by Han Yang
“The book is basic so far. I think the author was lacking experience, and the king had him level to see what happened,” I said.
“Someone has to go first,” Bell mentioned.
The wagon rolled to a stop, and Tarla entered quickly.
“Jark’s driving, and the caravan is on the move. They were told not to stop and to rotate sleep. You’re going to hear…” The sound of feet on the roof told me part of her plan. Every space where the goblins could sleep was being occupied. “That. And I’m opening up the interior to adults in a few minutes. This will be a sleeping zone, not your luxury private quarters. Sorry,” Tarla said with a wince.
“Ah, no, it's what I want. I’m not Arcini where I get fat while the commoners toil. We’re in this together. Let me thumb a few more pages, and then I’ll start marching. I’m thinking I’ll unlock at least a hundred fifty minions at the next stage,” I said, flipping the page.
Necromancer Level 5 unlock -} No mana exhaustion upon the death of a minion.
I flashed the page to Tarla and then to Bell.
“Thank Caitlyn,” the two almost said in unison.
“See, this magus mage stuff confuses me. Why doesn't it apply now?” I asked.
Bell shrugged. I gave an exacerbated sigh, continuing to turn the pages and not finding much of merit. The author didn’t mention chain healing or using fear. The guide helped a little. It certainly was more information than I had before.
I stuffed the book into the bag, pulling out a thick book on healing.
“I guess I’ll sit up front and force Jark to walk,” I said, hefting the book onto my lap. The wagon started to slow, and I hollered, “Keep going for now.”
Not opening the book, I closed my eyes and went into my upgrade sheet, seeing that I once again had a few stats ready for a Zorta infusion before they improved. The big one was healer. It had jumped from the last few battles, able to go to seven for a forty Zorta cost. I accepted the upgrade and checked my stats.
Name: Damien Moonguard
Race: Human
Affiliation: Ostriva
Zorta: 107.129
Nordan Score: 236,000
Ostriva Score: 347,400
Location: Seqa Hills
Magic Type: Healer
Healer Level: 7
Magic Type 2: Necromancer
Necromancy Level: 3
Necromancer Minions: 15/15
Fighting Level: Pathetic Plus
Mana: 35/50
Mana Recharge: 6
Strength: 8
Stamina: 7
Dexterity: 6
Constitution: 9
Willpower: 8
Cultivation: 14
Intelligence: 30
Wisdom: 30
Charisma: 24
Tracking: 7
Endurance: 9
Perception: 13
Burst: 7
Reflex: 7
Healing: 7
Melee Combat: 6
Aim: 2
Hunger: 4
Thirst: 2
Aging: 59 years until death.
“I finally feel like I’m really improving. Also, I’ve been a bit selfish lately, randomly ingesting orbs from the hunting teams,” I said.
“Yes, the key players have. We still are earning a lot too. I figure in another week we’ll have you at Necromancer four, and then it’s Tarla at fire mage eleven,” Bell said.
Made sense to rotate the big upgrades. Five thousand Z for Necromancer five seemed silly. Best to just get to four and then collect the ten thousand to go home.
“Four hundred for that one. When I hit fifteen, I can cast a circle of fire around me while bending it inward to form a shield against most magic types,” Tarla said proudly. “The minions make it all possible, though. Having an army of those will make a world of difference.”
“Well, we need a base, and I’m sick of not having a bed or a room. I just have to hope that this mine had dwarves living in it,” I said. “Alright, Jark, slow the wagon. I need to learn about being a healer. I sure hope this book has something worth the effort inside it.”
CHAPTER 34
Seqa Valley
I learned a skeleton dove couldn’t fly. Shocker. For whatever reason, I had missed the simple thought process that a skeleton dragon should be able to fly. Just because the great necromancer lords in the movies flew dragons of bones… well, that was magic. In reality, there were no wings to create lift.
When I had the dove restored by a beast master, I couldn’t control the minion because it was alive. Instead, I abandoned the idea and sent a cerberus hound south to see for myself what the enemy was up to.
I currently controlled the animal, waiting near the tree line. I watched over the exit point for the valley, seeing the road we had created for our escape from the pines.
Mingled in the forest, the centaurs and trolls were here, and I was seeing the vanguard watching me intently. Deep in the valley, thousands of rising smoke trails told me the large army had amassed only far closer than I ever expected.
The centaurs moved at the speed of a herd of horses, and we had only just crested into the valley.
I ordered the cerberus to return, having seen enough. Without a doubt, we’d have died if we had settled on the island.
Any internal hope that the enemy would figure my pursuit was a foolish notion was lost. The centaurs were coming, and us capturing that scouting party of trolls gave them a clear path to follow.
When I returned to my body, I tapped on the driver side wall so I could leave the interior of the carriage. After three hard days of marching, we had at last found the new area that I wanted to call home.
Jark stopped the carriage, allowing me to exit into a different kind of forest. The first falling leaves crunched under my heavy and awkward steps. The river ran off our right, and at that part in the road, I could hear the water.
Bright sunlight crashed through a canopy created by hemlocks and white spruce trees. The underbrush was thick, and I thanked the heavens the old dwarven road was only partially overgrown.
The forest colorations were akin to something on Earth, and tree height made me feel better than being in the wild jungles from Ostriva. A squirrel jumped an upper branch, birds chirped, and the crash of bushes revealed a starving goblin with darker skin joining the caravan. I shook my head, noting how unique their species was.
Lumpy trotted out of the woods, following the goblin’s path. The wet jenix cat hauled a big fish, and I snickered. The hunting for small creatures was about ten times better in this forest than in the valley. I figured it was the lack of predators and that this section of land was mostly untamed. I only saw minimal game trails cutting through the dense woods. That and a whole lot of prey.
A stiff breeze carried the heavy scent of fresh forest that fought the smell of our tribe needing baths.
Quon paused his staggered gait, seeing me waving him over. The big bear lumbered closer and laid down for me to have easy access to his saddle.
The task of moving my clunky armor proved difficult. When I finished, I guided him over to the side of the road to adjust properly. We watched the column of goblins, trolls, and minions pass us by.
I could only imagine the sight I made. A knight in dull armor atop a bear mount.
I giggled at the notion, missing my mom. She… she would have been so proud. Maybe, yeah, mom and dad would have doted on my achievements even if I happened to be a goblin lord.
Asha rode his ram up to my side, asking, “The scout?”
“We need to find that mine, and if we weren’t already pushing so damn hard, I’d increase the pace. At least we manage four-hour rotations. While that is good, the bad news is that the centaurs are moving much faster than we are,” I said with a grumble, scratching the scruff on my face.
Tarla had been running her fingers over my face. I was fairly certain she had the hots for my beard, or maybe me. Either way, I could bear with the itch if it made her happy. This relationship thin
g was much better than I had expected it to be.
Asha cleared his throat, likely noticing me drifting. “That’s the easy part. The mine is a day up this road. We’ll make it in time even if they stampede. The hard part is that there’s an ogre village up ahead, though, and we can’t avoid it because it’s literally on the road,” Asha told me.
I hung my head.
“How big? And can we avoid it if we ditch the wagons, skirting into the woods?” I asked.
“Uh… likely not. They’ll smell us from a mile away and are likely already tracking us,” he said.
“Can I challenge a leader?” I asked with concern. “Not that I want to fight an ogre.”
“It is, and is not, how they work,” Asha said. “You can challenge the leader, assuming they aren’t screaming for your blood. Which normally they are, and they don’t listen to anything. If you did get them to pause, and you won, then the next highest ogre will challenge you. That cycle will continue forever because none of them will bend the knee willingly. Especially since this first group is at least three adolescents.”
I nudged Quon forward. When I went to open my mouth, a war drum reverberated through my very being. The smashing drum must have been the size of a wagon and the striker far stronger than any mere human.
“That would be them, signaling the others they’ve got a fight and to bugger off. Ogres are very territorial. If they ever consolidated, their power would rival, if not crush, the minotaurs,” Asha said.
“Battle formations,” I shouted over the drum beat, urging Quon to the front of the caravan.
I diverted toward the carriage, leaning over to steal a crossbow and deciding not to grab the quality lance. Quon was too long, and I’d probably just stab him if we got into a fight.
The mounted trolls rushed from behind, trailing the wagons to arrange into two triangle formations.
Excellent. The practice has paid off, and it was executed smoothly.
I nodded in approval, seeing the rest of the caravan wake up. The wagons halted, and the goblins hurried off the rolling vehicles, grabbing shields and crossbows from bags.
“Ready for an attack. Spare nothing when the order is given. If you must die, do so to help others live,” I yelled, hating that I even said those words.
This was war.
I stuck myself in the very front.
I wore the thick armor of a knight, not caring that I sweated in the gear and happy I had it on. At least the breeze helped with the infernal contraptions. I couldn’t see the ogres yet, but I sure could hear that damn thrum of the drum.
I glanced over my shoulder, seeing the goblins slow to form. Their main issue was a lot of them had been sleeping. That and the pregnant females struggled to get into the hastily crafted leather armor they had created.
I snapped my fingers at the females. “Ditch the gear. Avoid formations. I need you all to stay alive. Get into the woods. If you have an ogre chasing you, run it away from others and hope the combined fire wins the day.”
They nodded in approval, hurrying to carry out my commands.
Nee rode forward on a ram and said, “We’re good at running. I’ll try to have the mounted goblins do the running.” She hesitated, eyeing me with a mix of guile and determination. “Thanks for putting the ladies with babies in the safer areas… it matters.”
Yermica arrived, rubbing sleep from her eyes. She hopped into a saddle of a ram a goblin held in waiting for her. The warrior troll accepted a crossbow and then a lance. Nee left to manage the goblins, and I headed toward the cavalry formations with Yermica.
Militarily, we postured like a human army. Cavalry in front of infantry that carried crossbows. The uniqueness of this fight from a standard fantasy battle would be the magic. I hated and loved that mana drained so fast on Nordan because who knew what spells the enemy would have.
The lead carriage formed the backbone of our resistance, rolling into the middle of the road. Tarla smiled down at me from her perch atop the roof. Beside her, Jark and Bell readied to combo magic.
My minion hounds flanked my right. My troll and goblin skeletons stood stoically on the left. The naga carried crossbows within the goblin ranks.
Our forces were haphazardly organized at best with their gear and weapons, but I still smiled with pride.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when the ogres arrived. I guess I had an inkling they’d barter or make demands.
Instead, I saw five ogres dashing around a bend in the road. Even from a distance, their towering height and thundering footfalls struck terror into my heart. They charged full of ferocity with no care for a plan or need for tactics.
Each ogre stood over twenty-feet high, carrying large stone bats. How they shaped the stone, I had no idea, but those weapons would wreak havoc on our soft bodies. The gray behemoths snarled, large tusks jutting from roaring mouths.
Five unique faces ejected spittle as they constantly refreshed their battle cries. Black war paint coated under their eyes, and leather kilts protected thighs while even the females went bare chested.
“Hold! Let them come,” I bellowed.
They ran at a blistering speed, and it didn’t take a genius to realize this fight was about to get ugly.
“Single fireball,” I ordered Nee.
She relayed my order to a smaller goblin. The mage spun their hands, generating a fireball instantly, and zipping the streaking ball of crimson and orange forward.
The weak spell created a cheer from among our troops, and I cringed at the fallacy of the notion. This bit of magic wouldn’t win this battle, not even close.
A blue wave of magic shot out from the back ogre, shielding the leading ogre. The trailing female grinned, excited to prove useful.
“Again, and again, and again. Three attack spells in that spacing,” I commanded.
The ogres were closing the distance with their long strides. I doubted we’d have much time to react after the final spell.
A fireball zoomed across the distance. Behind it, a geomancer hurled a sharp rock. And behind that, a lightning ball crackled. The lead ogre never slowed, but the trailing ogre did. I saw panic on his face.
“Interesting,” I muttered. “That one realized they’re not fighting a troll caravan that will accept them as rulers. They likely smelled the goblins and trolls, figuring this would be a rollover and join us kind of fight,” Asha said. “Permission to charge around for the rear?”
“Granted,” I said, on edge.
With an angst filled tension, I watched as the blue shielding fought the next magic attack. A rock cracked through the shield, and the lightning ball smashed into the torso of the ogre.
The spell only slightly slowed the large being. The magic washed through the ogre who grunted, causing its face to twist into a whole new level of anger.
“Magic, unleash everything we got! If the first ogre falls, down the second. For Caitlyn!” I bellowed.
The lead ogre pulsed in size, growing with a gleeful grin as if relishing that his magic would overcome the firepower of a hundred spells zooming his direction.
My peripheral caught Asha charging through the trees, a small cavalry unit following him for the female shielding mage.
The rear ogre skidded to a halt, turning as she foresaw the outcome before the others.
I thought the other ogres expected the magical shielding to make them invincible.
The barrage of magic burst forth, brightening the day to the point I had to squint my eyes to avoid going blind.
What I saw was a mix of horrifying and euphoric.
The unleashed magic shot forth in a myriad of colors. Lightning arced down, rocks zipped forth, pink slime gooped out, fireballs seared the air, roots entwined feet, ice rained down, and golems of various types met the enemy ahead of our battle lines.
The first body, even with its engorged size, exploded into bits. The torrent of magic pushed, pulled, tore, burned, and eventually dismembered the confident troll. For a fraction of a second, the ogre re
alized his shield mage wasn’t there to save him. His eyes saddened as he realized he was doomed.
The intense mage carried forward. The fireball from Tarla alone was enough to burst through the first ogre and slam into the second. The two lead ogres crashed to the ground, dying quickly with their bodies sending tremors through the area.
Quon shook, the ground under him trembling. I pried my eyes fully open and saw the first two ogres twitching, their bodies twisted on the road in a gory mess.
The next two jumped over their fallen comrades, not faltering in their charge. Something had to slow them, or our lines would be hit flat-footed.
“Cavalry forward!” I ordered, knowing there was going to be a price to pay.
Quon raced forward, and I groaned. I didn’t have my lance on me, but I aimed the crossbow with each jostling step.
Snap!
The bolt erupted out of the weapon, sinking into the chest of the ogre we charged. I had hoped for a kill shot or something, but nope. The ogre didn’t even flinch.
The bear bounded ahead of the rams, rearing up at the perfect moment to halt the enemy’s charge.
Because I still clutched the crossbow, instead of throwing it aside, I fell out of the saddle, unable to hold on. My fall left me flailing, but that was better than it would have been if I had stayed on the bear’s back.
The ogre ditched its weapon and tackled Quon in a mighty lunge.
Smash!
The wind left my lungs from the fall. I tried to yank my blade free but struggled to breathe.
The bear and the ogre lifted off the road, soaring over me. I rolled out from under the following ogre’s charge. A sweeping stone club crashed into the troll cavalry, ejecting my troops and their mounts out of the way and high into the trees.
Chaos mixed with the shouts of unit leaders. The dying cried for aid, and I struggled.
“Crossbows! Focus fire!” Tarla ordered.
Crossbows snapped, zipping into the fourth ogre. The high tension weapons blasted their bolts forward with enough force for each projectile to sink deep into the ogre. Thirty red spots welled blood. The ogre ran a hand over its body, slicking its torso.
