“Upon reaching Epsilon Centauri, humans were at first in awe of the ability our ancient enemy was capable of enforcing their will on our universe.
What should have been a short stop on the road to conquering the rest of the Centaurus stars became a learning experience and our first major setback.
From the outer ring of the massive star's gravity field, we observed three undiscovered planets orbiting the star's bright blue light.
The imperial fleet met in battle with swarms of beings out of myth and nightmare, from swarms of creatures the size of human children to great worms and tentacled horrors the size of a capital ship swimming through the void at great speed.
A few of the greater monsters were even capable of wielding the powers of their domains as skillfully as any of our Magi.
As the battle for Epsilon Centauri continued into its second imperial standard week, humanities forces were forced to retreat and seek refuge behind the partly constructed fortifications at Alpha Centauri.
Sadly, the gate at Proxima Centauri was destroyed as part of the fallback protocols.
Again, there was only one gate connecting Sol to the Centaurus stars.”
- Elistar Iscariot, Grand Magister during the second Kingfisher dynasty.
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Five meters of metal and a hundred kilometers of nothing was all that separated the soles of my boots from the surface of Kepler 442B. Nothing, not even the sound of my heavy combat boots slamming against the floor as I stomped toward my designated staging area, could be heard over the recreation of the pre-enslavement area song blasting inside my combat helmet: “Fought for ten decades for the Gods they made!” The eggheads said it was a close recreation of a song from some very famous music group from that period. I didn't care about its historical importance. I just liked the music, and the beat put me in the mood to destroy things.
Forcing my armored bulk through the stream of soldiers, I soon caught up to two similar-sized armored shapes. Logging on to the squad chat, I wrote.
Smiley: Chance of Fancy showing in time to jump?
Peanut: Well, when I sent him off last night, he brought the entertainment with him, all the entertainment…Slim to none.
Bullseye: He's a growing boy, be nice. He still needs to kick and shout. Besides, I damn well remember you two sorry mutts during the first few hundred cycles.
Peanut: Hey! I never brought an entire club back to the barracks!
Smiley: True words. We were good boys.
Bullseye: I distinctly remember finding you in The Sisters of the Emancipated convent on Proxima Centauri B on your first leave. Do you know why it only took me two days to find you? The planetary guard called central command, begging for assistance!
Smiley: Oh yeah. The Sisters were a fun group. They had a lot to teach me…So many discussions...Much back and forth. What can I say? I'm a devout follower of freedom, and you can't blame me for that ass hat calling the guard. It was just a slight misunderstanding between the jackass of a local lord and me. For some reason, he thought I was going to hang him by his intestines from his dining room ceiling. I think I still have his left ear in one of my bags. Good week, we should go back sometime.
Bullseye: There is so much wrong with those statements that I'm not even going to bother. Just be nice; it's Fancy`s first proper jump.
Handsome: Coming up on your six!
Turning my head slightly to the left, I could see the hulking form of Handsome plowing through the mass of people between us, followed by the smaller form of Blondie. To be fair, being smaller than Handsome didn't mean much. I have seen Ogre Champions smaller than Handsome. Only Peanut was taller and broader. Blondie still stood head and shoulders above the soldiers crowding the hallway, and that was when she wasn't armored up.
Bullseye: Blondie, Handsome! Good to go? Did you see Fancy or Grace?
Blondie: All good, mama. Grace went to get Fancy. Hopefully, they won't show up at the last minute. Any word on what's waiting for us?
Bullseye: Nothing, but we're about to find out. Sarge is already in the staging hall, pissed. In other words, everything is normal.
I let the squad chat fade out as we entered the staging hall. From what I could see, we still had some time before the fun began.
Soon enough, the enormous steel gray hall would be filled with a million people ready to lay down their lives for the freedom of humanity.
With Peanut plowing his way through the crowd and Bullseye's famous armor stopping any other legionaries from making a fuss, we soon found our spot center right in the front while staking two extra spots for our late comrades.
I could see Sarge and the other legion squad leaders standing together with the non-com of the planetary assault forces, or PAF for short, in what would be the front of the ship. Bullseye would already have informed him of our two latecomers, so all we had to do was hurry up and wait.
It didn't take much longer for the troops and the last few legionaries and PAF to file in. Everyone already knew their spot from countless hours of practice. I always found it interesting that so many people could be this quiet, but when most communication went by chat, it may not be all that strange. Every soldier had several augmentations under their belt and AIs that made sure their chemicals were stable with different cocktail packages and whatever else that could be imagined... no one was fidgeting, nervous, or showing signs of pre-engagement nerves.
Looking at the podium, I could see most of the offices were already there. We were only missing the big three when I heard the unmistakable sound of heavy combat boots slapping against the metal deck. I couldn't help grinning as I saw Sarge looking towards the entrance. If his helmet hadn't been in place, he would look beet red now by the way his right fist was clenching and unclenching. Over and over. Yeah, he was not a happy camper today.
Note to self: Stay on best behavior, mostly. (Confirmed) The AI in my helmet pinged in confirmation of the reminder.
Grace: We are changing quarters when we get back. I'm not spending another minute in that hellhole.
Fancy: Come on. It wasn't that bad…A bit of cleaning will make it as good as new.
Grace: There were fluids of who knows what everywhere! What the hell did you do in there? No, I don't actually want to know.
Bullseye: We will deal with it later. Hush now, children. It's about to start.
At her words, a segment of the wall parted on the podium; General David Johnson, Grand Magi Alfred Alberheim, and the towering form of the second legions Legatus Rufo Castillo entered the staging hall, followed by the rest of the brass and high-ranking Magi. If there hadn't already been silence, it would have been total as the three legendary figures took their place in front of the podium.
Not wasting any time, David Johnson said, “ I will keep this short. The target has fortified itself on the largest continent within a maelstrom mad of nature and rot. This is keeping all flight and entry impossible in a wide area around the maelstrom. The maelstrom currently covers nineteen percent of the world. We will make the planet fall outside of the influence of the maelstrom and commence retaking the land foot by foot until we reach the target.”
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I tried swallowing through my suddenly dry throat. With the size of that planet, the demon had to be powerful, more powerful than anything I had faced before.
Nature and rot. I had a vague idea of what would come from a nature and rot domain. Mostly monsters in various disease-ridden forms. Then again, who knows what a being standing in the middle of that maelstrom was capable of doing? I also knew the Magi wouldn't lift a finger until they were certain it wouldn't hurt their numbers overly much. In the end, it always came down to boots on the ground for some reason.
My attention snapped back as the general continued talking.
“It has been and is my distinct honor to lead the Second combat group in this life. You are the fiercest combatants and best soldiers anyone, anywhere, could pray or hope to lead. We have faced demons and horrors from the darkest reaches of the galaxy together, and we have won time and time again since our inception at the battle of Mars until now. I expect nothing less of you in this war. Humanity expected nothing less from its best. You should expect nothing less of yourself. To Victory, the death of humanity's enemies and for the loved ones we protect.”
Was it a good speech? Not, really. Did that stop the room from erupting into shouts of “To Victory! For the Empire! Liberation!” Absolutely not. The sound was loud enough that the AI running my sensory system muffled the shouts that were making the very deck of the starship vibrate.
No, our general had never been a good orator. He was, however, a winner. He won battles and wars at the cost of the enemy and not his soldiers. That sort of thing tends to make you popular among the soldiers.
Taking note of the magi starting their incarnations around the room, I took a deep breath and was about to do a short mental exercise to prepare myself when I saw the chat pinging me.
Sarge: Alright, Ladies and Gentlemen. No big surprises. Once we are planetside, it's a standard strategy. The Legion pushes and holds until the PAF has the defenses for the staging area set up. Then it's pushing and hold, followed by more push and hold.
Handsome: The size of that maelstrom… No intel on what's inside?
Sarge: It doesn't matter. It has to be taken down anyway. The Magi put it at theoretical rank 7 personification. We kill it now or when it comes knocking on Sol's doorstep. Personally, I would rather deal with it now.
Fancy: Can't the Magi do something until we have it in place?
Peanut: It's the other way around.
Sarge: The Magi won't do much until they can get away with what they consider acceptable losses. That means we scream, cry and shout until the demon is on its last leg, and they can take the glory shot, except for Smiley. He just smiles. You can expect some of them to send summons from their domains to assist. Just pray they remember to give the summons a command about friend and foe this time, so we suddenly don't find ourselves being eaten by something big and toothsome coming from behind.
Grace: And no planetary air support until the maelstrom is gone.
Suddenly, the Magi stopped chanting. Their amulets, staffs and other artifacts were still making patterns in the air. The energy in the room was crisp as if I was standing in the field just before lighting struck. I could only imagine the power of their AIs to run this many calculations, especially the Arch Mage, who stood at the front of the room controlling the entire spell.
Looking down, I saw a circle of scribbles around my feet. Then the Gran Magi bellowed commands in a language that made reality warp, and the scribbles lit up like the sun peaking above the horizon.
Sarge: Weapons ready!
It was all he had time to say before my world turned white, and between breaths, I suddenly found my combat boots buried in thick green grass and harsh rain beating against my armor.
Peanut: Contact
He didn't bother telling anyone anything more since his first message was redundant. I would have to remember rubbing it in later.
Both Fancy and Peanut were behemoths even by legionary standards and had weapon systems to complement their larger mass. Together with the AIs helping to stabilize limbs and target acquisition, the twin sound of high explosive rounds the size of light artillery shells spewed forth from their massive guns. Peanuts rounds left behind fiery red streaks that exploded out on contact in a shockwave of fire and fury. Fancy painted landscape in streaks of bright yellow and blue waves of lighting.
The enemy line, only half a click away, staggered under the concentrated fire of a hundred thousand legionaries, opening their domains to enchant their already powerful weapon system's destructive power and started bringing destruction on a scale that only the Legion could down on the enemy, which to my annoyance was far closer to our section than they were supposed to be.
We legionaries may not bring the diversity and knowledge of the Magi to the battle, but each one had access to a domain. It was, after all, the final test that made a legionary into a legionary. The other option was to die. That one in three died during the awakening had been deemed an acceptable loss during my time. Now, it was merely one in ten.
My targeting AI had already planned out the optimal fire sequence for me as it coordinated with the rest of my squad, and the squad AI coordinated with the rest of the legionary squads. Each legionary had a clear job and objective depending on their domain and capabilities. My job was taking down entities classified as massive or heavily defended leaders until close combat became necessary.
The feeling of apathy that came when opening my domain was so familiar at this point that I didn't even need an injection anymore to bring some humanity back into my thoughts, but it was still far from easy. It was always a fear of taking a step too far and being consumed by my domain. Leaving my body unresponsive and my thoughts lost in the devouring darkness. Yeah, it's as easy as walking the tightrope drunk.
Looking down at the sight of my railgun, I spotted one of my designated targets, standing twice the size of a legionary, face lumpy and twisted and clad in archaic armor. The Fomorian looked like the embodiment of strength and vitality. I should change that.
I had already seen him simply stop a hail of bullets enchanted with one of the water domains. With a casual wave of his massive curved sword, He sent a shockwave back at his attacker, fueled by earth and shadow ripping the ground apart as it closed the distance back to the legionary.
Even as far away as I was, I could taste the domain it unleashed. Old dirt, shadow and fear. It was a potent mix.
Letting the AI run the calculations, I pointed my gun where I was supposed to point and infused the tip of my tapered package marked for delivery with a drop of my domain before gently closing my finger on my trigger.
The Fomorian looked down at its chest for a moment before reaching a large arm around to feel its back. I knew from experience that there wouldn't be much left of its back to talk about as the enemy captain looked at its hand filled with thick blue blood.
It didn't matter if the bullet did go all the way through. The payload had been delivered on first contact, and I didn't have to wait long for the black globe to expand out of where the Fomorian captain had been. Engulfing dozens and pulling hundreds more toward the greedy void in the center of my little present.
Sadly, all good things must end, and as fast as it had appeared, the globe of nothing disappeared with enormous thunder as the air came crashing back, sending dirt, rocks and enemy bits flying across the battlefield.
The next target was a swamp drake, lumbering towards our line, too bloated with diseases and illnesses to soar through the sky. It was even struggling to move. The gigantic creature would have been a monarch in its land before it came under the control of the vile creature in the center of this travesty.
I was almost tempted to let it get closer to our lines as it was stomping and turning the closely massed group of what I assumed was the demon's endless supply of monsters into a paste. At least they seemed to come in endless waves.
To me, the main group of monsters looked like proto-humans if a blind child had been told about a human and decided to make one from clay. Large hands and feet, hunched over bodies. The part's primitive armor didn't cover their bodies; thick hair could be seen almost as thick as fur. None of them seemed to wield anything but clubs and sticks with sharpened black rocks fastened to them. I knew how deceptive that could be. I had once seen an obsidian spear carve a battle tank in two. When it came to the domains of power, anything was possible.
It was time to see what these things were made of. Sending a tendril of power to my sword, letting the power settle in the engraved patterns along its blade as I drew it with my right hand, letting the round energy shield grow out of my left gauntlet. At the same time, dark tentacles were slithering their way out of my armor, curling and hungering for flesh to rip and tear. I could feel my face split in a wide smile as I jumped to meet the tide of monsters.
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Sitting up while spluttering as I was gasping for air was becoming all too familiar. This time, it was just water. Trying to clear my head of battle and blood, I spotted my assailant. She even had the gall to brandish the weapon that was used in the assault me and proudly at that. My very own waterskin. How far the mighty have fallen.
“Mira! What the…”
“Now, now, don't be a sourpuss. The cleanup is almost done, and all your sorry behind has managed to do is grunt and snore. It must be that beak of yours. I'm sure you could wake the dead.”
Trying to save what little remained of my hat while at the same time gathering my thoughts enough to make sense of the situation. One moment, I was about to attack what looked like an unending horde of monkey men. The next moment, I was the victim of a malicious attempt at drowning. To be fair, I may have deserved it, but I would never admit it.
That said. The hat was the important part here, so the rest would have to wait. You have to stay focused in these trying times Alucard. Focus.
Then, what she said sort of clicked in my mind. Looking around, I found myself surrounded by carts and oxen. Carts fully loaded and then some. A few of the people seemed to be prepared to carry chests and sacks of things that wouldn't fit on the carts.
Right. The goblin camps. Turning back to Mira, I said. “Well, what are you waiting for then? Let's get going. No need to stand around and like a bunch of lazy bums.”
I may have said that louder than intended. The number of people ready to poke me with a dagger just increased by a lot, going by the stares coming my way.
Mira just started walking towards the lead wagon, shaking her head. Just can't please some people.