“Well, that’s just great!” Halcyon shouted from somewhere behind me as a group of six spirits rushed forward to greet us. “What mana they don’t steal from me, I’ll have to burn in order to kill them!”
“I think that’s the whole point!” I called out as I cast Flameburst towards the charging group of spirits, taking care to angle the attack carefully so I didn’t accidentally set the ballistae behind them on fire. “Come on! We’re running out of time!”
Attacking without any semblance of strategy or coordination, the rushing wave of spirits simply attempted to swarm over us as our two lines met, seemingly more concerned with inflicting what damage they could rather than to try and kill us outright. It was certainly a viable tactic given the corruption they bore, its effects gradually building with every hit that they landed. But also, one that they simply lacked in numbers and strength to execute with great effect, their six easily outmatched by our eight, allowing us to carve through them with only a handful of scratches between us. With those out of the way, it was nothing for us to rush forward to aid the two ballistae crews to dispatch the remaining spirits attacking them.
Yet despite our relative ease in killing the spirits, they had managed to take their toll on the siege crew, leaving almost all of them with thin black lines running across their arms and face.
“Ugh, I don’t feel so good,” Natasha, groaned after the last of the corrupted spirits had fallen, her hand reaching up to clench her head. “What the hell did those…things do to us? I think I am going to be sick.”
“They poisoned you with their magic,” I replied as I glanced towards the elf, seeing a large stain of corruption stretching across her face and arm. “You’re going to feel awful for the next day or two, but it should eventually—”
A loud explosion of magic from elsewhere on the battlefield suddenly drowned out my words, causing all of us to flinch as we spun towards it. Coming directly from the front lines, it took us a second to find its source, our eyes landing on a column of smoke and fire that now rose from a fresh crater directly where a portion of our trenches had been. But no sooner did we finish our turn, did a swarm of fireballs shoot out from within the orc army and hit another part of the trench, their collective might incinerating another portion of our defenses.
“Damn!” Constantine called out as we watched. “It looks like the orcs are done playing around! We can’t take more hits like that or they’ll just swarm us!”
“They’re doing that already!” Freya replied as a group of six corrupted guardians finally reached the edge of the far trenches with another six not far behind them. “We need to get down there and help the front hold until the ballistae are firing again!”
“Go then! I’ll catch up in a second!” I called out, watching everyone do just that and charge towards the front lines as I turned to glance at both Bax and Natasha. “Are you all still able to fight?”
“Until our dying breath,” the man answered as his head shifted towards me, the streak of corruption that now covered part of his face doing nothing to hinder the steely determination that it held.
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I said, my hand coming up to point in the direction of where I’d seen the magic that had obliterated a portion of our line come from. “What I’m going to need you all to do is make sure those orc casters we just saw don’t have a chance to hit us like that again. Not without consequences.”
“We can do that!” he exclaimed confidently, his gaze moving towards his crew. “Right, people?”
“Right!” a disembodied roar answered him as the siege crew promptly rushed to reload the two machines.
“Good,” I replied, giving both him and Natasha a nod. “Good luck.”
Then with that, I moved to follow the others in rushing towards the front line, Amaranth effortlessly keeping pace beside me. So far both of our sides had been able to get their surprises in, each of them taking their toll amongst the two armies. But as we each adjusted and reacted to one another, the window for dirty tricks and clever maneuvers gradually shrank until it finally came to a close.
Now the real battle was about to begin.
Chapter 25
I brought Splinter in a hard parry, the jagged blade rushing forward to meet the sweeping sword arm of the corrupted dervish before me. Connecting solidly, I felt the impact of the blow shoot up my arm as they touched, Alacrity’s effects allowing me to process the battle instant by instant. Gritting my teeth, I pushed against the blade for what felt like an eternity before it came to a stop, but in reality, it had been little more than a second.
Then, without so much as a pause, I slid the blade downwards and off the now-frozen appendage, directing the sword towards a second razor-sharp limb slashing through the air. This one I knew I had no chance to block, the construct’s powerful backhand threatening to disembowel me completely should I let it finish its sweeping arc. So, instead, I deflected it, bringing Splinter down and hitting the arm just hard enough to change its trajectory, sending it flying harmlessly past me—and directly into the neck of an orc that had been moving to join our exchange.
Tough luck for you, buddy, I thought as I saw the dervish’s now off-course sword arm catch the orc just below the chin and practically decapitate it, causing the hapless warrior to begin to fall as a spray of blood misted the air. You should have picked a less dangerous fight to try and join.
But as the dervish completed its deadly swing, I didn’t wait to see the results, my mind already dismissing the now dying orc as quickly as he had appeared. Instead, it had already shifted back towards the construct as my feet dug into the ground, propelling me directly into its now exposed guard. Raising Splinter upwards, I saw the world around me blur as I lunged forward, Alacrity’s effects causing everything around me to ripple in slow motion, save for the dervish’s chest which remained fixated in the center of my vision.
It was an instant later that I was thrusting the azure blade directly into the construct’s body, sparks of electricity beginning to dance across its edges as I channeled a surge of magic into the weapon. Effortlessly piercing through the gray-black mud that armored the creature, Splinter sank in nearly a full inch before it encountered resistance in the form of the knotted root cocoon housed within the construct’s body. But despite its best efforts, that resistance only served to slow the sword’s passage ever so slightly as I’d put my full weight behind the thrust, its edge biting straight through the offending barrier and continuing past them.
Straight into the hapless victim trapped within.
Breathing a silent apology as I completed the thrust, I discharged the Shocking Touch that I’d held in Splinter’s blade, sending the magic shooting from it, electrifying everything in its path. Staggering from the mortal wound, the spirit animating the corrupted dervish abruptly changed its keening cry as it tried to pull itself free of my weapon and attack me, its voice warbling audibly in pain. But no sooner did it begin to move, so did I, twisting and pulling my sword free of its body as I dodged out of the way of a sweeping sword arm. Rolling under the attack, I easily escaped the reach of the wounded construct, turning to face it as I pushed myself back up to my feet.
As I did, my eyes immediately went to the gushing wave of red-black blood that now poured out from the abomination’s chest, staining its front completely within a matter of seconds. Swaying unsteadily on its feet as its agonized cry continued to fill the air, the dervish made to resume its attacks on me once more, raising its twin sword arms threateningly. But as it tried to take a step forward, its balance suddenly gave out, and it promptly fell to the ground with a heavy crash, the mud covering its body beginning to melt and thin a moment later.
“Thanks for the assist there, Lyrian!” Helix’s voice called out in a slightly distorted tone as the dervish died, causing me to glance over at its source and seeing the blood-covered lizardman rushing towards me with both Myr, Cadmus, and Amaranth by his side. “We managed to get all the others that broke through.�
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“Good,” I replied with a sigh of relief as I let go of Alacrity, the world snapping back to its regular speed as the hasting magic faded away. “Let’s get back to it then.”
“Sure thing, Lyr,” Helix replied as he and the others came to a stop, the lizardman’s eyes glancing downwards towards my body. “Just let me take care of your leg first.”
“My leg?” I asked, momentarily confused as the man stepped closer to place a glowing hand on my thigh, right where a large wound that I didn’t even recall getting freely bled, coating it with a bright crimson stain. “Oh, right. Thanks.”
“No problem,” the arakissi replied with a shake of his head as he continued to pour healing magic into me, giving me a chance to appreciate just how many other bruises and injuries I’d managed to acquire over the last few minutes of battle.
And how much had happened, too, both adrenaline and the aftereffects of Alacrity causing my mind to turn everything into one big blur.
After our timely rescue of the ballistae teams from the corrupted spirits, we had all rushed to meet the orcs’ vanguard as the first of their constructs broke through the trenches and plunged into our front line. Answering their arrival with a storm of magic and arcane-edged weaponry, the abominations quickly fell to our efforts, the damage that they had suffered in their journey to reach us weakening them greatly. Yet despite that, their presence served an important purpose for the orc assault, forcing us to pay attention and deal with them as their companions continued to close the distance behind them. It was then, when the second wave of guardians arrived, that we were forced to deal with fresher, less injured versions of the constructs, the same process repeating itself once again, except this time taking just a little bit longer.
But as the battle continued to escalate, our temporary stalemate didn’t last, the arrival of the corrupted dervishes and orcs themselves causing our lines to fragment as we were forced to give ground. Seizing on that opportunity as we reorganized ourselves, they pressed us even harder where our defenses were weakest, managing to slip a handful of constructs and orcs behind our reforming lines. Forced to react to their presence before they could wreak havoc on our rear, several others and I had broken away from the main group in order to take care of them.
But not without cost.
There’s no sign of Abaddon, Zethus, or Alistair, I thought as I mentally checked raid sense, confirming my suspicions as I realized that the trio was currently on their way back to the front of the base, having respawned at its rear.
Potentially the greatest advantage that our side possessed was our ability to respawn almost instantly after dying while protecting the base, the only delay in getting back into the fight being the time that it took to physically run back to it. Of course, the typical death penalties still applied if one was killed by an NPC during the battle, though that in itself could be mitigated if the adventurer managed to recover their soul fragment quickly enough.
Yet as much as that benefitted us as defenders, it was still very much a double-edged sword, as it was possible for an adventurer to leave multiple soul fragments behind, should they find themselves dying again before recovering them. Worse still, if we were pushed back too far, it was entirely possible for us to find ourselves completely cut off from them. Which would force us to not only eat the experience debt incurred by the death penalty but likely end up giving more ground as death sickness took its toll on our ability to fight.
“All right, that should do it,” Helix said as he finished healing me, his head turning to glance at the battle that was raging a few dozen feet away from us, then back to me and the others. “Everyone good to get back in there?”
“We’re ready!” Cadmus replied eagerly, the lizardman clapping together the oversized metal claws that he wore on each hand and causing a loud metallic clang to ring out. Not needing to say anything else, the five of us turned and rushed back into the battle, instinctively gravitating towards where the fighting was heaviest.
Which also, as it turned out, happened to be the same place where both Freya and Drace were, the pair attempting to rally a section of the line that was visibly flagging under the orc assault.
“Five coming in on your left!” I called out as we joined the fight, the pair instantly sliding over to make room in the line for us to slot ourselves into. “The rear is clear again!”
“Good! And even better timing, Lyr!” Drace exclaimed in a loud voice as I fell in on his left along with Amaranth beside me, the two of us using our momentum to drive back a trio of orcs that had been threatening the half-giant. “They were pressing us damned hard; I thought they were going to break through!”
“Not if we can help it!” I shouted back to the warrior as I sent a cut towards the orc in front of me, managing to land a shallow slash across the back of its hand and causing the creature to hiss. Reacting quickly, I followed up the attack with a second, hoping to press my advantage while I still could. But as I stabbed out with Splinter, I found myself needing to abandon the attempt and shift my blade to knock away the orc’s sweeping sword, the blow coming faster than I’d expected.
From there, the exchange rapidly devolved into a blur that my active mind couldn’t follow, instinct and experience taking over as I fell back into the flow of combat. Flashing by me as if they were still images, I occasionally registered sharp details as they occurred, a close parry here, a narrow dodge there, a triumphant feeling as I saw my enemy go down, resignation when another took its place. It wasn’t until I heard Drace beating heavily on his shield that I was pulled out of my haze, his voice piercing through my mind.
“The orcs are breaking to retreat!” he called out in between the loud metallic clangs. “And the Dread Crew are finally coming in right behind them with more constructs, so tighten up the lines where you can! We’re just getting started!”
“Oh, that’s just great!” I heard Helix reply loud from somewhere on my left as I parried an attack from an orc in front of me and quickly riposted with a vicious slash across its face that caused it to howl with pain. “Figures they’d wait until we were softened up a bit to make an appearance!”
“Only because they know they can’t beat us otherwise!” Drace shouted back as he took advantage of the orc I’d just injured to deliver an overhanded chop with his axe directly into the side of its neck. Pulling it free an instant later in a spray of blood, he delivered a punishing kick directly into the middle of its chest, sending the dying creature sprawling as the rest of its companions broke away and fled. “But we’re not going to wait for them to come to us! We’re going to go to them and send them back to whatever sorry excuse of a hole they crawled out of! Now, everyone, forward!”
Answering the half-giant’s words with a roaring war cry, the next thing I knew, our entire line was surging ahead as we chased after the retreating orc line, using our newfound momentum to cut down any fleeing attackers we could catch. Advancing rapidly, we managed to regain a small portion of the ground that we’d been forced to cede from under the orcs’ initial assault before we slammed into the surprised ranks of the Dread Crew.
Having been forced to navigate their way through the retreating orcs, receiving a charge, even the partial one that we’d been able to muster, was the absolute last thing that they’d expected, allowing us to stop their advance completely cold. Taking advantage of the confusion that followed, Amaranth and I forced our way deep into the disorganized ranks, Drace, Freya, and the others on either side of me momentarily vanishing in the press of bodies. Trusting that they would be advancing along with me, the battle then turned into a blur as Amaranth and I slashed, bit, and stabbed at everything in front of us, sending more than few Dread Crew adventurers back to their bind point. Lasting for an unknown period of time, the chaos caused by our attack finally started to wane as our attackers eventually started to rally themselves, their ranks slowly organizing to present a united front against us. As they did, I saw a familiar face shove their way forward through the press of bodi
es ahead, prompting me to rush towards it. Spotting me an instant before I closed, my newfound opponent’s eyes instantly locked onto mine, followed shortly behind by vicious scowl crossing his face.
“Damn it! It figures if there’s something going to shit that it would be you in the thick of it!” Hido growled by way of greeting as he caught Splinter on both of his short swords, only to abruptly leap backward as a sweeping claw from Amaranth lashed out at him. “Whoa, what the hell, man? You armored your cat?!”
“It’s nice to see you again too, Hido,” I replied as we exchanged another set of attacks, my arm working hard to keep Splinter ahead of his twin blades. “And yeah! I figured it was time that he got his own set. Do you like it?”
“Not at the moment I sure fucking don’t!” the elf replied, a loud clang of metal on metal punctuating his words as one of his blades bounced off Amaranth’s armor harmlessly. “Though I have to admit, it does look pretty badass.”
“Thanks, man!” I replied in a falsely jovial tone as Amaranth and I pressed Hido back a pair of steps, the man giving ground until he fell in line with two other Dread Crew adventurers, who on seeing what was happening promptly joined our fight. “Anyway, I think it’s pretty funny to find you guys in the middle of all of this! I didn’t peg you all as the type to befriend orcs!”
“Oh, you know us, Lyrian,” Hido answered in an acidic tone, and he and his newfound allies lunged towards Amaranth and me, forcing us to divide our attention between the three of them. “We’re all just such friendly people here. We’d never pass up a chance to meet someone new.”
“Don’t I know it,” I said sarcastically as I moved Splinter through the air in a blur, deflecting a scything axe from one of the attackers, a male Tul’Shar, and sending it flying off course—enough so that it was completely out of position when Amaranth’s paw suddenly appeared, and he could do nothing but let out a yelp before it hit him directly in the face and sent him falling to ground.
Glory to the Brave (Ascend Online Book 4) Page 32
