The sun rose and Alton rose with it. The previous days sparring and training had his spirits high as he dressed and equipped himself for combat. He avoided the command tent yesterday so he wouldn’t worry about what type of mission they would draw. Knowing that Edoria had pockets of mindless scattered across the caves and mountains, it felt likely he would end up in one.
When he stepped out of his tent, he was pleased to see his team already up and performing a kata in the small yard near the tents. He walked out and sat to join them. The first half hour passed in peace as each of them stretched away the pains of yesterday. His core was back up to half after the heavy use during the spar. His ability to cycle while moving had increased on reaching the fifth tier. There was so much more to explore about his new abilities, he could feel it even if he didn’t know how.
The moment he knew was coming happened an hour after waking. A messenger walked into the square and announced that Wolf captain was needed in command. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before rising and following the messenger. A scouting mission was his first hope, something simple to cut the kids’ teeth on. Preferably, with no enemy contact, Alton thought that unlikely.
“Alton, good you’re here.” Major Corbin said as he walked into the tent.
“We had a communicator signal for rescue from a group of scouts that we placed on a mountain pass the Edorians have been poking around. You need to get up there, rescue the scouts, and secure the pass. Take Fox with you. We need that pass.” Corbin said in a tone that lacked his normal friendly demeanor.
“Yes, sir!” Alton saluted. An aide handed him an information packet, and he was dismissed.
He jogged back to striker quarters and whistled loudly once he arrived. “Wolf, Fox form up!”
His young wolves snapped to attention, and it was a credit to the respect he garnered that Fox team quickly came to attention as well. Davih even walked out of his tent half dressed. Alton unfurled the information packet and read through it.
“A group of scouts placed on a pass to watch for Edorian movement has sent a distress signal and requires rescue. We move out immediately to secure the pass and relieve the scouts. The pass is approximately six miles away and a steep climb up. Double strength, combat gear only, full reconnaissance equip. We move out in ten minutes.” He finished and Fox team went into action. Alton watched his team try to mimic the veterans to varying levels of success.
The strike teams used three levels of equipment for missions depending on how far they were ranging and how long they were expected to remain in the field. Combat gear meant what it sounded like, only the gear that was necessary for combat. Reconnaissance equip meant light travel rations and designated ten health potions to each team. Fox team handled the preparations while his wolves watched and learned. He was grateful it was a double strength mission for their first if they were to see combat.
Ten minutes later, eighteen of the finest soldiers in the Agorran army were on the move. They jogged at a swift pace through the camp and left through the western gate towards the last known location of the scout team communicator. Alton had given the map to Fox’s observer and had Prian tag along with him. Each of the blades and shields were paired with their counterparts from drills yesterday. Davih was in the middle with Alton bringing up the rear.
It would only take about thirty minutes for the strike teams to make it six miles to the entrance of the pass. Sergeant Rork of Fox paced the group and reminded everyone to keep cores above half. Most of Fox team could cycle while running as Alton could, his new recruits would struggle. The temperature dropped quickly as they approached the mountains. The pass was wide and looked to be an old road through this side of the mountains.
A mile up the rocky path, the lead observer held up a fist and dropped to a knee. Both teams stopped and dropped, waiting for a signal. There were at the middle of a hill with no visibility over the top. The trail looked to turn sharply to the left. Alton strained his ears from his position near the rear, but he couldn’t hear anything. Activating his manasight, there was no movement. The soldiers waited with bated breath until the observer began flashing hand signals.
Silent. Close. Danger. Unknown number. Prepare to fight.
The only sounds were swords leaving scabbards and shields being unstrapped. A series of hand signals between the observer and Davih had both teams line the trail just out of sight. Shields stacked with blades while archers spread out with arrows nocked. Both healers drew swords and buffered the back lines. Whoever came down that trail would be staring down death itself. Alton took the opposite side of Davih and knelt down with Fang gripped tightly in his hand.
Two columns of Edorian heavy infantry appeared over the hill. Alton counted somewhere between forty and sixty soldiers. He held his breath and made eye contact with Davih, who nodded. The strike teams were hidden behind various rocks and shrubs and wouldn’t be visible for a few more seconds. Davih held up his hand and placed four fingers up, counting them down for both Alton and Rork to see.
Four.
Three.
Two.
One.
Davih, Alton, and Rork whistled loudly, and both teams leapt into action across the path. Alton was the first to make contact and slashed out through one of the Edorians’ throats. Fighting broke out all around him and Alton felt himself grin. The hunt was on.
——
Amelia desperately tried to settle her breathing as she followed the Fox team sergeant’s lead from across the trail. She was stacked with Nelson, one hand on his back to let him know when to advance. Prian was behind her and up near a tree that had grown between two rocks with his bow drawn and ready. She could see his arms shaking. Rico and his team were farther down the trail, closer to Alton. She wished she was nearer to the captain. She shook herself and tried to put on a brave face. She would not enter her first real combat shaking with doubt. Nelson started a prayer to the Mad God, and she felt her nerve settle at his words.
“Mad God, in all your wisdom, instill in us the unwavering resolve to weather the storms that rage both within and without. Let your unpredictable essence be a beacon that guides us through this labyrinth of challenges, and may we emerge victorious, tempered by the crucible of your chaotic forge.” Nelson finished.
The whistle sounded, and she pushed forward on Nelson’s back and they both moved as one toward the fray. Nelson had his giant shield on his shoulder that hid her entire body behind it. The Edorian line was reacting too slowly to the assault, and Amelia dashed out with her sword and scored two quick hits across two unprotected faces. The soldiers nearby turned to aim for her and she watched an arrow bury itself in one’s neck. She parried a few hits and returned a few of her own before retreating behind the shield.
She huddled against the broad back of Nelson and took a deep breath to center herself. Loud clangs of metal sounded as the Edorians futilely pounded into the dense metal. One tried to slip around him, and she skewered him through the neck. Her hands were shaking, and she had to fight not to throw up. Arrows continued to fly in, each devastating when fired from an enhanced bow. Time slowed down and Amelia took three deep breaths.
One.
Two.
Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.
Three.
—
Rico slashed down through the shaft of the spear trying to snake around and hit Miser from behind. He followed it up with a punch to the Edorians’ face with the hilt of his sword. The stunned man back pedaled and Rico pursued with a stab through the gut. He pulled his sword out and turned just as Letty shot another one down. Their corner of the fight was going well as Rico took a moment to assess.
Two Edorians were trying to get past Miser’s shield but were too wary of Rico to engage. His core was well above half and he circulated liberally to speed himself up. His next two stabs each buried themselves inside Edorian guts as he took advantage of a well timed push from Miser. Rico tapped him on the back twice to indicate advancing to close the distance between his group and Amelia’s. Rico could see her with her back to Nelson shaking.
“Come on Amelia. Come on.” Rico whispered to himself. He was tempted to break formation and run to his fellow blade and sergeant, but resisted.
He whooped as he watched her snap out of it and slice another of the heavily tattooed infantryman from hip to neck. Their lines met and the twin brothers butted their shields together, creating a wall that no mortal man was getting through. Amelia nodded to Rico and gave a quick hand signal to maintain position. He nodded back, and they continued to dance behind the two massive shields. Bodies continued to throw themselves at the young team as arrows flew and Wolf team held.
Foe after foe broke upon the tried-and-true formation. Rico received a few minor wounds in retaliation for the death he dealt. Various emotions passed through his mind, trying to distract him as his body reacted on instinct born from months of vigorous training. He pulled more mana from his core, and his arm seemed to ripple in the air as he stabbed and slashed.
Just as he began to feel overwhelmed at the numbers, two more bodies dropped, and no one stepped up to replace them. He risked a quick glance to Letty, and she flashed him a sign for clear. Stepping out from around Miser’s shield and he saw why. Alton was far ahead of them, deep in the midst of the enemy, and death stalked behind him.
—-
The battlefield was a chaotic symphony of clashing steel, cries of pain, and the thunderous march of the approaching Edorians. Amidst that chaos, Alton stood alone. Fang was glowing blindingly white. His eyes gleamed with determination despite the odds laid out before him. His mana raged through him like a river, and in the distance he could hear a howl that echoed in his soul. He felt the temperature drop in his vicinity.
A horde of foes clad in menacing armor and covered in wild tattoos surged toward Alton. Equipped with various weapons to deal with all manner of foes except the one they faced. The odds were heavy, but the fire in Alton’s eyes reflected an unyielding spirit. His grip on Fang tightened as the blood of his latest victim spilled out around him. His emotions threatened to overwhelm him in a battle mania like the berserkers of old.
Alton took a deep breath and centered himself. The sheer numbers of the enemy threatened to crash over the strike teams holding the trail, but Alton would not allow that, no. The clash renewed as the first of the next wave reached him and their weapons rang out in the sweet song of steel. Each weapon glided through the air with killing intent, but Fang met none its match.
His movements were a dance of calculated precision, Fang an extension of his will. Alton parried, dodged and countered with a fluidity that would make sword instructors shed tears of pride. The relentless tide of foes continued to press down, forcing him to extend himself and push to a limit untouched before. He could feel the elites circulating as well. Finally Edoria shows their teeth. He turned and saw his little wolves facing off against superior numbers and something inside him snapped. His emotions rampaged through his self-control and he lost himself in the river of battle.
The battle raged on and Alton surged. Sweat mingled with blood on his brow as he pushed farther toward the top of the hill. The twang of bows and clashes of steel on steel formed the symphony that gave birth to his resolve. Alton fought not to survive, but to protect. The Edorians fought to conquer. They could never match the unbridled purpose coursing through his veins. He reached out to his core and his core roared back, borrowing power from another plane. Alton accepted the tide of energy without hesitation and cleaved a man in two with renewed vigor.
With every foe felled, two more took their place. Alton danced on the precipice of exhaustion. His stamina tested against the stubborn onslaught of a foe already defeated. His breath became labored as he cut down two more foes on a spinning back swing. In his peripheral vision, he watched two large tower shields plant themselves beside him and he smiled as his little wolves lashed out from behind them.
With a rallying cry, Alton surged forward once more, meeting the last of the invaders in a furious clash of steel. These were the elites now. Mana coursed through their muscles as they fought his team to a standstill. One stood above others, a massive man in armor of midnight. He felled a member of Fox team before standing tall with shield and sword held high. The Edorian slammed his sword to his shield and pointed at Alton. The battlefield fell silent as the fighting between both sides stilled.
Alton took a deep breath and turned to meet Davih’s eyes. His friend shrugged in a way that displayed the confidence he felt, like they were discussing dinner options at an inn. He felt out to his core and found it still a third full. It no longer raged like a river, but it remained energized and ready to fight. He pulled deeply from the alta stones stored on his belt.
Alton stepped forward and held out his blade in the traditional dueling gesture towards his foe. The man rumbled forward and slapped Alton’s blade away in a clear sign of disrespect. The moment lingered for ten long seconds. With a roar, Alton surged forward and the two warriors met in a clash of titans.
The two warriors join in the dance between life and death. Alton was delighted to meet a warrior that could truly test his new skill. Each time their blades met, it sung a deadly melody. Small wounds littered both soldiers as they broke apart and disengaged. Alton breathed heavily, the Edorians face hiding behind a helmet. His belt emptied, he reached out to his core once more and asked it for one more surge. Time froze and Alton felt something cold and alien, yet familiar answer.
—-
The battle had turned hectic as Wolf team scrambled after the suicidal captain. The plan had been to establish a beachhead following standard doctrine and let the enemy chew itself up on their formation. Alton had changed that as he led a one-man charge through the enemy, littering the trail in corpses. When they reached him, they formed a shield wall and fell back into rhythm at his side. There were less than ten Edorians left now, all elites. Each of them was fighting the strikers to a standstill while Alton took a breather.
The din of battle faded, and Amelia looked over Nelson to see both sides backing off. A giant Edorian was walking towards the line and pointing a sword at Alton. One of Fox team down at his feet. She cringed and watched as Alton looked at Davih and the man shrugged. Alton smiled and took a deep breath before walking forward and holding out his blade like a duel. He wanted an honorable duel! After massacring Edorian troops! What was happening?
The man was covered head to toe in armor that resembled absolute darkness. He had a half size shield with wicked edges like barbed steel. His sword looked like it was absorbing light the same way Alton’s was glowing. Amelia looked at her new leader and felt confidence at the outcome. When the fight started, she couldn’t even follow the opening move.
—
Rico panted as he tried to recover while Alton and the man in black stared each other down. He had taken a hard hit to the side that stole his breath just before both sides backed off. Miser was holding him up and handing him a health potion, keeping an eye on the Edorians across from him. The air around them was freezing this high in the pass and it was harder to breathe.
When the fight between the two started, Rico blinked and missed the opening move. He watched them separate and then clash again in the blink of an eye. Alton was surging at an incredible speed and Rico knew from his own mouth that he could sustain that for a minute. The Agorrans stood frozen at the sheer skill and power on display.
The clash of the two blades reverberated through the air, a mesmerizing cadence that echoed through the artistry of a deadly dance. Each movement was calculated, planned and executed flawlessly, a testament to years of training and honing a sacred craft. Rico marveled at the precision of their strikes and the preternatural anticipation that guided each counterstrike. Both swordsman flowed seamlessly from offense to defense in a sequence that his mind could barely comprehend. Rico knew that if he was among that blood stained dirt, he would have died in the opening salvo.
As the dance of blades continued, blood flowed from each of the fighters. Alton was limping and the man in black wasn’t raising his shield arm any longer. He saw Alton’s mouth move and his face broke out in a feral grin. Alton exploded forward in the single fastest move Rico could remember ever seeing and skewered the man through the chest while batting his sword aside and trapping it with his off arm.
The battlefield held its collective breath as it waited to see the final outcome. The man in black tumbled backwards slowly as Alton fell to his knees. He was smiling, a look of jubilant bliss on his face. The remaining Edorians dropped their weapons and held up their hands in the universal sign of surrender.
Rico’s mind snapped back into action as he heard Davih shouting orders to seize the weapons and tie up the prisoners. He followed his orders and kept watch over the healers attending the injured, while replaying that fight in his mind. No matter what it took, he would be that powerful one day. He said a silent thanks to Alton for showing him what was possible, how high he still had to climb.