossings. One misstep, putting a foot through an opening, could break a leg, while those behind used your back as support to rush forward.

  Nothing but stable ground to cross and dirt to fill in the pits.

  A flare of light drew Pan Kun’s attention.

  Pots smashed on the ground, spewing brown liquid. Soldiers cried out as they tried to spit out the liquid. Steel and flint within the pots drew against one another as flames ballooned through the oncoming ranks.

  Some of the pots merely broke and flung out their contents. Fire balls from the mages landed among the flammable contents.

  “Those spotters are doing well,” Pan Kun muttered as the enemy reached the base of the wall.

  Pan Kun grabbed Lukas, bringing his mouth to his ear. “Rocks!”

  Lukas gave him a thumbs up and pulled out flags. Noise washed away words.

  Pan Kun grabbed Nasreen. “Decrease the siege machine range. They’re clumping at one-fifty! Bring the fire pots to the walls!”

  She gave him a thumbs up and worked her flags.

  Pan Kun raised his viewing glasses. An arrow flew at his wall. His gut clenched before the arrow smashed apart, seemingly in mid-air.

  Mana barrier. Pan Kun gritted his teeth, chastising himself and purposefully ignoring the arrows.

  Siege weapons continued firing just over the wall. Their payloads sent out waves of dirt, their bloody path longer than it had been.

  Pan Kun turned and raised a green flag, waving it. He looked to the left and the right. Small groups of Alvan army mages threw pots the size of a man’s fist up into the air. Mana flashed around their hands, striking out and destroying the pots, dusting the battlefield below with the poison hidden within.

  The wind is at least going away from us, for now.

  Pan Kun grabbed Nasreen. “Have the mages shoot from the wall!”

  A ladder reached the top of the wall. A soldier threw a rock down beside it and grabbed his spear to throw it off.

  Lukas raised a new flag and pulled out a whistle. Its piercing shriek rose three times. The last of the rocks were tossed down. Soldiers fired the last crossbow bolts, leaning them against the rear wall.

  The drilling had paid off as Pan Kun watched them transition to spears without the slightest hitch.

  Fire pots were brought to the top of the battlements and rolled down the walls.

  Commanders stood next to braziers, holding a simple stone covered in wax rope.

  “Ready on pots!” Nasreen yelled.

  “Go!”

  Two soldiers lifted the fire pots and threw them off the wall.

  The commanders threw their wax roped covered stones after them.

  They ignited with a whoumpf of heat and screams.

  Pan Kun raised his hand at the wave of heat, feeling it trying to draw the water from his eyes.

  Beast Mountain Soldiers used spears and staves on the ladders to toss them back.

  Light flashed below the wall, different from the flame pots igniting.

  Mages’ ranged spells appeared along the base of the wall, right against the press of bodies. The spells activated, tearing through iron, cloth, muscle, bone, and wood. Ladders collapsed and fell. Fighters screamed, and the stench of bad meat and the tang of iron mixed with the thick smell of flammable liquid rose as flames wafted over the wall.

  Pan Kun spat to the side and looked at the battlefield. The charge had slowed to a crawl. Those at the rear began bunching up, waiting for the front to make room. The thick carpet of fighters were perfect targets. The archers and siege weapons continued to fire into them.

  The enemy archers and mages responded in kind, striking the mana barrier that lay atop the walls.

  A spell formation appeared on Pan Kun’s right flank.

  A flaming spear shattered like glass against the mana barrier. He blinked the flash away. The barrier sent out ripples where the enemy’s attacks landed.

  He choked on the smoke and his eyes watered. Mages used air spells to clear the air and throw the smoke into the enemy’s front as a ladder hit the wall in front of Pan Kun.

  He grabbed a spear to push it off. A spell activated below, shredding the ladder, and it fell away.

  Pan Kun grabbed Lukas. “Rocks, fire pots, and crossbows!”

  “Sir!” Lukas’ ragged voice was nearly drowned out. He used his whistle and waved his flags, checking that people up and down the line saw it.

  Runners brought baskets on their back with fire pots and stones. Soldiers hauled them off their shoulders and sent them running back as they tossed their payloads into the enemy.

  Pan Kun looked back behind the lines. His people carried out their tasks without pause in opposition to the enemy’s floundering, chaotic efforts. Runners replenished baskets of arrows. Siege weapons bucked as they released their pay
loads. Their teams moved before the weapon had settled back down.

  Good, good. Pan Kun raised his viewing glasses. They’re getting torn the fuck apart.

  The rear of the army had spread out. He scanned beyond, looking at the mounted forces and the leadership in the rear. He didn’t have to look through his viewing glasses at the closest parts of the army. People jumped into the pits, walking across the dead that covered the spikes and climbed up the other side.

  Pan Kun could feel the battle shifting. Every second his people reaped untold lives. They’ve lost their momentum.

  He looked at the Alvan mages. They threw pots out, smashing them with a flash of spell, covering the enemy.

  Good, good, coat the bastards in it.

  Pan Kun felt his stomach twitch.

  The rear of the army turned and rushed back the way it had come. Drums and instruments called out to them.

  What is it?

  Pan Kun grabbed Lukas. “Crossbows!”

  He pulled in Nasreen. “Attack what you want!”

  BMA soldiers grabbed crossbows from the rear wall. Shooters put their foot in the stirrup using the cocking lever, drawing the wire back, loading it and aiming into the enemy; they couldn’t miss.

  Archers fired as fast as they could, going for speed over coordination.

  Like a string being pulled, the enemy’s rear was collapsing.

  Pan Kun looked at the siege weapons. On Nasreen’s orders they hurled pots skyward, smashing into the ground and sending a wave of flame through the enemy ranks. The retreating army bunched up between the cones of flame the pots left.

  The people behind the pits and those in them started to run away.

  Those with crossbows shot them in the back. Once again, the enemy had to cross the pits and the thin, foot-wide dirt track between them.

  Crossbow bolts nailed those climbing out of the pits.

  The remains of the United Army’s first wave cleared the pits, wounded trailing behind trying to limp or drag themselves to the rear.

  Spells rained down on the runners as fire pots cracked in the distance.

  Pan Kun grabbed Lukas. “Cease—” He lowered his voice at the new silence. “—Fire.”

  Lukas waved his flags, giving two long blows on his whistle. Those on the wall lowered their weapons and looked around as if seeing the world for the first time. Wounded were pulled from the line, carried off to the healing huts.

  Pan Kun watched the markers. “Have the archers cease fire.”

  “Sir.” Nasreen waved out as the hiss of arrows slowed and stopped.

  “Siege machines,” Pan Kun said.

  The creak and whumps finally stilled. The noise fell away like a dull pain.

  Someone lost their soup over the wall.

  Pan Kun’s throat was raw from the smoke and yelling. He took a drink from his canteen and passed it to the others. “Get sand on those fires and issue face coverings for the smell.”

  “What about the wounded?” Lukas asked.

  Pan Kun had tried to ignore the crying and sobs on the other side of the wall. He gave them both a grim look. “Have the mages put them out of their misery. We don’t have the arrows to waste.”

  “I’ll see to it,” Nasreen said.

  He nodded and patted her shoulder. She nodded in thanks and turned, heading down to her ranged forces.

  Pan Kun stopped Lukas. “Get me a count on wounded and dead. Make sure that everyone took the damn recovery potions. Anyone has even a cut, get them to see the medics. I don’t want anyone getting sick. That powder is powerful.”

  “And make sure they drink water?” Lukas asked.

  Pan Kun gave a glimmer of a smile. “And make sure they drink water.”

  Lukas headed off as Pan Kun realized he was still holding a spear. He put it back into the rack, letting out a breath, feeling tired and lightheaded.

  The army slowed as they reached the mounted forces and leaders at the rear. A few tried to keep going and were hunted down and killed for cowardice. Salyn thought that most of them had stopped because they were too tired to keep running.

  He looked at their faces. Some were bent over, coughing or throwing up. Others collapsed to the ground, bone-weary, or stumbled, looking around with blank eyes and weapons in their hands as if they were startled and panicked beasts.

  Wounded, some with burns across their bodies, others with broken bones and missing limbs, stumbled back and were sent to the healers and alchemists to purchase their services if they could.

  The smell of sweat, smoke, and offal lay in the air as Lord Salyn raised his hand, breathing in the perfumed handkerchief tied to his wrist, clearing his mind and calming the growing nausea.

  “Well, now we know their abilities,” Lord Knight Ikeda said.

  Salyn looked over. The Lord Knight leaned forward on his mount, peering out at the outpost. He lowered his viewing glasses, a treasure from the Willful Institute, and passed it to Lord Aras.

  “Yes, tricky fellows.” Aras accepted the viewing glasses and studied the walls.

  “Regarding the charge?”

  He had paid off some of their knights and low-level commanders to start the charge, and the rest followed afterward.

  “It seems that they came from uneducated forces, unfortunate.” Ikeda clicked his tongue.

  “It is a shame, hot-headed but well-intentioned younger commanders,” Aras agreed, still studying the wall, and talking as if he was appraising a horse’s value. “Stronger than I guessed, didn’t think they would hold.”

  “Nor did I.” Ikeda frowned. “Those pits take more than a day to prepare, and our scouts didn’t see any digging.”

  “They must’ve put them down, what, weeks ago?” Aras lowered the glasses and handed them back.

  “Maybe, or they worked in the night.”

  “We should assume they have an information network to know our plans.”

  “Agreed,” Ikeda tapped his reins. “Salyn, order one of the cannons to be brought up and fired on the outpost.”

  “Is that wise?” Aras asked.

  “We cannot have the army stewing on their losses. The cannon will keep us out of their range, show the fighters something exciting and powerful. Promise them increased rations and an extra portion of beer for the night.”

  “That will bite into our supplies,” Aras warned.

  “We have supplies for one hundred and fifty thousand; the rations of those we lost will make up for it. Who knows? Some of them might have a breakthrough in their body cultivation. Battles are known to push people past their limits.”

  “Lord Ikeda, you are as brilliant as always.”

  Ikeda smiled and nodded before looking at Salyn. “Go, now, get me that cannon.”

  Lord Salyn rode toward the cannons. The personal guards of each kingdom stood guard, protecting the cannons and the mana stones that would power them.

  Pan Kun stood on the wall with his two seconds in command.

  “What do you think they’re doing?” Lukas asked him and Nasreen.

  “Well, it’s a cannon,” Nasreen said.

  “Gives them something to build up their morale.” Pan Kun shrugged. “Keep our people working. The barrier will stop it.”

  Melee and ranged fighters threw sand on the fires that blackened the wall’s stones, checking gear and stowing it, ready for the next battle. Siege weapons were checked and repaired as needed, the fire pots secured once again.

  “I’ll leave it to you.” Pan Kun walked toward where the Alvan mages stood on the wall, using their magics to stifle the fires.

  “How do you think it went?” he asked the lieutenant leading them.

  “Sir, they’re covered in it.”

  “You think it’ll...”

  A blast of light made Pan Kun turn. He steeled himself as the mana cannon’s projected spell hit the mana barrier, making his soldiers duck and stare as a ripple splashed across their barrier.

  The cannon started to charge again.

  Pan Kun
noticed that the lieutenant didn’t duck either. “You’ve had experience with these before?”

  “Yes, sir. I was at the siege of Meokar and several others.”

  “What do you think of their cannons?”

  “They’re cute. Pain in the ass to figure out how much they hit for. Best to fire them in groups, pile up the damage before the formation has time to recover.” The man smiled. “But now, with that single shot, they just told us how powerful their cannons are.”

  “That's useful?”

  “Sure thing, sir. We can figure out how much power we need to defend against each shot, the kind of attributes they’re using, and switch out parts of the interlinked formation. Make it stronger against that combination of elements and feed it the power it needs to take the hits.”

  The cannon fired a second time.

  “John-o! You got a time between rounds?”

  A mage, John-o, turned back. “Forty-three seconds.”

  “Rei?”

  “Agreed!” another mage said, staring intently at the cannon. Pan Kun saw her lips moving as she counted.

  The spell struck, making people recoil, but not as bad as before.

  “Also means that our people can get used to it. Fight through it,” the Lieutenant said.

  That should scare them if we’re standing there not caring about the cannon and just firing back.

  “Keep me apprised and see that the adjustments are done to the mana barrier.”

  “Sir,” the Lieutenant nodded.

  Pan Kun turned to leave and paused. “The powder, how long before it takes effect?”

  “About twelve hours, sir. It’ll start hitting them tonight. They’ll have the colds and the shakes all night. Do you mind if I have everyone drink another round of the antidote? Should make sure that everyone’s bodies get tempered with the poison, then they could drink it if they wanted to.”

  “Good idea, do it. Make sure the team leaders watch them.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Pan Kun walked along the wall. Soldiers carried out their tasks before being led back to their quarters to erect their tents again. New fires were lit, and food was prepared for lunch.

  They needed to do something about the bodies, too. They stank, and if the wind turned, the smell would come back this way. They would deter the enemy though, having to cross over their dead.