39- FIGHT!
Osiris could feel the hair on the back of his neck rise.
There had to be thousands of them. They were running, cutting the distance in seconds, many headed straight to his platoon. His cheshire grin bloomed from ear to ear as everyone shivered from a sudden drop of pressure. Osiris’s feet kicked up, his hops speeding up until he felt it. They were behind the brink. It was time.
“They’re here.”
The boy vanished, leaving but a broken afterimage in his wake.
“S-shit, Wait! Fuck!” Hakim should have seen this coming, but he was too happy about his men finding a will to live. To fight.
“CHARGE!”
They ran after him.
Bastards, the lot of them. Every single person here was a bastard of some kind. A bastard husband, a bastard father, bastard children, every single one of them was condemned by their countrymen in some way. That was why they were here at the front.
Some of his men may be young, but faced with a reality like theirs it is clear how little their Kingdom values their lives. Yet they were still here.
Even filth has a home.
Their battle cry was glorious. Nothing but the raw power behind men and women on the brink of death.
Osiris could see nothing but dogs.
They were everywhere. They shot out in packs, well oiled machines working in tatum with one another as they broke into the clearing. Then there were cats, the big kind. All their bodies were ripped with muscles, he could not tell the females and males apart. He was sure there were some, he could smell it. It smelled like a dog pound with a bitch in heat.
The bulls were something else entirely. Some wore armor, others carried axes and amalets, and some were bare handed. Carnivores and herbivores all working together as one. He even spotted a few beastmen that looked like walking, beefy komodo dragons. Their tails were long, thick. He could see the air split in two from just a flick.
Osiris met them in the middle.
The boy stopped, pivoted, and did a reverse roundhouse kick to the dog’s face.
“Shotguns kind of explode, right?”
The head beneath his foot popped like a watermelon. It carried with it the sound of a double barrel shotgun discharging.
So his idea worked.
The boy’s smile became ferocious.
Osiris followed through with the kick, pushing past the beast’s spine to connect with another’s knee, he thought of a pistol this time.
“..”
The result was lackluster.
Osiris kept to the shotgun, aiming for the hearts, heads, and legs of the beasts. To them it was like trying to corner a mouse. They were fast, but he was faster, but only just barely, like just enough to be annoying, slippery. Osiris cackled when he managed to fake out another into stabbing their ally in the side.
The beastmen were strong, but they were tunnel visioned. It was by no means a weakness, but it allowed Osiris to get away with a lot of things. Like now, as he slid under a rhino, thighs so thick they were as wide as he was tall. Osiris aimed his foot up, straight through his middle.
“Let’s pray I survive.” His hands were held in prayer. “C4, you’re up!”
The beast’s bones became shrapnel to the men around, luckily, none of them were his men. Right. He needed to be careful, for now. No one there has made an enemy of him, yet. And the ones that have are dead. The repercussions are non-existent.
In the real world he had power.
His soul raged with anger like a monster.
Again he was denied something he should have had at birth.
It might not have had to come to this.
Osiris laughed.
Another beast tried to bite him. Their eyes were playful, spiteful, he could see himself reflected in those beautiful blue irises.
The game was just beginning.
Osiris crossed his hands and grabbed a jaw in each, twisting and pulling, tearing them apart as he forced them in opposite directions. The crunch of their necks snapping was loud. They had thick bones. He used a falling body as a launch, making sure to plant his feet at the base of the beast’s skull. It popped like the rest, turning into mush and paste.
The beasts were relentless.
Even when one fell another took their place, face more twisted than the last.
The more their brethren fell the stronger they became.
Osiris watched a few light up and expand after he, rather violently, forced a beast’s claws through another’s heart.
Then the mana started.
Everyone collided, men and beastmen roaring as they met. It seems he had ran above the rest.
His grin was nasty.
“Those are E and F class monsters.”
The soldiers shook as the beast charged across the field. These were the lowest grade beastmen. They didn’t use mana often, most of their attacks are easy to read, but they’re fast, deadly, and unpredictable.
Fran grit her teeth.
Their plan to trap them in the canyon failed.
They managed to fake them out and come at them from the side.
Now the entire corps was forced to fight.
“There are some D classes too.”
Her men cowered.
“Pathetic.”
“READY MEN!”
Soon the entire division was geared up.
“CHARGE!”
These motherfuckers were sturdy.
Osiris struggled, had to do a lot more dodging with the lizard men. Their tail’s whiplash was laced with mana. He saw one slice right through a soldier’s leg as he dodged. Osiris mocked the beast.
“Stupid bitch. Missed me again.”
Osiris ran zig zag, kicking up dirt as he dodged another hit. He rolled. A soldier glowing like the sun caught his eye. Oris laughed as the lizard missed him as he ducked and weaved, running straight for the soldier, their eyes met.
“Throw me.”
Osiris reached.
“Draw.”
A mana leg shot straight back, right at the lizard's face.
“Hook.”
The claw sprawled wide before digging into their skull, crushing it and latching onto its shoulders. Osiris held on as his hands connected to the soldier’s.
“Up.”
The woman grinned as she held the boy’s wrists and began to spin. The lizard’s body cleared a path before the woman launched him straight up.
It was beautiful.
He could see mana flying, demons fighting, beasts roaring, everyone was fighting to live.
Osiris fell first as the body continued to rise above his head. He spread his limbs out, letting the unforgiving winds scrape across his skin as he smiled. Then the dead body began to fall. Osiris yelled and he forced the body around him, kicking it forward and back until he was a spin wheel of orange flames.
“Grenade!”
The body exploded, splattering blood and bone before his foot hit the ground. The resonating boom threw bone and hot coal shrapnel in a firework show worthy of Kings. Beasts screamed and yelped as hot ash and bone pierced through their flesh.
The boy’s cheeks flushed red.
“What the fuck is happening down there?!”
Platoon Sergeant Will grit his teeth as he took down another mutt.
“How the hell would I know?!”
He and a few of the other platoons were being boxed in. The beasts managed to break between their lines.
“You’re stationed closest to them!”
Will felt like hitting the man. The last platoons were always the bottom of the bottom. They were what the country wanted gone. But even their squad, which was commoners, did not fall into the category of trash that makes up the seventeenth platoon.
Another boom erupted across the field.
Osiris pulled two tanks together and yelled.
“Brace.”
Osiris flooded mana through the ground and cracked it as he teamed up with the men behind their shields to keep the beasts from pushing them back. The moment he felt it give he moved, parting the shields to make a tiny triangle pocket opening at the bottom. He slipped through and used the beast’s tail as a ramp to plant a foot in his mouth and use his hands on its upper jaw. He ripped until he saw its brain. He made sure to grab a piece on the way out.
More of the soldiers realized Osiris was working with them and helping them around their kills. He was running, sliding, moving, sometimes even forcing them to kill. It didn't matter if you wanted to or not, he was making you. Over and over, the ones who caught on were the ones surviving. The ones that didn’t were dying. Everyone realized that working with him and guarding him was the best option. The unit turned into a giant guard system. It spread across their platoon like wildfire. Not one person refuted.
Osiris moved more. The beast fought dirty. They would sacrifice themselves to save their own lines, but if they deemed you a threat no one flinched when another used them to get to you. It was getting ugly. More blood was spilling, the ground was getting slippery. Everyone was struggling to stand, but they had the upper hand. They have been living on these lands for months. But that did not stop the beastmen from trying to tear them apart. Osiris saw a dog break another dog’s jaw. They were getting snappy at each other like a pack of chihuahuas. Osiris’s pearling laugh pulled their faces back, they were no longer smiling. Osiris kept going.
He was starting to feel a change.
A snail beastman surprisingly showed up. They were slow, but sturdy. Their skin was as hard as steel. They oozed a toxic slime on their underbelly that hissed when it hit the ground.
They smelled like burning plastic.
A simple flick of their, what he assumed was a tail, caused an entire pitcher worth of slime to be thrown his way. His smile strained as he had to twist back, run on his hands, and fling his body to the side and into another beast, grateful for his pole dancing classes, and spun around their legs and on their back as the acid splashed against their skin. The flesh on their face melted off, leaving bone, muscle, and puke to spill out of the beast's decaying mouth.
“Ouf. That had to hurt.”
Osiris ran and dove and used the beastmen as a shield, letting the stupid, dangerous slug throw his weight around and destroy a good portion of the surrounding enemies. A bull triple their size stepped on the snail, pushing past it to face him. Osiris watched the beastmen clear the way. Osiris turned and threw in a little show of shadow boxing before the beast aimed a fist at his face. Osiris ran up and around his arm, slithering his way to the top. He planted a foot in its eye and yelled, “Fire in the hole!”, before a fantom claw wrapped around its head, and blew up. It popped its head off like a cork.
He was starting to see the beasts flinch.
Osiris hummed.
What a fun thing to learn. He did not have to say the trigger words for the weapon to work. He just had to think about them.
It turned into a game show.
He was clearing their floor faster than the rest and the beastmen around them were getting desperate. Some even froze. But, as if they were under a command, they could not run.
It was time for him to move up.
He popped one of five of his, maybe not so maybe smuggled x grade healing potions. He did not bother with the rest. He wanted to grow on his own and prove that he just needed a quick.. refresher once and awhile. The addict in him reared its ugly head. He wondered why this was his thing.
And why this curse followed him into this body.
Darwin stared down into a globe playing out the current battle between his brother and the beasts.
This unit was stationed far from the actual war, and connected to thousands of scouts that ping them how important they think a battle is.
They were on monitor duty.
They were to report to the Staff Sergeant who will report it to the Lieutenant who will tell the Lieutenant General what is going on. It is a tedious, but necessary regulation. A battle needed to be deemed important enough to be shown.
Darwin stared down at a battle they clearly needed to see, but they are all forbidden to show anything related to Osiris unless it was of his death.
Not of his victories.
Darwin sighed.
He couldn’t. His brother was tearing through beastmen like they were bags of water. Cartons of milk. The explosions from their bodies damaged everything around them.
The other companies needed to be warned.
“That’s your brother right? The bastard?” A noble chatted. They always chatted to him. He hated it. He’d rather deal with Zayd’s whining than this. That bastard was out falling in love or something. Darwin was jealous. “What kind of booster did they give him?”
“None.”
“What?”
“I was informed he only took his x grade health potion and refused the rest. He said it felt like cheating with the rest. Something about paying for it later…”
He felt his hand begin to shake.
The nobles noticed.
Other spies of the King and Queen, and other families watched in baited breath.
“Spread it, try to get it to the head before he makes it there.”
Darwin’s eyes glowed as he activated his gift.
A few faces looked at him.
“You think he’ll make it to the top?”
What Darwin saw was a never ending line of carnage as his eyes played out a scene of the near future. Even if his gift only let him see a few seconds in, it was still something that should not be ignored.
“I think he’ll make it to their Commander.”
A fever overtook him.
Osiris did not aim for the soldiers, but he no longer cared if they got in his way. His hits were getting heavier. More. He ran more. He hopped on top of the beasts’ heads and made a beeline across the field of bodies. Some of the soldiers moved, some were blown beneath his feet.
A pearl of laughter could be heard followed by ear splitting noise, and bright lights.
Osiris was living the dream, making a mess out of people trying to make a mess out of him while pissing the ever living shit out of them!
It felt like together they were taking out their anger on the world! On a world that has thrown them to the dogs. A filthy fight to the death.
The deeper he dove the more he could feel it.
The leader.
He was getting closer.
“Hold!”
Hakim forced his unit to slow to allow space to grow between them and the Prince.
“What, why, he’s getting too far ahead again!”
“Look at him.”
The command was firm.
The unit looked at him. He was not actively aiming for their allies, but he wasn’t going out of his way to avoid them either.
“He’s lost to his mana. We should just be glad he knows who the enemy is.”
“Listen up! We’ve just been promoted to clean up! Catch the stragglers, warn the others! Get moving, we are going to have a lot of ground to cover today!”
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Osiris was brimming with joy. Happiness. Ecstasy. Euphoria. He was living on a high like no other. He has become an acrobat. A dancer. A fighter, a winner.
He has yet to miss a kill.
Only the ones he targeted personally have died by his hands. Even he cannot fight them all. But he was trying, oh god, how he was trying. This was the best. It was fun. It was loud.
It was him.
Sergeant Will could not believe what they were seeing.
The Prince was killing everything in his path. Will watched as the Prince swung, aiming right for a beast’s skull. A soldier slipped between them.
Like the beastmen, the Prince did not falter in his punch. He made a hole through the soldier’s heart and kept on moving until the beast’s skull caved in. He wasn’t attacking his men, on the contrary, he avoided their side and only attacked the enemy, but he was still dangerous.
Will realized they were getting in the way.
“Everyone move it! Back up and work on clean up! Spread the word! Make room for the Prince! That’s an order! Move it! Anyone who doesn’t dies!”
It quickly became clear that the command was not a threat, but a warning. The Prince was mad. He carried with him the sound of sharp, short whistling followed by loud, deep, bone rattling bass that traveled through the ground and shoved waves of boiling air down their throats. It smelled of ash, blood, and rot.
Beastmen go for a pretty penny on the black market. Their skin, bones, teeth, eyes, really any part of their body can be used to create potions, weapons, or any mythical item, but they rot quickly.
Mana will always return to mana.
Their world was as vicious as its creations, and the proof laid beneath their feet as other critters began to risk a bite while the battle commenced.
The boy was getting faster.
More. More. More, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more, more.
Osiris wanted more.
He finally got it.
He finally understood.
His mana just wanted a task.
That’s all it wanted.
If he thought it, it tried to recreate it in the best way it knew how, in violence. The best of his results revolved around explosives. He could feel the difference in power when he tried them out. Some would take a real good bite out of him. Others wouldn’t even put a dent on his reserves.
It was fun.
Fran watched as a chain of howls set off from the bottom, each of their scouts yipping and spreading a command that made all beasts turn that way. Those used to war used the distraction, the others looked. Fran was one of the ones that looked.
A blast of hot, muggy air flew across the field as a plume of orange, scorching clouds rose straight up into the sky.
A few minutes before.
“I’m sure cell phones don’t really blow up like this, but I’ve seen it on tv once!”
The pop made a different sound than before.
He could almost hear a tune.
He tried another one, a tiny gas station explosion- that one took out a bit TOO much of his mana. He popped another x grade over his legs, it splashed across his lower stomach, staining his crotch in a teal splatter, almost like spilled, toxic spinach.
So some of his fantasies are a bit too strong for him at the moment. His little grin turned vile.
A chain of baying set off across the tundra.
With a new will on life he jumped into the air and did a howl on his own.
“AWOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!”
Fran watched the child agro the entire army.
It set off every single one of their skills.
“STAT UP!”
Vials of color broke and splashed across the Lux Army with every head realizing that the boy just set off a fucking frenzy.
They will begin to attack anything that moves, ally or foe. Alive or dead. But there will be one goal on their minds. One single, deathly goal. And that will be to get to the boy and kill him by any means necessary. This was why Adventerers require high rates when they travel through beast land. If you set off a pack, regardless of their race, if there are breatheren near they will always come to aid, but only if you manage to agro them this fucking badly.
Fran sent out an emergency signal, but it was too late, everyone’s signal was going up.
“Lieutenant General-”
“Hush. Not now.”
The tigress was mocking them.
She waited openly, proudly in the field like bait on a hook. Bishop could feel it. She was a C Class bordering on B. This must be their awakening right.
“Fuck.”
No one but the front platoons were to fight today. It was custom for their Kingdom to protect the strong, just as it was for many others, but the beasts read their move. It was their loss.
“Bishop.”
His eyes widened as he snapped to look at Tomas, the Queen’s knight. Even if he whispered it, calling him by his first name so blatantly- The howls reached them. The tigress’s ears perked, she looked towards the noise, curious. Bishop hated that she did not look bothered by it.
Was it one of their men?
No one said the child’s ego was this big.
It felt like sandpaper on dry skin. Like scraped knees and burned hands.
He was still miles away.
“Come look at this!”
One of the scouts that passed messages between the units popped into their tent. He had a globe in his hand. Walking up to their prompter he dropped it into the lens. A grainy, but visible mess of a battle popped against the tent wall.
It was something alright.
The boy jumped above the crowd and combined delay with mines. The first line of rock blew straight up in shoots, leaving behind a false sense of security. Then the second barrage goes off.
Osiris was covered in sweat.
His eyes were black, coloring gone. Even blinded in one eye he danced around the beastmen. In fact, he quite enjoyed throwing in a little dance to his kills. It makes the other’s really aggravated.
Osiris ran faster.
He was almost there. He could feel it. If he could make it to them, if he could kill it.
Then he made it.
He won.
His first win of many.
The boy’s teeth splashed with blood.
He licked his lips. Some of the beasts were having the times of their lives. He could see the flush of fever in their eyes, in their breath, like they were living for this.
He responded in kind.
They started to cannibalize each other.
Loud, echoing, ruptures of explosions started to cry out in the distance.
The Tigress's ears twitched.
When the first one swallowed their brother’s snout he was disgusted. Then he watched their wounds heal and their bodies change. It was almost like they were forcing a level up.
Faster.
He had to be faster.
But his second wind was running out of steam. He played a little too much these last few hours. A ram clipped his arm, shattering it in twenty rough breaks. Osiris dodged a claw. He needed a breather, just ten seconds, but these bastards were relentless.
Osiris nearly tripped.
The beasts became faster.
“What’s happening now?”
Clean up was slow. The Prince’s hits were getting wider and wilder. The ground he left behind was poisonous. Mana radiated off the scorched ground and burned flesh. Whatever the boy was doing with his mana, it was fatal.
“The Prince is slowing.”
Avert snapped her head up.
He was.
Avert looked through the whistles on her chest.
“Come on, come on, comeoncomeoncomeoncomeon-”
She blew the stick.
The spell flew towards Osiris and trapped him in a small dome. He stopped and heaved, puking up whatever food he had that morning.
Ten seconds, he just needs ten seconds.
“Protect the Prince!”
An echo command made the rounds around the closest parties and they started clearing the build up of beastmen around the shield. Osiris leaned a hand on a knee. His brain felt like it was pulling from his skull. His entire body shook.
Nine.
The barrier chipped.
Eight.
Osiris fell on his knees.
“Breathe.”
Seven.
He felt like he was trapped in a box.
Six.
He couldn’t breathe.
Five.
The barrier cracked down the middle.
Four.
Osiris punched the ground.
Three.
He leaned forward on his head.
Two.
Something powerful moved.
One.
The leader was close.
The boy broke through the barrier. Osiris slid into a gap that showed a straight shot to the boss.
“Found you.”
Soldiers and Leaders all watched as the beastmen stoped and did not follow him past the clearing. They, instead, retreated and turned their aggression towards them.
“Your leader will face ours now.”
The dogs attacked.
Using his one hand Osiris snagged the three remaining vials of potions and drenched his body. His eyes nearly closed in pleasure as his arm snapped back into place. His reserves were full.
He was overflowing with mana.
Bishop watched, in slow motion, a blur of a child jump past them while dousing himself with three vials of, what he assumed, were potions.
A bit splashed on him.
He smelled it as it sunk into his skin. They were x grade potions. His eyes widened in disbelief and awe as he turned to watch this little hell spawn charge straight at the commander.
“Bludgeon.”
The resounding boom took some of them to their knees. Everything, minus the warriors, became devoid of color. Bishop looked down at his arm.
The air was hurting him.
He could see his skin begin to peel and bleed.
The Tigress smiled.
Her shoulders widened, spreading out her deltoids, scapula, and traps, stressing her neck, bulging.
She met his blow and did not move an inch.
The two of them grinned at one another.
Bishop felt a chill run up his spine.
Her hair rose in a beautiful striped mane that puffed up like a spooked house cat.
She met him teeth for teeth, claw for claw.
Her muscles pulsed, face turning more feral, more animal looking by the second.
She was the anomaly to Osiris.
She appeared to have human features, but only enough to form their basic shape.
She was destructive.
Her speed was nothing like the others.
He was taking damage.
He laughed.
The Tigress could feel it.
The kit was powerful.
The Tigress trapped the boy between a thigh and a calve. He tore through her flesh with his teeth.
She laughed.
The boy was fighting like a beast.
The irony was unfathomable.
It was laughable.
Bishop couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The boy he watched grow in that castle, in that prison. Isolated, hated, repressed, censored.
Osiris met the beast blow for blow. Hit for hit.
He fought like a dog.
Punches aiming for the kidneys, ribs, anywhere that would cripple. If one even so much as slipped a centimeter they would use that to their advantage. He could feel tears in his eyes.
It was beautiful.
Osiris was starting to feel the stress of the potions kicking in. His time was running out.
Faster.
He needed to be faster.
He needed to hit harder.
The ground beneath them concaved.
The boy shot across the distance with a sharp, ear splitting shriek of a flute aimed at her chest.
The tigress braced for it.
Her smile fell as the eruption sent her flying through the trees, and spitting her across the land into the open field. She ragdolled, unable to stop or grip the ground, body breaking.
Her mouth bleed.
Through the plume of smoke and ash the boy appeared like the devil himself with a smile to match. She had not a second to brace.
Osiris watched the beast’s body begin to break and twist, he moved in and aimed another missile at her legs. It flew her across the field, taking bodies down with her in a mess of stone and ash.
“CLEAR WAY!” Beast and man alike ran. “HIGH RANK WARRIORS ARE FIGHTING! I REPEAT. HIGH RANK WARRIORS ARE FIGHTING!”
But the one doing the most damage was the child.
His hits tore the land, burned her flesh, split her bones. He was relentless, like a starving pup in a field of wolves fighting over a bone. She threw up blood. Her eyes nearly closed as her smile peaked through the heavens. If she was to die today, if this was her end.
She would have it no other way.
Those unable to follow the battle could only see the tigress ragdolling back and forth across the field while trying to block or dodge the Prince's barrage of attacks. His smile was nefarious. He would appear and disappear behind her, above her, beneath her.
His smile was virulent.
Those too close to the fight were getting trampled, crushed. Left behind was nothing but smeared clumps of red goo. A soldier vomited. The safest bunch watched through static filled screens on tents.
Osiris slipped.
The tigress chomped.
The battle changed. Osiris had to run.
“Fuck.”
His smile dropped. He was in a bit of a pickle. He may or may not have gone overboard with the missiles and now he’s about 5.9 seconds away from passing out.
The tigress could smell it, his weakness.
HE WAS STARVING.
“Think. THINK!” He busted his fist against his head. “Think, come on. Fuck.”
He broke a few knuckles and fingers against her paws.
“Think like a dog.”
Osiris jumped for a wolf and bit into his snout. His teeth tore into its flesh and ripped it as he passed, dragging its face with it. The dog screamed and fell to the ground before getting crushed by his bludgeon.
He was unslakable.
Hakim whipped his mouth of vomit using the back of his hand. Hundreds of others could be heard wrenching in the distance.
Osiris guzzled down a tongue.
He can’t believe this was working.
His mana was restoring by the gallons. He forced his way through a bull’s chest cavity, eating everything he could as he passed. Liver, intestine, heart, lungs, muscle, eyes.. His favorite so far was their legs. Specifically where their achilles tendon rested.
He always loved those parts of the meat. Chewy, a good experience overall. He rated it a ten out of ten.
Osiris ate with his life on the line.
The tigress was loving the chase.
The little kit was tearing through her people like they were the best snack in the world.
Her cackle boomed as she joined him in his feast.
The bitch caught on faster than Osiris would have liked. He grit his teeth as he pushed himself faster, trying to keep up as her people ran to her in masses. She gulped them down in droves.
“FUCK.”
Osiris looked forward. He needed to worry about finishing first. He got less picky about his meal and swallowed broken bones, rocks, even rotting flesh.
She pounced.
“MADE IT.”
He jammed his leg straight back and collided with the beast. She flew, shoulders mandling under the pressure. Osiris shot himself forward, breaking the sound barrier to slam her into the ground.
She spewed blood between the two of them.
Her desperation kicked in.
Claws dug into the ground, roaring, she threw him across the field. Osiris flipped and slid back as his legs tried to gain grip.
“Hook.”
Osiris stopped and went again.
He crushed her right leg, completely obliterating her kneecap. She answered by roaring through a front swipe. He got an elbow. Then another.
The tigress fell forward and landed with a thud.
The dry soot bounced.
The Prince dropped his mode.
All watched the boy walk up to the commander and kick her jaw, snapping her neck.
She gurgled.
He kicked her arm, grinding her joints through the stone.
She could not scream.
He kicked her side. She tried to whine. He kicked her again, and again, until her organs turned to mush, melting under his feet. Then he kicked her head up.
She died.
Like a spell was cut the beastmen ran.
Their leader was down.
The command was broken.
Osiris fell back beside her in an ashy puff of his own.
Sleep took him by the balls.
Bishop was the first to move.
He tore a com scroll, one connected to all A rank or higher mages. The paper burned blue.
“Location dropped. Class S Priority Heal. All available mages with patients Class B or lower will be dropped. I repeat-”
Tomas could not believe what he was hearing.
“But the Queen.”
He hissed.
“You know as well as I do that we would have lost all our men today.”
“But-”
“You can tell her the deal is off.”
“She won’t be happy about this.”
“Yeah, well.”
Bishop ran a hand through his hair.
The air around them was starting to make his skin peel. Just one battle. Just a single battle and this boy has completely spun his reputation around on its head.
Dangerous.
He was sure the Queen will never give up on her prey, but he wished her well after what he’s seen today.
“On top of being able to see mana….”
Bishop could see it.
The end.
It was going to be beautiful.
“Sorry man, I have to leave. Class S Priority Heals are no joke. I can be hung if I stay without a reason.”
“So you’re saying that Prince is more important than us?”
“Did you not see the fight, or are you blind?”
The mage stood.
Her, along with many other high level healers ran to the beacon. No one thought they would be needed like this on the first day.
“What are you doing, heal him.”
Bishop pointed to the boy as his healer struggled to move. Their legs were shaking. Their skin was burning.
“Move it or I’ll kill you myself.”
The mage moved.
Even with five other mages the boy’s body was still failing.
“A priest, summon a priest!”
One was found.
It took them until the next morning to save his life.
OSIRIS WINS.