Chapter Five Hundred And Twenty One - 521
Mervin! Above!
Without conscious thought, Mervin Cors lifted his shield, Mana sizzling atop it in a sporadic show of blue light. Thankfully, the Skillor more likely, the thick slab of steel on his armwas enough to stop the gleaming Fire Arrows.
Shield Mastery is level 32!
Force Barrier is level 22!
It did not stop the charge of another Initiate, in whose hand glowed a conjured sword of light. Diurnal Rupture!
Drilling Thrust! Mervin cried out in response, and the sword in his hand lit up with streamers of blue and bright yellow, before forming a whirling, buzzing cone. Force and heat propelled his strike farther, skewering the Initiates broadsword near its tip. The blade shattered, and Mervin pressed his advantage, batting aside the pieces and committing to the attack. He thrust, and felt soft flesh and hard bone split, but not before the bastard stomped on his boots.
You Have Killed An Initiate Of The Inviolate Inquisition!
XP Earned!
Drilling Thrust is level 42!
Warning!
Stamina Is Less Than 10%!
Health Is Less Than 50%!
Status Condition!
Broken Foot: Severe!
Mervin shoved the dead Inquisitor off his sword, and fumbled for a yellow and red potion at his waist before biting off the corks and quaffing them together. They tasted like sour piss, but Mervin was beyond caring. The battlefield around him was a mess of dirty armor and flashing Skills, too wild and incoherent for him to parse much, but his team had cut out a moment of silence. He breathed, and flexed his grip as he fought to ignore his broken foot.
Things were going poorly.
He was surrounded by Blades, Bones, Fists, and the blue-coated Haarguard by the dozen, but they had been met by overwhelming numbers. After the initial volley from the Hierocratic forces, the warriors led by Commander Reed had been in trouble, and Commander Kastos had ordered them onto the muddy battlefield to bring the lot of them back to the wall.
Explosions ripped across the field, blooms of fire and ice and shadow, and Mervin barely ducked. How long had he been fighting?
Days prior, Mervin had started off eager to prove himself. He hadnt passed muster months back when Lady Aren and Commander Kastos had tested the Legionnaires. Before the Lord Autarch had vanished. Hed figured it was his time to show off the Skills hed sharpened to a killing edge in the Foglands, clearing that Domain and hunting the various monsters in the thick forests. With an entire citys powerful defenses to fall back on and an army bigger than anything hed heard the Guilders ever fielding, Mervin had been confident. This, he had thought, was to be his chance to be noticed.
It had devolved into a horror almost immediately.
First had been the spidersOrbweaver Minionswhose legs were sharp as daggers and whose fangs dripped with Apprentice Tier poison. Then came the Lamellan hordes and their nightmare spores. Mervin had seen too many people die, choking on blood and vomit as mushrooms bloomed upon their soon-to-be corpses. He had cheered the loudest when the mages had burnt the last of them.
Mervin heard a pained groan, and Thangle stumped forward to stand at his side, hair wild and unkempt. He snapped his fingers. Gimme that Mana Potion, then. He grabbed it from Mervins outstretched hand and chugged it down in three hearty swallows. Eugh! The things I do to keep you kids safe.
The sand wall burst apart, vines snapping, and sigils blown out as six Inquisitors in golden armor charged through it. Behind them, the orderly ranks of the Hiercracy followed in a terrifying rush, a wordless cry upon their lips.
Mervin raised his sword. For the Fiend!
Sword watched the battle unfold below them through heavy-lidded eyes. A chair had been brought to him, and though he didnt need it, he lounged indolently. The enemy could not see his face through his smooth helmet but they could certainly read body language, and Sword wanted all of the heretics to know that they werent a concern. Not to him, nor by extension the Hierophant.
Truthfully, he was bored. The battleif one could call it thatraged in sputtering volleys and wan Skills. Few hits landed from the Inquisitors thanks to the accursed fog, though the Paladins were having better luck up close. Fewer still were actually reaching Haarwatchs walls. There, though he could barely see it, ancient wards rippled with every stray attack, a patchwork shield that seemed dredged from some ruin. It was holding though, despite the assault by spiders and mushroom monsters his people had urged before them. Sword clucked his tongue, his boredom easing by the smallest of increments. The weaklings were no doubt fueling their wards with cartloads of monster cores and would run out sooner or later.
The entire battle was a farce. He wanted nothing more than to end it, but they werent here to murder the trash. They were here to teach them a lesson.
To defy the Hierocracy was to defy the Pathless Himself.
Yet the heretics refused to back down. Worse, they were picking off the weaker among the orders, slaying them through cowardly tactics and Mana Skills that were flung from the walls with little regard for conserving their energy. He had counted at least two hundred mages there, and more must have been rotating inor else these children had more Mana at their disposal than was possible.
Theyve clearly trained to fight in large groups as well. The heretics possess a meager amount of skill. More than that, the salvaged monster cores indicated they had able alchemists and inscriptionists to hand. To recover so many usable cores to run an entire city that had been stripped of its defenses only months prior? Sword wouldnt be surprised to learn that every warrior was trained in the recovery of such things, foolish as that was. Few would waste their resources in such a way. To teach disposable meat shields how to craft was akin to instructing an Avum to dance; all the bird was required to do was run when commanded.
Tome hummed to himself, flipping a page in his overly large book. The silver filigree flashed in the afternoon sun as his long-time ally peered over the prow like a curious bird. They are strong, but not strong enough. Were we to concentrate our efforts, I predict a five percent chance of our loss.
Thats too high. Spear asked. I could end this with a single spell, Tome. Theres no chance of us losing, if we actually were allowed off this damn boat.
Explain, Tome, Sword demanded, not bothering to look away from the battle. Together, the four of them could best any Grandmasterand they had the record to prove it. Spear had the right of it; were they to apply themselves to this paltry conflict, it would soon be over.
Because we havent seen their leader yet, Mace growled. Tome in that languid way of his. She gripped the thick weapon at her side and leaned against the thick span of her tower shield. He better show soon. I want to see how this man likes the taste of his own blood.
Patience, Sword ordered.
This Autarch is a coward. Hiding behind his fog and his walls while his people fight. Spear sniffed, her voice faintly metallic behind her helm. This would be over already were he simply to surrender.
The lessons must be taught, Tome said before looking at Sword. But perhaps we can speed up the process?
Sword tapped his chin. Very well. Arm the Mana Cannon.
Mace yanked her huge shield from the deck with a single hand. Yes! Let loose the cannons!
Target, my Lord? asked an Inquisitor with an exacting bow.
Ahmm. Sword leaned further back, stretching his back needlessly. The image was all that mattered. Aim for the gates.
As you wish, my Lord.
