Blood, steel, viscera, dust, and ash, the air was thick with it. Stephan choked down a tiny bit of water in the small instance of quiet he could. Those were rare on a battlefield. He could see the front line shield wall a couple of hundred feet in front of him and thanked his lucky stars. He wasn't a part of that anymore.

“C13 on your right!” Came the gruff voice of a commander somewhere. Recognizing his call sign, Cleanup 13, Stephan turned to his right and raised his maul. With a practiced motion he brought it down on the head of the husk that was rising from its fallen position. It felt like those paper dragons he used to destroy at birthday parties. Dust flew up into his face, and if it wasn't covered with a mask, he would have gotten a lung full. He thanked his lucky stars again; at least they were fighting a tomb king and not an archlich; dust is much easier to get off of your clothes than viscera.

He quickly pulled up his sleeve and pricked his finger on the bracelet on his wrist. The red gem in the center of it began to pulse. Waiting for it to become stable he looked around to get his bearings. He could only see 500 feet in front of him before the sand got too thick. Fires were burning on both sides and behind him, adding smoke to the already obscured view. He felt the pull of the bracelet in the back of his head and knew it was ready.

Pointing his finger at the now slowly disintegrating corpse, he released the tension and felt the magic flow through his arm and out the bracelet. The fire flew from his finger in a stream, not unlike a fountain, and engulfed the corpse. Not having time to check if the husk was really dead he turned and prepared for the next one.

Where were the damn heroes? Stephan cursed to himself.

Any one of those stupid Magi would be able to burn this tomb king's army to a crisp in a couple of seconds, but he guessed they were too busy out partying and congratulating themselves over their latest accomplishment rather than being on the front lines. Taking care of another husk, Stephan began to hear a strange heavy huffing somewhere near the front lines. At the same time ,he heard the hero's horn begin to blow.

Finally they were here. But he might not make it this time if the noise he heard before was anything to dangerous. Already he could hear the screaming and shouting from the front lines begin.

“What is that thing!?” And “OH GOD” began to be made audible as the front positions bowed and got closer to him. It wasn't anything he's never heard before, so it didn't faze him to much.

There was a huge wind that knocked him down at that point, and he saw a massive tornado tof fire begin to rip through the tomb kings ranks. Damn, they sent a weak one. A normal strength magus would have a tornado twice that size at least. Looking back he saw the source.

The kid couldn't have been older than 11. His robes and long brown hair flapped around him wildly as he muttered the spell. He was close enough that Stephan could make out the two different sounds came out of the kids mouth at the same time. Next to him stood a equally young cleric who was busy healing some soldiers, his black hair glowing with godly light as he healed. Their other companion was bringing the soldiers and dropping them in a heap.

Her age was hard to tell through all the scars, but her glowing white hair and eyes marked her as a gods blood. What was she doing with such young kids? Probably something sick, no doubt. Heros always had some sick twist to their psyche.

The huffing grew into laughing as the sound got clearer. And the front line finally broke. Revealing a dried up skeleton in cracked robes In a wind storm of sand. It was a tomb blessed. A type of lich which was made when a magus gets consumed or pledges fealty to a tomb lord. This one must've been the latter with the clear joy it seems to be taking from the havoc it was wreaking. Soldiers flew all around. Skin and muscle drying out and breaking into dust as they were caught in the tomb blesseds maelstrom.

Through the screaming and laughing Stephan heard the female warrior shout “LEON, OPERATION FOUR. VEYGAR TAKE COVER”

The lady ran past him before he could blink and he could barely process what happened before he started hearing the sound of a sword hitting sand. It was so loud that he felt it reverberate in his head, it was almost like a canon. The magus kid began chanting a 4 tier spell, talented little shit, and Stephan could feel the normal-strength on as he heard the 4 simultaneous stanzas reverberate in his head, as was typical with higher level magic for those untrained in it.

A giant wall of water rushed past his head, if he had been standing it would have ripped him to shreds. In a moment it was gone, and the sound of metal hitting sand changed to metal hitting metal. Looking over he saw the tomb blessed swinging around a sword as tall as Stephan was around as if it was a toy knife. And the warrior was beating it back with a club bigger than she was, and she must've been 3 feet taller than Stephan.

Suddenly he felt himself getting dragged back. He looked up and saw the cleric kid.

“Kid you don't need to do that I'm fine” Stephan said as he began to stand up. But the kid wasnt looking at him, he was looking at the tomb blessed and the warrior lady. “Kid, what are you looking at? You must have seen this a thousa-” Stephan stopped mid-sentence as he looked back. The dried up skeleton was looking directly at the child. And impossibly seemed to be grinning, even while engaged with the warrior.

It felt like slow motion, the tomb blessed seemed to grin wider, then a lash of solid sand flew from its hand it took off it's sword towards the kid. He was a hero but he was still a kid. Stephan pushed the kid down and covered him.

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He could feel the sand rip though his back, imagining all the times he'd seen something similar happen to other soldiers. He wondered to himself how the hell he got here as his consciousness faded out from the pain.

Blood, steel, viscera, dust, and ash, the air was thick with it. Stephan choked down a tiny bit of water in the small instance of quiet he could. Those were rare on a battlefield. He could see the front line shield wall a couple of hundred feet in front of him and thanked his lucky stars. He wasn't a part of that anymore.

“C13 on your right!” Came the gruff voice of a commander somewhere. Recognizing his call sign, Cleanup 13, Stephan turned to his right and raised his maul. With a practiced motion he brought it down on the head of the husk that was rising from its fallen position. It felt like those paper dragons he used to destroy at birthday parties. Dust flew up into his face, and if it wasn't covered with a mask, he would have gotten a lung full. He thanked his lucky stars again; at least they were fighting a tomb king and not an archlich; dust is much easier to get off of your clothes than viscera.

He quickly pulled up his sleeve and pricked his finger on the bracelet on his wrist. The red gem in the center of it began to pulse. Waiting for it to become stable he looked around to get his bearings. He could only see 500 feet in front of him before the sand got too thick. Fires were burning on both sides and behind him, adding smoke to the already obscured view. He felt the pull of the bracelet in the back of his head and knew it was ready.

Pointing his finger at the now slowly disintegrating corpse, he released the tension and felt the magic flow through his arm and out the bracelet. The fire flew from his finger in a stream, not unlike a fountain, and engulfed the corpse. Not having time to check if the husk was really dead he turned and prepared for the next one.Where were the damn heroes? Stephan cursed to himself.

Any one of those stupid Magi would be able to burn this tomb king's army to a crisp in a couple of seconds, but he guessed they were too busy out partying and congratulating themselves over their latest accomplishment rather than being on the front lines. Taking care of another husk, Stephan began to hear a strange heavy huffing somewhere near the front lines. At the same time, he heard the hero's horn begin to blow.

Finally, they were here. But he might not make it this time if the noise he heard before was anything too dangerous. Already he could hear the screaming and shouting from the front lines begin.

"What is that thing!?” And “OH GOD” began to be made audible as the front positions bowed and got closer to him. It wasn't anything he'd never heard before, so it didn't faze him too much.There was a huge wind that knocked him down at that point, and he saw a massive tornado tof fire begin to rip through the tomb kings ranks. Damn, they sent a weak one. A normal-strength magus would have a tornado twice that size at least. Looking back he saw the source.

The kid couldn't have been older than eleven. His robes and long brown hair flapped around him wildly as he muttered the spell. He was close enough that Stephan could make out the two different sounds that came out of the kid's mouth at the same time. Next to him stood an equally young cleric who was busy healing some soldiers, his black hair glowing with godly light as he healed. Their other companion was bringing the soldiers and dropping them in a heap.

Her age was hard to tell through all the scars, but her glowing white hair and eyes marked her as a god's blood. What was she doing with such young kids? Probably something sick, no doubt. Heros always had some sick twist to their psyche.

The huffing grew into laughing as the sound got clearer. And the front line finally broke. Revealing a dried-up skeleton in cracked robes In a wind storm of sand. It was a tomb blessed. A type of lich that was made when a magus gets consumed or pledges fealty to a tomb lord.

This one must've been the latter with the clear joy it seemed to be taking from the havoc it was wreaking. Soldiers flew all around. Skin and muscle drying out and breaking into dust as they were caught in the tomb blesseds maelstrom.

Through the screaming and laughing, Stephan heard the female warrior shout, “LEON, OPERATION FOUR. VEYGAR TAKE COVER”

The lady ran past him before he could blink and he could barely process what happened before he started hearing the sound of a sword hitting sand. It was so loud that he felt it reverberate in his head, it was almost like a canon. The magus kid began chanting a 4 tier spell, talented little shit, and Stephan could feel the headache coming on as he heard the 4 simultaneous stanzas reverberate in his head, as was typical with higher level magic for those untrained in it.

A giant wall of water rushed past his head; if he had been standing, it would have ripped him to shreds. In a moment it was gone, and the sound of metal hitting sand changed to metal hitting metal. Looking over he saw the tomb blessed swinging around a sword as tall as Stephan was around as if it was a toy knife. And the warrior was beating it back with a club bigger than she was, and she must've been 3 feet taller than Stephan.

Suddenly he felt himself getting dragged back. He looked up and saw the cleric kid.

“Kid, you don't need to do that. I'm fine,” Stephan said as he began to stand up. But the kid wasn't looking at him; he was looking at the tomb blessed and the warrior lady. “Kid, what are you looking at? You must have seen this a thousa-” Stephan stopped mid-sentence as he looked back.

The dried-up skeleton was looking directly at the child. And impossibly seemed to be grinning, even while engaged with the warrior.

It felt like slow motion; the tomb blessed seemed to grin wider, then a lash of solid sand flew from its hand, and it took off from its sword towards the kid. He was a hero but he was still a kid. Stephan pushed the kid down and covered him.

He could feel the sand rip through his back, imagining all the times he'd seen something similar happen to other soldiers. He wondered to himself how the hell he got here as his consciousness faded out from the pain.