Turning my attention back to the distressed southern line, I could see in just my short survey of the battlefield that we had lost scores of troops. In some places the line was down to only two soldiers deep whereas it had begun the day with ranks five deep. The spear-wielding mercenaries and their formidable phalanx would defeat us unless I could come up with a counter.
How to defeat the phalanx? My knowledge of history wasn’t needed to see it was beating us. The traditional way to defeat a phalanx was with maneuver, but we were locked in on all sides by a numerically superior foe. Magic would have to substitute for a maneuver element . . . I’ll summon my own maneuver element.
I jogged up behind the valiant alpha company before activating my—
“ARRRGHHH!” Debilitating pain lanced through my body, dropping me to the ground. Even with the reduced pain feedback, I couldn’t help but gasp. It felt as if all my muscles were trying to contract at the same time, tearing apart my body. A debuff icon appeared in my vision.
You have been affected by Waves of Agony. This painweaver ability creates an area of effect with a 10-foot radius. Any foes within its area of effect are immobilized by pain, taking damage over time for the duration of the spell.
The pain stopped for a second and I began to regain my feet only to be dropped by a fresh wave of agony. The pain stopped and the pattern repeated itself twice more.
“That spell is so broken! I didn’t even get a magic resistance proc,” I muttered to myself as I once more tried to regain my feet. Thankfully no wave of pain met me this time as I saw what had happened. Just behind the enemy phalanx four painweavers lay dead, riddled with scorpion bolts. They were forced to expose themselves in order to cast the spell, but once they cast it, my scorpion teams took them down just as I had ordered them to.
Even the brief disablement had been disastrous. A twenty-foot section of our line was down, and the elves who had been behind the phalanx were worming their way past their hired allies and into the breach in our lines. Several elves went down to caltrops or were jostled into and impaled upon the sharpened stakes, yet the bulk made their way out of the ditch and ran among the fallen soldiers, slitting throats and hacking limbs as they went.
I gave a hand signal to Wrend, ordering forward three squads of Ignominia to plug the gap in our lines. The gruff but confident sergeant had anticipated the need and the forces were already rushing toward the breach. Ignominia tore into the elves, who were focused on slaughtering the helpless soldiers.
The rest of alpha company began to bulge backward as the enemy phalanx pressed forward. It finally entered the trench and pushed forward as it sought to widen the breach in our lines. I needed to break the enemy formation or face disaster. Raising my hand, I activated a charge of Goon Squad, summoning a dozen prisoners around me. The goons charged forward; most got skewered on the waiting spears, but a single goon did make it past the hedge of spears to slash and stab at the Shield Brothers. I unleashed a second charge of Goon Squad, summoning eleven more.
Waves of Agony resisted.
Finally, my passive ability had succeeded, saving me from flopping on the ground in pain. A quick scan of the enemy lines revealed another painweaver; the caster tried to duck behind the protective shields of the phalanx, only to be impaled by a pair of scorpion bolts. I saluted the two crews; they were doing well at keeping the painweavers at bay after the first few casts had hit us.
The portion of the line under attack by the Shield Brothers was the Schwerpunkt of this battle. The old term filtered into my mind as the AI unlocked more of my military history memories. It was not a convenient time to remember old nineteenth-century German military terms, so I pushed the memory of attending a class back and away; there would be time to revisit it after I won the battle. It was time to unleash all my abilities and use the game mechanics to my advantage once more.
I cast both blasts of acidic sap from Tessel’s Promise, taking down a pair of Shield Brothers and opening a small gap in their lines—a gap I charged into. Damage piled up as spears clanged off my armor and shield and occasionally cut into my flesh. I had the attention of the section of the mercenaries’ line as they burned my health down toward zero. At a quarter health, I activated Honor Guard and stepped back a few paces.
Eight elite legionnaires spawned, forcing the mass of spears attacking me to focus on them. It was now the Shield Brothers’ turn to have their formation broken as the affected members of the phalanx turned to face the nearest honor guard, breaking up their tight spacing. I summoned my last charge of Goon Squad and fifteen new goons were summoned around me. The goons charged into the phalanx. This time, only a few died to the rear ranks of spearmen who were not affected by the honor guard.
To my left, the line still bulged, my men driven back and being systematically killed by the advancing phalanx members who had not been affected by my abilities. I concentrated on the middle of their formation and summoned both corrupted wolves from Tessel’s Promise. The wolves attacked immediately, roots shooting from their mouths and seeking unprotected flesh near legs and faces. The tightly packed formation spasmed, and my soldiers were able to close past the first ranks of spears.
In close combat, my men were deadly. The front ranks of the phalanx couldn’t hit them once the men were inside the reach of the long spears. The rear ranks of the formation were still in the fight, thrusting between their friends whenever an opening presented itself, but the fight had turned from a slaughter to an even match, one my men were capitalizing on. In the rear of the enemy formation, a tall shape formed and stood; the remaining runesmith on this front had tossed an earth elemental rune right where the enemy would be least prepared. The runesmith followed up with an earth spike rune, further disrupting the enemy formation.
Horns sounded in the distance and the phalanx stopped before slowly backing away, trying to reform its lines even as it retreated. Looking to the left and right, I saw that the elves there were also pulling back, weaving to avoid the hail of javelins following their retreat. To the north, the reavers and executioners were the exception, continuing their assault on bravo company.
I was shocked to see one of the catapults had been smashed to pieces. Based on the stone sitting amidst the wreckage, I judged the engine a casualty of counterbattery fire from the mercenary siege engines, which must have been assembled and pushed into range while our own crews were taking cover. The scorpions all seemed to be in operating order, however, and they were still firing at targets of opportunity.
“Sir, the new arrivals have spooked the Ikbose. They’re quitting the field,” Sergeant Brooks shouted from the top of one of the supply wagons.
“Arrivals?” I asked, furrowing my brow. Who had come? Seeing there was no hail of arrows coming down from the fleeing Ikbose, I jumped up to get a better view of the relatively flat battlefield. The catapult crews also emerged from cover and began to load their weapons.
The elves were bugging out as fast as they could flee; more than I would have liked were going to make their escape. To the south, where the mercenary siege engines had set up, stood a force of fifty ogres. The massively powerful creatures had turned the machines into splinters and were busy finishing off the crews and guards remaining there.
“Tavers, check your fire and make sure we’re not shooting anything even close to the ogres,” I ordered, not wanting an accidental long round to start a second battle. The reavers were continuing to impale themselves on our lines while the executioners were now heading off the field with the elves that had been providing them cover fire.
We kept up fire on the retreating enemy forces until they left siege engine range. Until we got our forces sorted out, I didn’t intend to pursue the fleeing Ikbose. The sergeants took control of their troops, reorganizing to balance their platoons while the medics treated the wounded.
“Sir, looks like company heading our way,” Brooks said, pointing toward the ogres. The creatures had finished off the mercenaries around the siege engines and were ca
utiously approaching our lines where alpha had fought the Shield Brothers.
“Wrend, bring the rest of your unit over to join alpha. We don’t want to appear too weak in front of our new neighbors.” Alpha had been ground up badly. I didn’t have final casualty figures yet, but from the few men still walking around, I knew it would be bad. The ogres stopped about twenty yards from our lines, and I spotted the ogre named Stench among the group. If I recalled correctly, he was the leader—or one of the leaders—of his clan.
I grabbed Wrend to join me as I passed our lines and picked my way through the remaining obstacles until we were a few yards from the imposing ogres. The giant creatures were physically intimidating, most nearly double my own height. They were covered in blood—most of it from their enemies—and looked winded from the short battle they had fought.
“Greetings, Stench. Thank you for joining in the battle,” I said, taking the initiative in starting the conversation.
“You were true to your word, fighting the Ikbose and their new allies. You have broken the siege of my lands, for now. What are your plans, human?” Stench asked. His booming voice hid a subtle intelligence. It would be wise to not assume this creature was stupid like so many of his hostile kin.
“We will continue on, stopping for a day or two until reinforcements arrive. Once back up to strength, we march on Stonetree. Our intention is to raze their city to the ground, ending this threat to our zone,” I replied. Stench seemed to think for a moment before continuing.
“March your army to our mountain. You can shelter with my people until you are ready to continue,” Stench said before turning and marching back toward the mountain with his fellows. Unlike other ogres, these Goreaxe didn’t eat the fallen warriors of the Ikbose. However, they did start to butcher the horses that had drawn the mercenary unit’s siege engines, carefully packing the meat away while stuffing occasional uncooked chunks into their mouths.
“Not quite civilized, but close,” I said to Wrend.
“Aye, sir. But I get the feeling you’re more interested in their fighting skills than their table manners,” Wrend replied . . . and his assessment was correct.
I opened my mouth to respond when words swam across my vision and the world seemed to lurch. Something was . . . wrong. Very wrong.
Emergency logout initiated due to medical emergency. Disconnecting from the medpod in 5, 4, 3 . . .
That was as far as the count got before my mind drifted into oblivion.
Chapter 27
Trey flopped his hand around the nightstand, half-asleep as he reached for the buzzing phone. After seeing who was calling at 3:00 a.m., he paled. All thoughts of sleep fled, panic squeezing his heart in an all too familiar way.
“Hello,” Trey answered.
“Hello, Trey. This is Dr. Greenway calling from your father’s room. I’m sorry to have to call at this hour, but your father has had another setback. The heart valve the nanobots were building is being rejected by your father’s immune system. He suffered another heart attack before the AI was able to stabilize him.
“I wish I had some good news, but things are touch and go unless the AI and the medpod can find a solution. I thought you might want to be here . . . just in case,” Dr. Greenway said.
“Thank you, Doctor. I’m heading down there now. Should take me about thirty minutes,” Trey said, ending the call.
“Trey, what’s happening?” his wife asked. Having been woken by the call, and after hearing his side of the conversation, she must have been as worried as he was.
“It’s Dad. His body is rejecting the heart valve and they’re not sure if he’s going to make it. I’m heading down to the hospital now . . . just in case,” Trey said to Veronica.
“Do you want me to get dressed and come with you?” Veronica asked, pulling back the covers and heading toward the closet to get dressed.
“No, it’s late and I don’t want to wake Lauren. Can you stay here with her? I hope everything is okay and I can be back before too long,” Trey said, dreading having to tell Lauren that something was wrong with her grandfather.
“Sure, you drive careful this late,” his wife said. She had been through the routine before as his dad’s condition deteriorated over the years. The late-night calls of “he may not make it” had all proven false; the tough old man simply refused to wave the white flag. Maybe this was his time.
He put aside his fears and drove to the hospital. The trip took twenty minutes and he might have generated a few automated speeding tickets along the way. After rushing past reception to the familiar room number 51, he stepped inside.
The room seemed emptier now that his dad’s roommate, Ty, was gone. The VA hadn’t seen the need to place another patient in the room. With as few veterans as there were remaining, there was enough room for each to have his own room. Doctor Greenway stood beside the medpod, refilling meds and inserting new ones. Another nurse—Fran must have gone home for the night—assisted her.
“How is he doing, Doctor?” Trey asked. Dr. Greenway held up her hand to stop him, concentrating completely on whatever she was doing to the medpod.
“Sorry, Trey. Had to measure that exactly,” she said as the medpod began to close again around his father’s emaciated body. That’s a good sign, right? They wouldn’t close the medpod if he was . . . gone, would they?
“Your father is stable for now. Like I mentioned on the phone, your father’s system began rejecting the material the nanobots were constructing his heart valve from. The material is one that is commonly used and it’s very rare for a patient to reject it.
“According to Clio, she is having the nanobots dissolve the existing valve and is rebuilding it with a new material. They should be done in a few hours and we’ll monitor his response. I just loaded anti-rejection meds for him. Thankfully, one of the benefits of the medpod is that it is a sealed environment and we don’t need to worry about secondary infections like you normally do when using anti-rejection meds. He’ll be back in the game in a few minutes and won’t feel a thing,” Greenway advised.
Trey breathed a sigh of relief, went limp, and fell back into a chair. His dad wasn’t going to die tonight. When he was so close to getting well and recovering his memories . . . Trey couldn’t stand the thought of losing him now. He wanted just one more conversation with Dad, one more chance to thank him and tell him he loved him. A chance for Lauren to meet him outside of the game.
“Thank you, Doctor. What do we do now?” Trey asked.
“We let him rest and let the AI build him a new heart valve. I think the danger is passed, and if the new material isn’t rejected, he should be okay. The AI did inform me that she is making substantial progress in repairing your father’s memories despite the physical challenges we’ve been dealing with,” Greenway said.
“I hope the AI is correct, Doctor. All we can do is wait and see,” Trey said before moving over next to his father’s medpod. He wanted to spend some time with his dad, even if Dad didn’t know he was there.
***
“Wake up! This isn’t some rest home. On your feet, Marine!” Ty shouted through his grandson’s door while banging his cane against it.
“Grandpa! I’m not a Marine. It’s Saturday, and its five in the morning. I don’t have to work today,” Lamar whined while still getting up to answer the door. The lock released with a click, but Lamar’s door didn’t open. Ty pushed his way inside, the door moving surprisingly easy.
“Well look at this. Will wonders never cease? You cleaned your room, son,” Ty said, surprised to see his grandson had followed his instructions to clean up the place.
“What do you want, Grandpa?” Lamar asked, glaring at him bleary-eyed.
“I ordered this, and the drone delivered it this morning. You going to help me get started?” Ty asked, holding up a box containing his own set of VR gear.
“Sure, Grandpa. Just give me a minute and we’ll get you all hooked up. You want to play in here or back at your place?” Lamar asked while
gesturing to the extra VR chair he had in his room.
“I was going to play here with you, if that’s okay. Maybe Grandma won’t aggro on me if I’m out of sight,” Ty said as Lamar laughed.
“Wow, Grandpa. Being in that medpod turned you into a hardcore gamer, didn’t it?” Lamar said as he hooked up his grandfather, taking extra time to make sure he was comfortable before activating the gear.
“When the game starts it may take a while to create a character and set up your account. Just log out and let me know if you need help with it. I can always piggyback on your signal and guide you through it,” Lamar said.
“Thank you, Lamar. I really do appreciate all your help. I think I’m ready to get started . . . Where’s the go button on this thing?” Ty said, fumbling with the side of his helmet where the activation button was supposed to be. The VR gloves felt thick and strange on his hands. Lamar grabbed his hand and guided him to the activation button.
A loading screen appeared as the game threw prompts into his field of vision.
Limitless Lands initial activation and account creation setup screen. Please enter personal information.
Ty told the game his information and a new prompt was pulled up.
Welcome to account creation . . . Error, existing account detected. Transmitting player to the Commencement Commissary.
Ty watched as he appeared in the room he had started the game in back on his first day in the medpod.
“Welcome to the . . . Oh, it’s you. How did you get here again?” Finley asked from behind the counter.
“Hey, I remember you. You’re that twerp that insulted the Marine Corps back when I started the game. If Clio hadn’t jumped in . . .” Ty started. Unlike what he expected others had experienced, he had nearly gotten into a fight with the halfling on his first day in-game.
Limitless Lands Book 4: Opposition (A LitRPG Adventure) Page 29
