“I didn't have a choice,” Helga said.

Her respectful tone only stoked Brunhild’s anger. She and Rollo were trying to make a fool out of her and it was working. Everyone was looking at her like she was hysterical, or worse, incompetent. She knew everyone thought this was all her fault, that if not for her, the striker ranks wouldn’t be fractured. And now Rollo was keeping secrets from her as if she wasn’t a captain.

“Brand’s listening spells are all over you, your team, and this building,” Helga continued. “His team can hear everything we say.”

“Bullshit!” Brunhild cursed. “I’ve already checked for Black Steel’s spells and removed them all.”

“You found the version of the spell he wanted you to find. The ones on you are more, ah, invasive, so Rollo used them to our advantage.”

Brunhild took a moment to look herself over with magical perception. She found nothing out of the ordinary, but if Helga was telling the truth, she wouldn’t. And the more time she took trying to find the spells only deepened Brand’s victory over her.

Deciding to confront Rollo later, Brunhild made her way to the room’s exit and blasted it off its hinges with a flex of her magic. “Let’s move out!” she ordered and flew into the sky, a green aura of flight covering her body. “Be ready to face the locals,” Brunhild said as she caught sight of Rollo’s massive mana shield then felt his dimensional lock a few seconds later.

The strikers gave their acknowledgment by following behind. Most ran atop rooftops with their mana throttling at a crawl but ready to burst into action at a moment’s notice. The rest flew behind Brunhild, keeping their attention skyward in anticipation of the North Bastion magic users that were no doubt on their way. Only Steapa traveled at Brunhild's side, his presence a silent declaration of his loyalty.

The deadly party kept its course, painting targets on their heads with the magic they expelled to quicken their pace. It felt unnatural to Brunhild being so in the open. Never in a hundred years did she think she’d be storming her way through a city without caring if she was seen. It went against everything she’d been taught, bringing on a nervous sweat as the seconds grew long and the true size of Rollo’s mana shield became clear as they neared it.

Somehow, Brand had changed the rules Brunhild’s world followed. Now the truth would be their cover instead of a cleverly crafted lie. They were indeed Vellian spies trying to neutralize enemy VIPs. That was now the mission and the enemy knowing didn’t matter. There would be no more subtle sabotage that left them unseen and out of danger. Now Brunhild, along with the strikers Rollo brought with him, would kill every apex magic user in the city before war found its way south. But first, they needed to capture Uhtred and Astrid.

Enemy magi were predictable and could be dealt with easily in a group. If someone truly powerful appeared, they’d die within seconds gutted, broken, and probably turned to ash by the best killers in the realms.

Only King Ragnar gave Brunhild pause. If he showed his face, her improvised quad would scatter and disappear. That’s what Astrid or Uhted were probably waiting for, taking the opportunity to pick them off. It was one of a hundred plans their twisted minds could conceive. Thankfully, at least one of them would be captured by day’s end. There was no chance that Rollo would fail.

“Something’s not right here,” Steapa said in a somber tone. “We should have been attacked by now.”

“We’re small fish next to Rollo,” Brunhild said. “The enemy must be gathering around his dome.”

Steapa shook his head. “No one worth a damn lives in that part of town. If anyone was heading there, they would have passed us.”

“Sounds like this may be a trap,” Dagfinn said to Brunhild’s irritation.

She looked back finding nervous faces sprouting amongst her squad. If death reigned from all sides they’d be just fine, letting years of training take over. It seemed uncertainty was harder to cope with than danger.

“We keep moving forward,” Brunhild said, because there was nothing else to say. It's not like she could turn back because no one was trying to kill her.

About halfway to Rollo’s mana shield prison, the tension finally broke when several knives brimming with magic flew at the strikers. They all exploded, some with waves of gravity slamming many into buildings. Some unleashed death magic to drain mana pools while others exploded with concussive force.

If they were an ordinary bunch of rouge magi, maybe half of the strikers would have died, but they all reacted with skill, even the ones caught in the blast.

Steapa was close to an expanding cloud of death magic but was able to escape, losing about half his mana. Dagfinn wasn't sent flying from a gravity wave by catching himself and two others with hundreds of mana threads. Ooba managed to encase several exploding blades in a mana shields, containing the force before it could harm anyone.

Brunhild herself was completely unharmed, but she didn't move to help. She was busy staring daggers at the one attacking them. From up ahead she saw her, the little fey kin floating in midair with a confident smile and a knife in hand.

“Astrid!”

“It's a trap,” Astrid practically sang then dove between the buildings.

“After her!” Brunhild ordered ignoring the warning.

She flew after Astrid at full speed, quickly eating up space between them while leaving the other strikers behind. Astrid just barely stayed ahead by darting through windows and smashing into walls to avoid slowing around corners. Brunhild was definitely faster but as a mage, she would injure herself by flying recklessly like Astrid, so she opted to shoot her target down.

With a pointed finger and a projection of her mana, Brunhild caused a spell circle to appear and explode with fire. The flames did not reach Astrid. They were repelled by either her aura or some enchanted equipment. Not dissuaded in the least, Brunhild abandoned fire instead using bolts of magical force blasting holes in walls and small craters on the ground.

Astrid staggered when debris slammed into her, but it seemed to only motivate her to fly faster and more reflexly. She spun around, her smile finally gone, washed away by blood oozing from several cuts Brunhild scored. In her hands were more of her knives that were only seen for an instant before they went flying.

The first to touch Brunhild’s aura nearly took her eye before she dodged, cutting through her protections with ease instead of exploding with magical effects. Hoping her attack was a suitable detraction, Astrid stabbed knives into the walls as she passed melting the stone in an instant. As Brunhild came within range, they reformed as spikes reaching out like a dozen spear thrust.

A single stone spike found its mark cutting Brunhild’s side but she hardly noticed as another volley of spell few from her fingertips. Each one sent Astrid sprawling never hitting her directly but close enough to slam her into the walls and the ground before she could recover. If not for Rollo’s dimensional lock, Astrid would have easily avoided Brunhild, but without her focus, she could do nothing but steadily gather injuries.

Astrid took a sudden turn as she kicked off a wall, creating a shower of stone. She entered a clearing without any hope of finding cover, except for a run-down tavern that she headed for like her life depended on it. Brunhild followed her, index finger glowing and trained on Astrid to end the chase, but she held her spell.

If she missed, the shabby tavern and its mundane patrons from what she could sense, might be killed. Astrid must have known this because she turned around giving a rude gesture as she burst through its door, ripping it off its hinges.

Brunhild entered right behind Astrid, smelling spoiled drink and vomit as soon as she took her first breath. She came to stop, floating just above the ground as the poorly played music halted. All eyes in the room met the human mage in a beast kin city, but not one of them was Astrid’s. Many patrons drew knives and finger crossbows, but one hard look was enough to give them pause. Only one fool of a man, a laughably tall jötunn who’d head grazed the ceiling, raised a crossbow in earnest. Brunhild didn't even look his way as she pointed her finger, causing him to burst in a shower of gore.

“You shouldn't have done that,” came Asrtrid’s voice from behind the bar. She leaped onto the counter, legs crossed, and perfectly relaxed.

The fey kin’s confident display sent a shiver down Brunhild’s spine right around the time she realized how alone she was. “This is a trap,” she thought remembering Astrid’s earlier warning.

She flew for the only exit with her heart pounding as if a knife was pressed against her throat, but it was too late.

The broken pieces of the door came back together, slamming shut before Brunhild could escape. At the same time, her perception was cut off along with the lights streaming in from outside, leaving the tavern pitch black; but Brunhild wasn't afraid of the dark. What had her filling with dread was the faint glow of runes spreading about the walls in a pattern all too familiar. It was a ward used to cage dangerous magi with the unmistakable design of a fortress enchantment woven in.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Brunhild‘s hand pointed forward all thoughts of collateral damage gone. “How did I not see this coming?”

“Kill her!” Astrid ordered the men and women around her that were now brandishing enchanted wands, baculouses, rings, and staffs that Brunhild’s perception had overlooked. Even now, as they flashed with arcane power, the weapons felt like nothing more than decorations.

The spell meant to finally teach Astrid a listen died as Brunhild was forced to defend against dozens of spells, all weak, but more than enough to seriously injure.

“Black Stee!” she raged while being forced back by constant explosions. “He did this somehow!” Her back was now pressed against the door that might as well be made mithril with her mana burning away in place of her flesh.

Astrid, all the while, sat back and watched, not bothering to join in. She was happy to let Brunhild’s magic slowly dim as the building shook from the strikers that were so close but unable to enter.

It was a torcher on Brunhild’s prideful heart, knowing there was no way out, that she’d been told of the danger, and was now forced to count the seconds before the end. Still, Brunhild could only think of Brand, his smug voice taunting her right up until her mana pool emptied and a flash of pain sent the striker into darkness.

********

A small foot taped against Brunhild’s head once, twice, then a third time just a bit harder to be sure she was unconscious. Astrid then looked her over just in case she’d taken too many mage bolts before the offered weapons ran out of mana. Some teeth were missing, a broken arm, some missing skin, and only one fractured rib made the ambush seem just a bit less effective. Astrid couldn't have gone three days without suffering the same while in training so Brunhild should be fine.

Astrid spun around and clapped her hands in congratulations as she addressed her men. “Good job! That went perfectly except for that idiot.” Astrid waved at the part of the room covered in the blood and entrails of the jontar Brunhild had burst like and over-filtered water skin. “What part of ‘no using crossbows’ is so hard.” She sighed. “There’s always at one in the bunch. Anyway, leave now if you don't want to die.”

Everyone moved without hesitation heading for a staircase that led to an underground tunnel. It was one of many that crisscrossed under the city serving as a means of distribution of products and an impromptu retreat. Astrid could also use the tunnel to escape, but not before thinning the striker’s numbers.

“Miss?” said the beast kin bartender behind the counter. He wasn't a part of any gang, just a man with a business that was about to be demolished. It was only natural he wouldn't abandon his livelihood without question.

“Leave now and I’ll have this place rebuilt,” Astrid said. She tossed him a gold coin. “That’s a promise.” The man then left Astrid alone with a battered and bruised Brunhild in a half run-down tavern with wards that were quickly fading.

Crossing her legs in meditation, Astrid cleared her throat before humming a cheerful tune. Her head bobbed back and forth enjoying the song just as much as the creature being lured to the surface by the mana infused melody. After about a minute, the floorboards around Brunhild were pushed out of the way by thick vines that moved like serpents. Within a few seconds, something larger emerged from the filthy soil beneath the tavern.

Breaking through the ground was the head of a massive man-eating plant, like a fly trap that could devourer a jötunn hole. White and red flowers began to bloom across its surface filling the room with a sweet-smelling paralyze poison. Thankfully, Astrid was safe, having taken the antidote beforehand.

The man-sized fly trap shivered as it smelled Brunhild’s blood. Faster than mundane eyes could follow, its tentacles shot from its mouth wrapping around Brunhild and pulled her in. She slid down its throat heading deep within the earth to the roots of the monster plant where its stomach lay as well as its beast core.

From what Astrid could feel, her monster plant was now in the mid-B-ranks, but its natural physiology made it much more dangerous. She was admittedly terrible at plant magic and would not have been able to grow such a monster at a moment's notice. But given about a month to prepare, and Brand’s focus to keep anyone from sensing it, she didn't need to grow massive plants in an instant; she just needed to control one.

With observation spells hidden outside, Astrid had eyes on the strikers trying their best to break in. Steapa’s mana formed into cubes before extending at blinding speed and making several sharp turns before vanishing against the tavern warded walls. If he’d been a little faster than Brunhild, Astrid would have been finished. His cubicle spells were too fast to dodge without her focus. He was basically a sniper that bombarded his enemy instead of making precise shots. He would have sent several spells flying, each one turning abruptly according to his will. Even fighting one on one, defeating him would not be possible. Every other striker was nearly as powerful.

Cora slashed out with a beam of light from the tip of her sword. It burned the ground, but vanished as soon as it touched the tavern’s wards. Dagfinn crafted large orbs of magic crackling with power. They took about half a minute to cast, but unleashed devastating explosions. Elma stayed further back with a few other snipers Astrid didn't know. They kept watching for enemies that wouldn't show. All the while, Ooba created lightning in balls held together with mana shields. He, along with other strikers Astrid didn't know, attacked with everything they could muster.

The fortress enchantment on the tavern was quickly filling the empty beast core it used as a reservoir. As soon as that happened, it would explode leaving only a crater where the building once stood. It was the ultimate weakness of the enchantments. Without someone like Brand to control and contain the power, it would go out of control soon enough.

There was no way to find victory outside of the tavern, luckily Astrid didn't need to step outside. She took direct control of her man-eating plant, her eyes going unfocused as her mind spread out.

“Time to thin the herd.”

******

Elma didn't bother attacking Astrid's little tavern fortress. Her longbow was drawn but she held onto her mana knowing the little fey had something up her sleeve. She wasn't the only one, Helga stood stoically on a nearby rooftop waiting for the obvious trap to be sprung, and there was no doubt that that's exactly what it was.

Brunhild had fallen into the first one headfirst and without reserve. Elma had been sure her captain lost whatever battle took place within the confined building. Astrid was a battle thirsty loon, but she wasn't a fool. If she locked you in a cage with herself she'd be the only one walking out. Brunhild’s grudge had gotten the better of her, but Elma wouldn't do the same. Steapa on the other hand, learned nothing from his captain’s capture.

“Elma, why are you just standing there!” he shouted while firing dozens of rectangular beams towards the tavern. He was standing far back, out of range of most spells but his strange focus kept the mana tightly packed together as it sailed through the air in its odd shape.

“I’m not playing into Astrid’s hand like Brunhild,” Elma shot back. “Why do you think no one has attacked us yet? She wants us here wasting our time and strength. I’m not doing anything until I know my arrows won't go to waste.”

“I’m the captain now,” Steapa declared. “And under no circumstance will abandon Brunhi-”

The ground around Steapa exploded in a shower of rocks and dust that clouded Elma’s vision. In one smooth motion, she pulled back on her bow, forming a spell in the shape of an arrow and released.

“Gust arrow!”

Just before the arrow sailed out of view, it released a powerful wind clearing the cloud of dust. What it revealed was Steapa, his veins green with poison coming from a large vine wrapped around his leg. It glowed with mana and slithered further and further up until he was completely engulfed. He went limp within the first second of being poisoned.

Cora, who was the closest to Steapa, turned to slash the vine away. But in the time it took her to take a step, he was pulled into the ground. No one had time to take another breath before the rest of the clearing exploded.

Cora was the next to go. Three vines, like massive wriggling tree trunks darted at her. She cut down the first two with a wide swing of her sword and the last with a second blade made entirely of light that burned as it sliced. But she didn't see the small vine that crept underneath her and wrap around her ankle.

The poison worked quickly, dropping the striker in a second. In a few more, she pulled into monsters depts.

Some strikers tried to hold their ground, hacking and slashing at the monstrous plants. But it fought with intelligence, fainting and using larger vines as a distraction to poison its prey. The strikers that ran didn't do any better. The ground in front of them erupted with even larger vines as if to cage them all.

Elma saw most of her quad’s numbers vanish beneath the ground by the time she took a knee. When she pulled back her bow, Dagfinn went down, the vines purposefully tugging on his threads to catch him. Faster than Elma could have believed, only Ooba was left. Any vines that came close were burned from lightning that leaped from his body, but soon enough he’d run out of mana and be taken like the rest.

Before that happened, Elma unleashed Striker Onslaught, releasing a breath with a burst of mana. “Multi-Shot!”

Elmas bow twanged with the beat of a hummingbird. Her arrows pierced the vines in waves, shredding the larger ones in moments.

The attack was no spell. It was a martial art that used a burst of throttled mana to fire three arrows almost at the same time. It was tiring and caused a burning sensation in her arms, fingers, and shoulder. But with Striker’s Onslaught, it was like shooting with molten metal as her blood.

Her fingers bled as layer after layer of skin was sliced away by the bowstring. Elma knew her muscles were tearing as if she’d been on a firing range for days on end. At the speed she fired, the slightest mistake would dislocate her shoulder. She had to do this while carefully aiming to not kill Ooba as he ran for his life.

The effectiveness of the combined actions was devastatingly destructive. In her current state, Elm could destroy a literal army without the right protections. When the other two snipers unleashed their own attack in the form of a massive flaming bird from Helga and imbued shots with so much power they sailed right out of the city from another striker, the vines were quickly destroyed.

Ooba landed next to Elma, nearly breaking through the roof she stood on. “What the fuck was that!?”

Elma plopped down on her rear, her right arm burning and hand covered in blood. It hung uselessly and probably couldn't fire a single shot. “That... was a plant-based monster. The fucking biggest I’ve seen outside of a rift.” Elma punched the tiled roof with her uninjured hand. “That little bitch got us!”

“Bullshit!” Ooba exclaimed. “Astrid is terrible at plant magic.”

“She’s shit at growing them in battle, but even I can control one if I feed it enough mana, and I'm not fey.”

Ooba turned back to the shredded vines and tavern that was still untouched. “At least you took care of that thing.”

The two buildings the other snipers were perched on exploded into splinters and vines. Elma wasn't even fast enough to see them be pulled underground.

“Well Fuck!”