General Reifvus

“Orders, Commander?” Major Quare snapped a salute. Of the three hundred and fifty tier five soldiers present, he was one of the few not winded from their hasty advance. Even though every soldier present had access to their auras, that didn’t mean they were skilled enough to fly. This left their advanced party running atop the filth in order to maintain ranks.

General Reifvus clenched his jaw until it released a creaking groan, “I’m not the commander any longer, soldier.” Reifvus lowered his voice, his tone coated with venom, “That damn ghoul princess has too many supporters, mind your words before you make my situation even worse!”

“Understood, General!” Quare blanched, his gaze shifting to the sides looking for eavesdroppers but only finding those who had long been loyal to Reifvus. He made a silent declaration to keep his mouth shut for the rest of the operation; he knew where his loyalties lay and they weren’t with some upstart, skinless brat from an entirely separate metropole of the empire.

The tall mountains to either side of the narrow valley they occupied quaked constantly, sending rocks cascading down in rumbling waves. The smell of the filth beneath his boots was pungent and reeked of sour chemicals. It burned as it entered the lungs’ of the soldiers, sapping their stamina. Worse still, was the way it clung to metal and leather of their boots, making each step require more strength than usual. The rumbling sound of millions of advancing beasts strained the nerves, leaving even the veteran soldiers shaking and sweating.

“We’ll set up our defenses here! Spread out and clear a line through this shit. Diggers, I want a wall four meters high and thick an hour ago! Everyone else, rest up, we’ll be in the thick of it soon. Eat and drink while you’ve got the chance.” Reifvus motioned to Quare to follow him and they zipped forward on their auras, maintaining a tight distance from the ground.

They arrived at the top of the relatively flat mountain pass, a large valley between the next mountain range opened before them. Quare’s blood froze in his veins upon seeing the approaching horde. They crossed the valley in a rush, uncaring of the suffering they caused to their fellows. Uncontent with running side by side, their bodies were stacked ten high as they leaped atop their own in a tidal wave of flesh. Even stacked so high, the line of beasts still filled the valley like a flash flood overflowing the banks of a river.

“Emperors above, protect us in our hour of need,” Quare’s prayer tumbled unbidden from his lips as his limbs quaked with terror.

H-how could the scouts have missed this?! There’s no time!

General Reifvus spun around and ran without wasting a single moment. His orders were to stall that monstrous wave for thirty minutes and it no longer mattered if they were only tier three and four Graymin. With only three hundred and fifty tier fives and three groups of tier six mercenaries under his command, they didn’t have a chance in the abyss of succeeding as things were.

Dashing back toward their flimsy defenses, he was already shouting for all he was worth, “Make that fucking wall fifteen meters high in the next three minutes or we’re all dead!”

Oliviala Le’Cruex

Lostrifar squinted, looking into the two-meter-deep ditch before her. Olive stood next to her, eyeing the distance between their current position at the end of the northwestern trench and the nearest mountain face half a kilometer away. She could only pray that the spacing was adequate and that their preparations were enough.

The city was nearly two kilometers distant, and after its four kilometers of ward-reinforced walls, there was another two kilometers of trench that stretched to the northeast, all the way to the opposing mountain face.

Every soldier under her command was already deployed in their designated positions and she examined the troopers standing at attention all along the edge of the ditch, creating a massive V formation with the city at its center. They wore mismatched armor and weapons; the best that could be provided under such short notice.

“Do you think it’s possible?” Olive asked, her eyes returning to Lostrifars small yet imposing figure.

“Tsk, I don’t remember you being such a brat. When I agreed to teach you, you were such a sweet little thing. Did that boy corrupt your manners or did you forget who you’re talking to?” Lostrifar’s voice lacked any bite, as her mind was more focused on the complex idea Olive had presented to her.

Olive’s voice was sickly sweet as she responded, “My apologies, Master. I only meant if it was possible within the bounds of mana that my soldiers can supply. Obviously, no formation is beyond you.”

Lenton, standing beside her, chuckled, “If only my wayward disciple had such a silver tongue.”

Lostrifar hopped into the trench. The logs and bricks neatly stacked at the bottom began to melt together under the ministrations of her mana, forming a lengthening block of metal. As she walked, the materials continued to combine and as soon as there was room, the first soldier jumped in and rested his palms against the newly created formation housing. His mana was steadily sucked into the formation and as space became available, more soldiers jumped in to contribute to the construction as well. With an ever-growing supply of mana, Lostrifar was able to quickly move down the trench, none daring to interrupt her concentration.

Recognizing the look of intense focus on Lostrifar’s face, Olive turned to Lenton, lowering her voice, “Master Filibree, was Jiran truly so unruly when you mentored him? I’ve found him to be quite polite to those who treat him equally. Although, I will admit, his personality does become a bit… exaggerated when it comes to the pursuit of knowledge.”

Lenton and Olive walked behind Lostrifar and his aura blocked their conversation, “We got along well enough since he was surprisingly mature for his age. If I had one complaint, it would be his complete inability to stay out of trouble. That boy is a magnet for danger. Do not ever drop your guard around him.” Lenton scratched at his elbow, his gaze on the full moon peeking between thick clouds.

Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

Olive nodded, nibbling on her lower lip with scrunched eyes, “Yes, I am well aware. Though, I thank you for the warning nonetheless. Master Filibree, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course, of course, though only one. More than that will cost you,” He winked at her and she released a polite giggle; his proclivity to extort anyone and everyone when they asked for answers was a well-known quirk.

“Then I must thank you again for your generous gift,” Olive nodded politely, “When Jiran was curing Shaara, he expressed concern about meeting you again. He mentioned the possibility of being locked away and his freedom apprehended. Were his fears valid?”

“Such a priceless opportunity and you waste it on a boy?” Seeing her sharp glare, Lenton chuckled, “I jest, I jest. If you’ve spent any time around him, you must have realized that he’s a walking calamity. On the other hand, he’s the most likely to achieve the impossible and re-write our understanding of what is achievable. What do you think, Princess? Should he be locked in a cage, or set free to cause untold disaster?”

Olive didn’t hesitate for a second, “If you plan to restrict him, I will do everything in my power to stop you.” Her voice held all the authority she could muster. Given that she was speaking with one of the most powerful people in the empire, she couldn't help but cringe at sounding like a petulant princess.

“Such a straightforward answer. How unexpected, and refreshing. I’m sure you have your reasons. Hmm, could it be that you’ve fallen for the boy? Those who exercise power above and beyond the norm do have a universal appeal, after all.” Olive maintained a serene expression, though there was no way to hide from Lenton’s high-tier senses so she was certain he noticed the slight increase in her pulse and the touch of color gracing her cheeks.

“I can promise my personal feelings for him in no way color my perspective. I truly believe he can and will do far more good for the empire if he is unconstrained. Our purpose should be to support him and clean up any mess left in his wake. Because as you mentioned, he is indeed a walking calamity.”

Lenton chuckled and ran his fingers through his long white beard, “So that’s where your conviction is coming from? You know, if we did lock him in a cage, you would have easy access to him? Not only could you clean up after him, you could cook and tend to his children. Just imagine how much research the two of you could undertake.”

Olive frowned, casting a nasty glare at the old hero, “He once told me that you had a bad personality and I didn’t believe him. I should have listened. Are you quite done teasing me, Master Filibree? I would very much like an answer to my question.”

Lenton raised his palms to ward off her ire, “Please forgive, your highness. It is indeed a nasty habit of the elderly to tease our children. Unfortunately, your question is not one I can answer. My own personal goals would be achieved quicker if Jiran were to be on the loose, but I am ultimately not the arbiter of his fate. Once upon a time, he was hidden from sight but those days have passed. If the emperors convene and choose his destiny, nothing you or I say will change anything.”

Olive sighed, a bit disappointed to receive the answer she had expected, “For now, it is enough for me to know you don’t support locking him away. If someone did, they would never let him grow more powerful again for fear of him escaping their grasp. I hope if the time ever comes that he needs you, you will choose to support him as I have.”

Lenton’s eyes flickered to Lostrifar, resting on her small back long enough for Olive to notice, “Perhaps you’re right, perhaps not. Only time will tell.”

General Reifvus

“Spikes!” Reifvus’s voice was so loud that it shook the hastily constructed wall.

Two dozen soldiers at the base of the wall placed their hands upon the hard stone and mana coursed through their channels—taking on the elemental properties of the ground before flowing through their palms. Massive, rocky spikes burst from the far side of the wall piercing hundreds of Graymin. The protruding hunks of elemental mana couldn’t hold out long against the press from thousands of reinforced bodies and soon crumbled.

“Auras out!” Even the rookie tier fives with little control over their manabodies followed Reifvus’s order. An invisible wave of force pushed the wave of pawns back just before they swept over the tall wall. The soldiers grit their teeth as they poured their focus into controlling the elusive energy.

With the monsters off the wall for a moment, the general leaped from his perch directly into the center of the horde. He swung his fire-coated sword left and right, sending huge pillars of flame forward, melting hundreds of the beasts at a time.

Damnit! I’m down to thirty percent mana and it's only been five minutes!

The pawns screamed silently as they were burned alive but the inexorable tide of flesh rolled forward, dousing the fires with their compacted mass, uncaring of what was crushed beneath them.

They’ve killed more of their own just by approaching than we would in a day. I’ve been fighting Graymin for half my life and I’ve never seen anything like this. And this is just their scouting force! Not to mention the missing scouts. Just how much have we underestimated them?

Surrounded by an enemy he could no longer understand, a growing pit of venomous doubt bubbled within Reifvus’s stomach. It quickly morphed into an all-consuming, paralyzing fear. Sweat poured from his body as he craned his neck to look up at the truly massive wave of bestial flesh ready to crash over him.

“Commander!” A weak, insignificant voice tore through his mind, snapping him back to the present.

Reifvus leaped backward, landing on the wall just as the beasts crashed over the ground he had been standing on. With a deep breath, he pushed down the terror and fell back on years of training. When he shouted the next order, his voice was steady and strong, unlike his quaking fingers, “Auras out! Rain down!”

Once more, precious manabodies were expended to hold the beasts at bay as jets of water soaked the horde.

“Frost field!” Reifvus shouted and blistering cold swept out, freezing the moisture-saturated monsters solid and finally bringing a small moment of stillness to the intense battlefield. His voice quickly shattered the moment, “Fall back! Mercenaries: Spikes every fifty meters. Take up the rear and keep your auras out! Quare, Flinton, flanks positions, stay sharp for rooks!”

His order was echoed by a dozen officers as the others took their designated positions, “Fall back! Fall back!”

Men and women jumped from the wall, running for all they were worth as the fifteen, tier six mercenaries deployed layers upon layers of massive spikes at an angle. The ground heaved and split as stones shot forward to skewer the beasts that had easily bypassed their frozen brethren and overtaken the wall. The pawns barreled ever closer to the scrambling troops, only barely held back by powerful auras.

As they fled, something changed within the horde. For the first time in recorded history, an all too familiar language came from a million, fang-coated mouths simultaneously. Their eerie voices were filled with a deep and dreadful longing. Coming from so many throats at once, it was an eerie sound that reached into each of the humans’ chests to grasp their hearts and cloud their minds with an uncontrollable, newfound fear.

“Bring him, and live. Bring him, and live. Bring him, and live.”