Glory to the Brave (Ascend Online Book 4)
Page 35
Unfortunately, the success that I had in resisting the shades’ assault was only partially mirrored by the rest of our line, several of the other Aldford adventurers finding themselves overwhelmed by the corruption the creatures bore. The result left gaps in our line as our defenders fell, finding themselves unable to resist the shades’ onslaught. That, in turn, caused its own chain reaction, forcing us to shrink back from the attackers, steadily giving back the ground that we had so dearly won minutes earlier.
“Helix is in trouble!” I found myself shouting at one point during such a retreat, having just seen the lizardman vanish as a group of attacking shades swarmed him all at once before he could step back. But as I tried to rush to the man’s rescue, I was cut off from him by the timely arrival of a pair of shadows who rushed past him, their attention fixated on me.
“Shit!” I cursed, immediately finding myself on the defensive as I was forced to parry an attack from a large shade that had appeared directly in front of me while simultaneously evading a claw from a smaller one on my flank. Yet despite my best efforts, that maneuver was too much for me to manage together, the flanking shade managing to land a long, sweeping slash along my body.
Gritting my teeth from both the pain and surge of corruption the blow brought, I worked to buy myself some space, sending a searing Flameburst in the larger shade’s direction. Seeing it flinch and back away from under its heat, I was able to focus fully on its partner, a powerful Shocking Touch-charged slash causing it to burst into a spray of shadows. Varying wildly in both ability and strength, one thing that we’d learned in dealing with the shades was that much like their appearance, no two fought anything alike. Some of them were veritable juggernauts of destruction, capable of dishing out and suffering incredible amounts of damage. While others appeared to be barely more than the shadows they personified, succumbing in as little as a single blow.
Unfortunately for Helix, however, the larger shade that had attacked me proved to be of the former type. It stood up to each and every hit that I landed on it until the trapped lizardman could last no longer, my raid sense suddenly shifting his position to the rear of Valor’s Point. With my heart falling at the realization, I delivered one last slash to the shade, the belated final blow finally causing it to dissolve into nothingness, only to reveal others waiting behind it to take its place.
“Lyr! We can’t stand up to this! The Dread Crew and more constructs are starting to come through, and we’re spread too thin!” Freya called out as I retreated from the advancing creatures, regrouping with her, Amaranth, and a pair of still-standing Aldford adventurers. “We need to pull back up the hill where we can make a better—”
The woman’s words were suddenly cut off by a bolt of black magic lancing out from amid the shades and slamming into her, causing her to stagger and retch as black lines of corruption instantly appeared across her body. Spinning as fast as my body would let me, I tried to trace where I’d seen the magic originate from, my eyes moving in time to see Carver as he leapt out from amid the corrupted shades attacking us.
Shit, what the hell happened to him? I exclaimed mentally as I saw him, my heart unexpectedly quivering with a sudden wave of fear. In the brief moment that we’d lost him in the crowd of spirits, dark lines of corruption had appeared all across his body, snaking their way down from his now pitch-black hands and towards his chest.
But that instant glimpse was all that I had time for before I found him directly in front of me, the man crossing the distance between us nearly faster than I could think. Slicing through the air as it led the way ahead of him, it was all I could do to raise Splinter defensively in an attempt to deflect his thrusting spear tip away from me. Yet as my blade touched the weapon and attempted to push it away, I found myself fighting a near-impossible strength, the spear refusing to allow itself to be knocked off its course. Eyes widening at the sudden change in Carver’s ability, I instantly realized the futility of my efforts and began to twist my body belatedly in an attempt to evade the attack.
Unfortunately by then, I’d already lost too much time.
Letting out a shout of pain, I was only able to turn slightly before Carver’s spear slashed across my chest and shoulder, piercing through my armor, and rending a large gash across the tender flesh beneath. Fighting through the agony of the blow, I instinctively moved to retreat from the man’s onslaught looking to buy myself some space to readjust but to no avail. Following me relentlessly, Carver stepped forward to keep up with my retreat, not even breaking his stride as he pushed past a still-recovering Freya with barely a thought, a single fist releasing its grip on his weapon to strike her directly in the chest, sending her flying off her feet where she bounced across the ground away from me and out of sight.
“Shit, Freya!” I shouted, shocked to see the effects of the powerful blow. But a brief glimpse was all that I could manage as Carver bore down on me relentlessly, his spear lancing out with blinding speed time and time again.
What the hell did he do to himself? I thought helplessly as every attack Carver threw at me seemed to find its mark no matter what I did. Even with Amaranth helping me by my side, the two of us were unable to do anything to stand up to Carver’s corrupted state, the cat accumulating his own injuries in the process. To make matters even worse, it wasn’t long before the corrupted shades caught up to Carver’s frantic pace, joining him in attacking us.
A gut-wrenching sensation tore through me at the sudden end to Amaranth’s words, causing me to call out in a wordless scream of pain as I felt my familiar die. Glancing over to the spot where I’d last seen him, I was able to catch a wisp of fading azure light amid a pair of corrupted dervishes that had ambushed the cat.
Of course, it was right during that distraction that I felt another burst of pain as Carver’s spear finally found its mark, burying itself directly in my chest just below my heart.
Gasping for air as the blow landed, I immediately moved to pull myself off the spear’s tip, panic fusing with instinct the second I realized what happened. But as I tried to take a step backward, the spear followed me, shoving itself deeper and deeper into my chest. Gasping in agony, I tried to grab at the weapon in an attempt to pull it away from me instead, only to feel something heavy kick out my feet from under me, sending me falling heavily into my back. As I landed, I felt what little wind I had left in me escape my lungs, accompanied by a mist of blood spraying the air.
It was only then, when I was lying flat on the ground, that I finally heard Carver speak, his voice sounding unexpectedly harsh and discordant.
“Do you see now what you’re dealing with, Lyrian?” he asked in an eerie tone, as if there was a second, different voice within him repeating his words an instant after they left his mouth.
Confused by what I was hearing, I angled my head down in the direction of the voice, seeing the corrupted orc now standing over me and staring back down at me with pitch-black eyes.
“Do you understand just how little of a chance you all have to win?” he continued, pushing on the spear still buried in my chest and causing a wave of pain to shoot through me.
Gasping for air, the weapon’s movement caused me to writhe on the ground in agony, the pain taking several seconds to subside. As it did, however, it brought along a wave of clarity, the pain and shock of Amaranth’s death finally fading away and allowing me a chance to glare back at Carver in defiance.
“You haven’t beat us yet, Carver,” I said in the best voice I could manage given the circumstances, feeling the corners of my vision begin to darken. “So I wouldn’t get ahead of yourself.”
“Not yet, no,” Carver agreed, offering me a shrug as he gripped his spear with both of his hands. “But, I will. Mark my words.”
Pausing for a second, the man looked like he was
about to say something else before suddenly stopping, his head cocking to the side as if he was listening to something far away, his eyes losing their focus. An instant later, a sharp scowl appeared on his face at the same instant a bright flash of magic lit the air, followed shortly behind by a thunderous explosion.
“Fuck,” he cursed in an angry tone as he turned his head back towards me, the expression on his face deepening. “You all certainly like to make life harder for yourselves.”
Leaning heavily on his spear as he spoke, Carver then unceremoniously gave the weapon one last violent thrust into my chest, causing a final burst of pain to shoot through me. Lasting for only a second, I felt my body go completely limp as everything started to fade away into darkness, a single familiar phrase eventually appearing to hover in the center of my vision.
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Chapter 27
“I think that’s going to be it for the night, Lyr,” Freya’s exhausted voice said from somewhere behind me as I walked through the now all-too-quiet battlefield, my eyes scanning the ground ahead of me. “Anything else can wait for later. I think it’s time we headed back and got some rest.”
“Yeah,” I replied in an equally tired tone, my blurry eyes doing little of anything as they passed over the burnt and ravaged dirt before me. “I think you’re right. I can barely see anything anymore, let alone think straight.”
“You and me both,” the woman agreed, her hand landing on my shoulder as she spoke. “Come on. Let’s turn in what we’ve managed to gather and see if we can’t find a place to just…sit for a little while.”
Allowing the woman to guide me, we turned to leave the charred expanse that this morning had been Valor’s Point’s first line of defense. With the battle now over and behind us, it appeared as little more than a field of ash and broken ground, the wounded terrain a testament to the vicious fighting that we’d all endured. Glancing around as we walked, I could see that all of the carefully crafted earthworks that we’d dug to slow the orc’s assault had been effectively destroyed, their remains hewn and torn to shreds.
But at least they served their purpose. We survived the first clash, I thought as Freya and I made our way across the field, the exhaustion riding on my shoulders growing heavier with every step we took. It had been several hours since my untimely death at Carver’s hands—hours that were largely a haze when I tried to look back towards them, my tired mind struggling to recall everything that had happened. Looking back, I could make out brief snapshots of the remainder of the battle, my return to the fighting with a wave of resurrecting adventurers, and seeing the storm of magic ravaging the battlefield. From there it shifted back into the chaos of fighting, a seemingly endless array of shades, orcs, and constructs filling my mind. Then after what seemed like ages, I was standing amid a field of barren ash, watching the orcs and surviving Dread Crew fleeing back towards their lines, the deafening cacophony of battle finally coming to an end.
And being replaced by the soft and triumphant chime of me hitting level twenty-five.
I still need to find out what happened to turn the tide of the battle, I reminded myself for what had to be the fifth time, still not having had a chance to find out exactly what magic our mages had unleashed to answer the sudden appearance of the corrupted shades that the orcs had summoned. The one thing that I’d been able to pick up so far had mentioned that both Donovan and Stanton had been responsible for rallying our mages and turning their efforts to deadly effect. Without their help, the battle could have easily turned out for the worse, instead of the rough stalemate we’d been able to force.
Reaching the surviving portions of Valor’s Point in short order, Freya and I re-entered the base to the sounds of muted industry, those who were ready and able already in the process of preparing for the next battle to come. While having escaped major damage, at least in comparison to the forward lines of defense, the battle had still managed to take its own toll on the inner portions of the base, especially amongst our siege weaponry. An obvious target for any attacker with sense, our ballistae, in particular, had been subject to attacks by both the orc spellcasters as well as the corrupted spirits that they managed to drop practically on top of us at the battle’s start. The result left us with a variety of pending repairs on the machines that had managed to survive the conflict, with others being stripped down for parts, or in more extreme cases, used for kindling with little left worth salvaging. Cutting through the activity, our path took us towards the far end of the base where we had placed the more vulnerable and critical functions of our defense, such as our recovery ward for injured defenders and our various supply stockpiles.
“I hope we can get an answer for this corruption stuff sooner rather than later,” Freya said as the former of the aforementioned locations came into view, along with a decent-sized group of adventurers and NPCs milling about the tents, waiting to be seen by the healers within. At a glance, we could see that they all bore various amounts of inky black streaks or blots across their skin, a testament to the vile magic that the orcs and their spirits had unleashed during the battle.
“You and me both,” I replied, a wave of guilt shooting through me as the words left my mouth, my eyes glancing over towards the woman to see the lines of corruption that she also bore. Having afflicted nearly all the defenders that had participated in the battle, understanding the nature of corruption that the orcs wielded had turned into our biggest priority, lest we find its effects slowly weakening our ability to fight. “I can’t help but feel bad that I’m the only one able to avoid being afflicted. Hell, I can’t even absorb it away from you all to make things easier.”
“Don’t,” Freya countered, shaking her head at my statement, the woman having been there for the disappointing test when I’d tried, and failed, to absorb the corruption that had afflicted Natasha and Bax after the battle. “Whatever it is that lets you devour the corruption might be something that’ll help Halcyon and the others figure out how to do the same with magic. Knowing that it’s even possible is a start in and of itself.”
“That is a good point,” I conceded, the woman’s words making me feel a bit better.
“All my points are good points,” Freya replied with a grin, her hand reaching out to grab mine and give it a reassuring squeeze. “Anyway, we’re just about here, let’s go drop off what we’ve collected with Ritt and Jenkins, then we can find a quiet place to regroup before the day gets busy again.”
“Works for me,” I said, it taking another few minutes of walking before we finally reached our destination, the two of us managing to hear Ritt shouting the second the place came into view.
“All weapons go over here into these crates and these crates only!” we heard him call out in a loud voice, his tone abruptly shifting. “Hey! You! Can’t you see where I’m pointing? That doesn’t go there! I might have one arm, but damned if I don’t have five fingers that still work! Put it over—no! What are you doing? Does that even look like armor to you?”
“Well it sounds like everything is just getting along perfectly here,” I commented as Ritt continued to shout at people out of sight, barely managing to finish one sentence before beginning the next.
“It sure does,” Freya replied dryly as we finally rounded a corner and entered into a wide square of barely controlled chaos.
Having been set aside in the aftermath of the battle, the busy, noise-filled, and adventurer-packed section of the base was a far cry from what I remembered it being just a couple hours earlier. Back then all it had been was a cleared square filled with a handful of tables and crates for storage, none of us sure of just how much space we would need. Now, on my return I could see that we’d grossly undershot our estimates, the square practically overflowing with both people and the spoils of war that they’d brought with them.
“Whoa,” I grunted as I laid eyes on the barely controlled chaos that was several dozen adventurers all trying to simultaneously sort and drop off what they had managed to scavenge or rec
over from the battlefield.
“Whoa, indeed,” Freya agreed, our stride faltering as we took in the sight, neither of us having expected to see the makeshift supply yard practically full on our return.
Staring at the sight with wide eyes, I was able to see half a dozen crates practically overflowing with orcish weapons, many of them simply piled on top of one another until they formed a precarious-looking mound that threatened to fall over at any moment. A short distance away from it, was what I thought was a table, or at least a corner of one, the thing barely visible from under the disorganized pile of armor that was strewn both on top of it and rising up from the ground beneath it. Farther away from that was a small mountain of what appeared to be scrap wood along with what looked like the better part of one of our catapults.
“Lyrian! Freya! Great! You two are back!” Ritt called out, the man having wasted no time in spotting us as we’d arrived from his position on top of a large box, his one arm beckoning us towards him. “I need your help! Things here are starting to get seriously out of hand!”
“Uh, sure!” I answered, my momentary inspection of the yard coming to an end as I exchanged a wary glance with Freya, the both of us picking a path through the other adventurers walking about.
“What’s going on, exactly?” Freya asked once we managed to join Ritt, the man having jumped down from his perch with an all-too-familiar crazed expression on his face, his one hand coming up to steady a length of rope that hung over his shoulder before it could slide off.
“What’s going on?” he repeated, shaking his head as he let go of the rope to reach down and pick up a large leather bag on the ground beside the crate, its contents causing a rustling sound to echo out from within. “What’s going on is that we’re back exactly where we were last month with you adventurers giving me weird shit to deal with!”
His voice growing louder and higher pitched as he continued to speak, the next thing I knew I was holding both the bag that Ritt had picked up along with a second bag, this one visibly dripping with blood.