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Fantasy Arms Dealer
Chapter 68: A Frosty Reception

Chapter 68: A Frosty Reception

Chapter 68: A Frosty Reception

Blizzard conditions presented some unique challenges for combatants, even more so than the dead of the night. Even back on Earth, arctic warfare was the bane of generals and a death sentence for troops in their millions, as every aspect of battle fell under the aegis of General Winter, and I sincerely doubt they’d ever faced a storm such as this. My knife waved in the air, its blade beginning to ice over, even as my shaking fingers fought to keep a grip on the handle that was suddenly slick with moisture.

[Gambeson withdrawn.]

Most of my time in the carriage had been spent in just my shirt and pants, with even the gambeson being too much during the daytime, but now all of a sudden, my garments felt woefully inadequate as the temperature plunged with every passing moment. I was immediately envious of Harvey’s summons and their attire, but to make matters worse, the cold wasn’t even my biggest concern. Under the intensifying snow, my vision degraded in real-time, despite my best efforts to shield my eyes with my off-hand, blinking as fast as I could. Pumpkin placed his paws over my eyes, which only made matters worse as my sight vanished entirely.

“Stop squirming,” he ordered, as I began to reach up to try and dislodge him.

Two of his fingers parted, creating a narrow window of visibility between each claw, and despite my initial reservations it actually helped, the narrower corridor of vision helping my pupils retain just a little coherence amidst the endless white. It wouldn’t last forever, I knew for a fact, but hopefully it would be enough to keep me alive, because my enemies certainly weren’t going to offer a reprieve.

[Ice Sprite - Level 2]

Hundreds of tiny elementals assailed us from every direction, the North being the most numerous by far. Each individual resembled little more than glowing blue orbs, surrounded by ephemeral limbs that erupted in every direction with neither rhyme nor reason. Harvey met the tide head on, his twin daggers flickering faster than I could follow, culling half a dozen in the blink of an eye. I saw enough of the aftermath to realise he only targeted the core, ignoring the appendages entirely to shatter them with singular, precise strikes. Despite Harvey’s best efforts, there were far too many for him to catch them all, and they began to slip past him, and close to me, and it was only me left to hold the line, because the others all had duties of their own to deal with.

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The five drivers sat with heads bowed, chanting in unison in language I couldn’t make heads or tails of, the overall layered effect a loose reminder of Gregorian chanting. A faint brown aura surrounded them as they worked, and the ground trembled, slowly sinking at a rate of perhaps an inch every few seconds, like a magical elevator. I wasn’t opposed to going underground, given the alternative, but this meant they were out of the battle, as they couldn’t spare any attention to it. Harvey’s summons covered the remaining angles of attack, their wands launching gouts of flame that carved large swathes through the incoming swarm. I had a single moment to spare, in which I felt sincere admiration for Harvey’s Class, one that granted him both formidable personal strength and an immensely versatile coterie of hired help for any situation he could anticipate. Then, the swarm was upon me, and there was no time left to think.

Being wary of the cold continually sapping my strength, I prioritised economy of movement in my defence. Quick jabs back and forth, aping the style of the fencer as best as I could with my shorter blade, puncturing each Sprite’s core on the attack, before stepping back to evade their comrades, then lunging again to repeat the cycle. It certainly wasn’t flawless, as whilst my greater bulk and momentum worked in my favour, I took no shortage of glancing blows from their limbs, each icy touch sending shivers through my body. The Sprites left no external signs of injury, but much like the Wispers of a previous encounter, I was pretty sure that being hit too many times would lead to a very bad end.

With my lesser speed and only one blade on hand, I couldn’t quite maintain the pace Harvey set up ahead, but fortunately I also had fewer Sprites to deal with, and managed to keep up with their advance by only killing two or three of them every second. Even that demanded a punishing pace from me, aided only occasionally by Pumpkin batting one of them out of the air with his tail, as he struggled to get involved while still keeping my eyes clear. I couldn’t tell you exactly how long this desperate defence lasted, as concepts like linear time tended to disappear amidst the cut and thrust of battle, but I felt I was doing quite well up until the point where my knees vanished below ground.

That was when Harvey missed one, the Sprite in question ducking below his guard to strike at a very sensitive area, giving a whole new meaning to the term ‘blue balls’. That alone wasn’t enough to down him, because he was a veteran fighter well familiar with pain, but it did stagger, forcing him to leap back until we were shoulder to shoulder. The ground lurched below me again, descending faster now as the drivers gave up the ground Harvey had previously occupied, reducing the overall burden just a touch. It wasn’t a worthwhile trade, because now the full brunt of the swarm came up against the two of us, both within touching distance of the first carriage. Neither of us were as fast as before, Harvey being injured and my stamina flagging, so it was inevitable that a few Sprites began to slip through the cracks, adding to the burden of Harvey’s summons behind us.

“Leave the first car,” Harvey ordered, seeing the situation to be untenable.

Thus, I gave ground for the first time in the battle, one that continued to rage without pause.