4.

Erak stood with the patience of an oak tree, silent and resolute against the chaos of the world. The screams and cries of the dying splashed around him as he watched over the square, waiting for the professors to arrive. The mass of humanity was packed tightly, squeezing each other, praying to lost gods. All of it a jumble of despair and fear as soldiers fought with grim determination, refusing to back away even as the abyss beckoned them forth.

The hell tide never stopped. The silent bolts of the casters were a definitive ending to each of the targets and Erak watched as the soldiers' levels grew. He glanced at his own numbers before dismissing them. He was never one to leap to conclusions and toward anything unexpected. He could wait and see what the numbers did and then move forward when he had confirmation.

Finally, the sea of flesh parted and a harried looking soldier came trooping up, a pair of civilian looking people right behind him. Both wore nice, if now rumped and dirty, clothes. They had the faintest resemblance to military dress uniforms, but not as crisp or decorated. Pale creams with black trim, the crest of a black raven holding a scroll in its golden talons.

The professors had finally arrived.

“Excuse me, sir…Bloodsworn?” the younger of the pair asked. His soft features were plain aside from a nose of terrific size. Soft blue eyes were underscored by black bags and his rumpled black hair was hardly long enough to touch his shoulders.

Erak signed to him a brusque greeting and then nodded toward the awaiting officer corps. The second professor was old, face lined with crags that a mountain climber could explore. Frizzy white hair exploded off her head in a wave, still thick and alive in her ancient age. Glasses as thick as a battlecruiser's armor expanded her brown eyes to the size of saucers as she walked with the assistance of an ebony cane capped with silver. The handle had been worked into a sleek raven with rubies as its eyes, the gold talons transitioning into the haft of the cane.

“Genetic aberration, Julius. Simply look at the size of this one. Mother must have bedded a giant! You….yes, you. I know you can hear me, turn around and bend down so an old lady can see you!” Her voice was a whip crack, fierce as the frost in the darkest days of winter.

Erak found himself obeying without pause, his body conditioned to responding to commands. His helm came free as he bent his knees to meet the old professor’s gaze. She didn’t flinch as so many others did, for he knew there was much to flinch from.

“Maybe quarter giant. Bone structure is right, nasal cavity has the appropriate girth, brow is wide enough. Iron ring holder too? That newest Queen, she comes from the polar fields, does she not? A guardian sent with her then.”

Erak simply raised an eyebrow at her and rose to his full height, pulling his helm back on. His origins were for him and his Queen alone.

“Finally! Please, I wish to know what the Iron Ring bearer has to say,” Colonel Gressen pleaded. In the intervening minutes since Erak had stepped outside, the aging Colonel seemed to have wilted further.

Erak turned and met Julius’s eyes and began to sign efficiently. There was a minute part of his that enjoyed the soft man’s widening eyes as he parsed out what Erak had to say.

“Ummm…he wishes to go to the battlecruiser. The Sword of Empire. And…uhhhmmmm, Captain her. He says a broadside of the cannons to clear the creature in the rift, and then we fly to the palace to save the Imperial family.”

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“Oh. Is that all?” Gressen asked, his face having paled.

“No sir, he also wants all information accumulated about what is happening with levels, weapons, and anything of that nature along with a general report of the status of the soldiery.”

“I know little of what is the devilry happening today. That’d be better left to you two,” Gressen said, nodding at the two professors.

“As for the state of the soldiery. Two hours ago this event started. General Conroy ordered this battalion out of the Mid-City barracks and to secure this square one hour and forty-five minutes ago. We have discovered that our rifles have been…changed. Officer sabers, sidearms, knives, all of it has undergone metamorphosis. The rifles use essence generated from the troops. Somehow. We have sustained heavy casualties holding the square, but our perimeter is finally secure.”

Erak signed to Julius and watched with a grim grin as the man licked his lips nervously before glancing at the Colonel.

“The Bloodsworn wishes for all available troops that can be spared without losing operational security here. He will lead them on an attack on all forces between here and the armory and attempt to reestablish contact there.”

“I have few men. Lieutenant Nevia!”” Gressen barked and Erak watched as the smallest soldier in the area bobbed and weaved through the crowd, an energetic spring in her step. Platinum blonde hair and a button nose, freckles spattered across her face and serious aquamarine eyes. A curved saber rested on a slim hip, the handle not decorated as most ceremonial blades were. The handle was wrapped in sweat stained leathers, no embossing on the scabbard. It was a true utility weapon.

“Sir,” she snapped a crisp salute and then glanced nervously at Erak.

“Rouse your men, grab as many Adjudicators as you can reasonably rally. Also the commissar should go as well.”

“Understood sir. Where are we going?”

“Escort mission for the big guy. What is your name?” Gressen asked suddenly, his iron will rusting away by the moment. Erak flashed an annoyed sign to Julius.

“Ummm, he says he is the Bloodsworn.”

“Wonderful. You will be escorting the Bloodsworn to the armory and to the battlecruiser.”

“The battlecruiser, sir?”

“Yes. The Bloodsworn shall take it and use it to kill whatever the hell it is in that portal.”

“Does she still fly? Are the cannons operable?”

“That’s not your mission, Lieutenant. Your mission is to escort the Bloodsworn to the ship. The ship is on him.”

“Yes, Sir!” She snapped off another crisp salute and bounded away, already roaring out orders to gather her platoon to her.

“Now that they are done with their prancing about, I can interest you in my knowledge of what has arrived,” the old professor said with a wide smile. Erak had the feeling he was looking down the maw of a ravenous beast, itching and eager for its next meal.

“A new power source, or possibly an old one, has arrived and infused the world. Old magics are stirring, I saw some fool Practitioner actually use his powers for once. Julius, be a dear and jot this down. We will have to do an in depth study on this in the future, oh I wonder if Abelard is alive. I doubt it, but nonetheless. Where was I? Oh, yes, energy.” Erak had to refrain himself from rolling his eyes at the act the woman was putting on. He could see it, the way the others relaxed around her, leaning in to support an old woman in her dotage. Fools all of them.

“Essence. Now from what I’ve been able to observe it seems to be in the air. Soldiers are able to gather it slowly and use it fire through their rifles, casters now I should say. Now, on average, they are gathering enough energy to fire one bolt every eight to eight and a half minutes. Those who are stronger, who’s levels have increased, have reduced that time to slightly below eight. They are also reporting that they can infuse their bodies with this essence to change themselves. I will need to find and slay one of these Hellspawn to confirm this. Bloodsworn, oh what a foolish name, what name did your mother whisper to you in your cradle of bones?” Erak didn’t ask how she knew he was rocked to sleep in a cradle of wyvern bones, he just signed to Julius.

“Erak, oh how wonderfully drab.” Erak noted she didn’t wait for Julius to translate.

“Oh look, the soldiers are here. Julius, it’s time to go, Erak is taking us to the ship. I want you to take notes as we go, especially on how levels work.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Julis said while Erak had to ponder how she had attached herself to their group and no one had objected.