Akamori and his squad flew over the retreating dragonkin as they lobbed erratic fire up at the squad. Compressed earth magic formed into foot long condensed spikes of rock that tore into the sky. He spun, whipping his rifle up to his shoulder and snapping off several void bolts that evaporated large patches of scales in rapid succession.
Spell: Void Bolt Type: Evocation Damage: minor accuracy bonus to damage, moderate void damage, double damage to light, spirit, and mind resistances. Range: 15 Meters Defense: Dodge/Resolve Reduction: Void Cost: 1 Aetherpoint The caster fires a bolt of negative energy that will erode anything it touches. Targets killed by a void bolt are unable to be resurrected. Requirements: Void Magic Enhancements: None.
The wounded dragonkin dropped to a knee as a headshot dismantled its head in a flurry of particles. Sirsir used one of his potion loaders that he’d filled with his own brew. A glowing series of rings appeared in front of his spell machinegun, outlined by a series of enchantment runes that glowed in green and white and yellow. When he fired his gun again, the spell bolts it fired into the ringed grid in front of the muzzle amplified the size of the rounds. The Sgt. was firing a cannon with a machine gun’s rate of fire. In seconds he shredded the rooftop and the remaining undead and dragonkin fell still.
“Hell yea! Now that’s some big man shit,” the Sgt. said with a grin.
Akamori looked at the devastation. “Sgt. What the hell was that?”
Sirsir lifted the spell machinegun up, resting it on his shoulder like a spell rifle at parade arms. “Ya like that? It’s an old potion brew my old man taught me. Spell amplification. Takes whatever spell ya feed it and the amplification gives it extra juice. Turns a spell rifle into a cannon in terms of power output, but doesn’t lack for the rate of fire. Still working on conjuring up another one. Two of these would really change the field.”
Special Item: Sirsir Family Brew #6 Item Type: Consumable Crafted Potion Effects: Item gives Spell Enchantment to spells cast. Adds Moderate Damage and Cast Speed Bonuses. Effect lasts for one battle. Has a 30 minute cooldown.
As he spoke, the rings discolored and crumbled into evaporating aether along with the runes as they fused and hardened before fading out. “Don’t last long, but it’s handy in a pinch. The only drawback is it still pulls the power from ya to fuel the spells. Not good if yer lookin’ at a prolonged fight.”
Akamori mentally filed that one away. “Okay then. Good to know.”
Yasiin drifted above the squad and to the rear, his rifle scope fixed to the helmet of his armor. The barrel of his rifle glowed dark violet with void energy before a thin beam of negative energy sizzled into a dragonkin hatchling’s shoulder. It shrieked and scrambled for cover as its companions fired back.
A loud roar echoed off the concrete jungle surrounding them. Sala landed in the middle of the hatchlings, stone skin, and gold aura flaring around him. The soul bolts the dragonkin fired at him just sizzled into nothingness against the radiance of his light aura. Two massive stony hands reached out, grabbing the nearest hatchlings to Sala, and he used them as drum sticks to put down a sick beat on the rooftop’s surface. Akamori grimaced at the blood splatter on the rooftop. Screams below drew his attention, and he spotted civilians in danger of being hemmed in by the opfor.
“We need to get down to the streets, try to herd the survivors into cover!” Akamori shouted over the coms.
“Yasiin, Amara, Sirsir, lay down cover fire. Sala, you’re with me. We’re going to carve a path. Aim for the biggest structure you can find, and we’ll open a path to get the civilians inside. Let’s go people!”
A chorus of affirmatives echoed out, and the squad flowed into action. Each mage performing their assigned task. He smiled to himself, allowing a glimmer of pride to take root at how well everyone was performing. He never expected to be in a situation like this, leading a team. Growing up on Hoshun had left him feeling like his father’s wishes had trapped him in a life he didn’t get to pick how he lived. And while training with the mages had been painful, he felt like he’d come a long way.
The weavers hung back as the two warriors plunged into the wildlings and undead creatures attacking the civilians. He and Sala moved in an artful dance of kinetic blows that saw undead and beasts being cleaved and smashed into gore. A massive serpent coiled up and whipped its tail at him. The tail cracked the air as it struck his armor, his hud flashing a yellow damage indicator on the chest piece. The actual damage came from his back, crashing into a car parked across the street. The glass shattered and the metal frame crumpled under his weight as he struggled back up with a groan. A storm of spell bolts covering his lethargic recovery. The wildling hissed and slid into an S curved retreat.
The damage indicator showed his back was red, drawing a wince. “That’s not gonna buff out,” he muttered to the armor. He felt a sluggish magic pulse in response, and he got the impression it was feeling pain. He had to focus on getting the civilians inside safely.
Securing the rest of the perimeter went smooth with Sirsir laying down heavy fire. Amara provided support while Yasiin called down larger targets of opportunity. That left the front door to Sala and himself. They made sure they kept a wide swath of land clear of hostiles so the frightened civilians could run inside freely.
A large mob of panicked civies were rushing for the safety being broadcast by their position. But the incoming fire was intensifying, on top of the fact that they had a large group of wildlings and undead chasing close behind. Great. He didn’t want to split his forces up in a fight like this because that would weaken their position, but if he did nothing, all those people would die.
“Do what you must in order to save all you can. That is the outrider’s creed, son.”
That’s right, it was his job. He turned to Sala, hesitation giving him pause before he fully committed. This was something he wasn’t sure he’d have done in the past without his back being put to the wall.
“Sala, stay here and hold the position. Yasiin, Amara. Back him up. Sgt., you’re with me. We’re going to give those civies down the street some breathing room.”
Sgt. Sirsir grinned as golden light energy pulsed in his eyes. “Yes, sir.”
He fed his armor enough void magic to press down against gravity, exerting his will. Once airbourne he used air for a burst of speed to match pace with the Sgt. as they ripped by overhead of the civilians who gave panicked shouts as they continued to weave a flowing path in and around parked vehicles on the street side for cover. They were several blocks down from the tanks, so he couldn’t expect much help from them without risking the burst rounds to just shred all the noncombatants.
As they neared the rear of the group of locals, Akamori could make out in better detail the size of the force they were dealing with. Some of these wildlings were smaller, but much faster. In the time it took him to get down the street, they had plucked several slower civilians from the rear of the group, like sick herbivores in the wild. Undead marched along in their ranks. Chalky skin and milky eyes that stared vacantly ahead. He gripped the hilt of his blade tighter, and for an instant, he could have sworn he felt eagerness at the chance for a fight.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
“Oh, you’ll get one,” he muttered, a silent promise.
“Let it rip, Sgt.”
Sirsir posted up stationary orbit above the crowd as they surged continuously forward below him. His large spell machine gun opened fire. Golden bolts of radiant light energy lanced out, and every undead struck by the missiles cried out in raspy shouts of pain as the light energy caused injuries to the malicious spirits occupying the corpses.
Spell: Light Bolt Type: Evocation Damage: Moderate, double damage against void, soul, and mind. Range: 12 meters. Defense: Dodge / Resolve. Reduction: Light Cost: 1 Aetherpoint. Description: Light bolts are the trademark of Eryn’s mages thanks to their monopoly on one of the few light magic wells in the sector, and are widely feared by demons and void mages. Requirements: Light Magic. Enhancements: The spell can be enhanced into a cone.
Many of the wildlings hit by the fire had their bindings shattered. With their own faculties restored, they turned on their neighbors willingly. The pursuit stalled out as Akamori and Sirsir provided them with plenty of reasons to stop and focus on what was happening rather than the moving buffet that had just moved out of reach.
He moved with the wind at his back, boosting both his speed and agility. This effect paired with a reduced mass thanks to dark magic, and he moved like a demon through the undead. He severed limbs, heads, and bisected torsos with ease, literally carving his way through.
A wildling made a lunging grasp for him, seizing him by the forearm. The armor whined as the forearm icon flashed straight to red. He could feel the armor plating trying to resist as the bite force of the creature overtook the tensile strength of the gauntlet. Then a massive bolt of light magic slammed into the beast's head, burning it away down to the first neck vertebrae. Cooked meat and ionized ozone filled the surrounding air. He set the armor to internal air scrubbers while fighting back his gag reflex. The rest of the serpentine body fell over, wiggling from muscle spasms.
Sirsir landed next to him, inspecting the armor. “You ok, sir?”
Akamori nodded as his helmet peeled back, and his red mane spilled out. He’d coiled most of it up into a topknot, but his bangs had been unruly, so he left them out to frame his face. “Yea. Grabbed my sword arm, and this thing had me by the balls there for a minute.”
Sirsir nodded, “Good thing you got an NCO that don’t take no shit like that layin’ down then.”
“Good thing I do,” He clapped Sirsir’s shoulder plate thankfully. “Let’s go baton down the hatches on these civies.”
They made their way back to the building as Yasiin and Amara finished getting the last of the people inside the building. He and Sirsir made it back to the others just as they resumed guard over the doorway. Now that they had the area secured, it was time to start head hunting whoever was leading this ambush.
“That captain will want us to find the shackler running this op. Take a minute to check your gear and be ready.”
Half his armor was in a critical state and would require attention to repair. His remaining aether pool was about half his capacity. He’d need a good night’s rest or a solid aether potion to recover the spent mana back. It was an expensive victory so far, but they’d saved lives. That meant a lot to him. No more repeats of his home.
Everyone did as told and in a minute, they were on the move, following the flow of combat under Amara’s stealth spell. They circled around to the rear of what passed for the enemy formation. Yasiin had his eye to his scope, panning slowly across rooftops and windows. Akamori noticed Yasiin’s barrel shift quickly, locking on suddenly, and his grip shifted on the rifle.
“Got one. Not sure if he’s the ringleader, but he’s definitely helped guide the circus.”
“Then let’s go give him a show ourselves.”
The squad moved into a better position in front of the shackler as he wove rune signs in front of his soul talisman. Everyone drew their weapons and aimed at their target, a young dragon in morphed human form, but the morph was off. The man had no hair; he sported slitted eyes, and Akamori could see rows of small sharp teeth in his mouth. Still, at a reasonable distance, he passed for human.
He pulled the buttstock of his spell rifle tighter into the groove of where his chest and shoulder met, snugly holding the weapon in tight. He fed the rifle a sliver of dark magic, and it thrummed eagerly. His rifle was an Eryn Arms Mk. V. It showed its age plainly, having sat on a weapons rack for a while. But it was reliable and functional.
He gave the signal, and the entire squad opened fire into the apartment. Concrete erupted into gravel. Glass shattered and slagged. Wooden window frames erupted into splinters. Debris flew in all directions as everyone’s bolts tore into the interior, the talisman, and the dragon. Something rippled a moment later, and both the talisman and the dragon disappeared.
“What the fuck?” Sirsir said, the barrel of heavy spell machinegun dipping.
Confusion struck Akamori until he realized. There was only one other dragon they’d tried this on already, unless it was the same one and they’d just stumbled into a trap. But the odds of this trick failing on two different targets felt slim at best. Did that make this a compound ambush? A nesting doll of deception and violence? Questions for later.
“Fan out and keep your eyes peeled. We just blew our stealth advantage and broadcasted our position. Expect retaliation.”
A soul bolt flew for Akamori’s back and crashed into his armor in a spray of off-white sickly green aether. Cold and pain stun at his back through the armor, and it felt like part of his soul plunged into icy water. He lost altitude and fell, but Amara caught him.
“Got you!”
He looked at her and nodded thankfully. Her hands glowed a golden yellow, and warmth flooded into the cold area and he felt more himself again. Whatever injury he’d taken, she’d just healed it. She patted the back plating on his armor with a nod.
“Better?”
“Yea, thanks.”
A massive explosion of debris threw them all to the rooftops as large dragon wings stretched out. A massive taloned hand clawed for purchase on a nearby rooftop, a hvac system crushing under its weight groaned and screeched.
“Surely you didn’t expect that to work twice?” a deep rumbling voice purred.
“Well, I mean, I did if I’m being honest,” Akamori shrugged.
The full grown dragon settled down on the rooftops. Steel and concrete protesting under the Wyvern’s weight. Based on its size and what Amara told him about their size being relative to their age and magic strength, this one was a runt compared to the one they killed in orbit.
Amara’s eye narrowed. “That’s him. The one from the station.” She pointed at the discolored patch of scales on its back. The wound they’d given it early had healed.
“Yesss,” the dragon’s eyes narrowed. “You killed my brother. For that I’ll make you pay.”
“Sir, the streets,” Yasiin pointed at the ground at a large pack of fleeing dragonkin escorting a brood of undead fleeing from the city.
He grit his teeth. Damnit. They had to deal with the dragon first. The minions would have to wait, even though he knew they’d throw them back at his team later on. To emphasize the point, a massive set of tails lashed out like matching scaled whips screaming at him.
Akamori canceled the feed to his magic and fell as the twin tails ripped through the air above him. Firing his dark magic back up, he pressed back down on gravity, canceling it out and then swung around, drawing his blade. He slammed his back with a blast of air magic as air and dark magic slid down his arm and played along the blade’s surface. The sword hummed and sang as it cut through the air, thrumming with magic. Slashing the blade down through the twin tails offered less resistance than he’d expected. The dark magic wreathed air slash cleaved the tails off with the cleanliness that only a surgeon could appreciate.
The Dragon roared, its head rearing back as its chest distended with a massive inhale, then fired it’d breath weapon. A palid fog of wraiths erupted from its gaping maw, and the air filled with the keening scream of the dead as the horde rushed the Akamori’s mage squad.
The mages responded in kind, by opening fire with everything they had. Spell rifles and pistols belched spell after spell as the Sgt’s machine gun laid down suppressive fire. Spirits and spells collided in a storm of aether and soul chaos. A few got through and both Sala and Akamori put them down at close range with spell augmented melee strikes. As the aether cloud dissipated, they found the Dragon had fled.
“Damn dragon got away,” Sala growled, pounding the concrete rooftop he’d landed on. His golden aura flared angrily with him.
Akamori lessened the feed of dark magic and gravity casually reclaimed him, pulling him down to the rooftop with Sala. He laid a calming hand on the primal’s shoulder, and Sala’s stone skin spell released. The dark grey blending back into red fur, light skin, and dark hair tones.
“We’ll get him. Don’t worry,” Akamori said.
Sala jerked his shoulder away and stomped off to his own corner of the rooftop. Akamori wanted to follow him. Lecture him on keeping his head in the game, but deep down? He felt like Sala pulled away because he was still putting Akamori in the same group he as the dragon. He glanced down at himself with a sigh and tried to smile beneath his helmet. Oh well.
“Let’s regroup with the captain. Fall out.”