Morwen stood in the lead tank's open turret hatch as the rain beat down on her. Her dark black hair lay pressed against her head as rain drained down around face, finding the path of least resistance down her. She squinted, struggling to see into the murky distance as the thick rain and rolling ground fog made seeing into the weather hell on the nerves. She wanted to tough it out as long as she could to conserve the aether. Wasteful magic expense at this point could cost them longevity for the battle to come, and she wanted to ensure she could weave as much as needed. Fighting a dread lord was going to be very taxing. Something bit at the back of her mind, though. The odds of rolling right into an ambush were very high, even though they were slowly marching into the position they suspected the Sauridius was using.
At long last, her nerves gave out. At least she’d be able to head off an ambush by doing this, she rationalized. She wove the signs for water and soul, casting another massive shield above the unit to shield them from the rainfall and fog. She watched as the dome of runes and magic grew outward from her position until it covered the company. The dome pushed out further and further, her magic expanded to reveal more of the water logged landscape that hadn’t seen a moment’s respite since the storm’s birth. Her breath caught in her throat though when she saw the edge of the dome push past several hatchlings and orcs who’d been shuffling into the position suddenly looking confused at the lack of fog and rainfall covering their movements. Gods… it’s begun already.
The tank's main cannon fired an anti-personnel shell into the nearest cluster of hatchlings, spraying them in a dense cloud of steel balls that tore up mud, waterlogged wood, and scale alike. The automated anti-personnel machine gun opened fire next to her, the rapid fire crack of gunfire almost ear-splitting, she quick wove a small shield spell to press out the sound of gunfire from her ears. She’d need to hear for this battle. In response, the Hatchlings opened fire with spell rifles as the Orcs broke cover and charged.
The rest of the tanks pulled up, forming a battle line, then the remaining six barrels opened fire as one. A massive plume of fire and smoke blasting outwards, ripping up soil and loose stone and hurling it along with the shells into the closing Orcs, knocking them all over in cries of agony drowned out over the sound of cannon fire. Most of them didn’t get back up.
The Infantry units fanned out alongside the tanks, using the armor for cover as they took shots at the hatchlings. She issued orders to the right and left flank to spread out and make a horseshoe formation to prevent them being flanked. As the infantry moved, they took fire from the hatchlings. That drew the attention of the tanks, who continued to blast apart cover and rip apart the landscape.
She caught a small group of hatchlings moving to flank them and wove a series of quick shadow bolts that struck the young dragonkin all square in the chests, burrowing clean through them, leaving a trio of hollowed out torsos. She panned right and saw Akamori’s squad fending off a strong Orc attack on the opposite flank. She wished she could move over to address the issue, but had to trust her XO could handle the task. She had to have faith in Akamori. The prophecy had called for his presence here. He was the key. She reluctantly nodded, uneasy at the thought of delegating the task out. She couldn’t prosecute every fight, though, and she needed to learn to accept that. She was here to command, not to battle every enemy. That’s why she had capable allies do that for her.
She climbed out of the hatch stand atop the tank, hurling shadow bolts at every target she could find. A burst of gunfire cracked up from behind her. She missed because of the auditory sound dampening spell. It was only when her marines started calling for backup did she spin to see a group of orcs that had circled around the formation and attacked the rear in a pincer attack did her stomach fall to the top of the turret. She jumped to the ground and rolled, coming up in a sprint. She noted the absence of her spell armor’s bracelet on her wrist. She had grown used to it sliding up and down her wrist whenever she’d sprinted, and now it was gone. Bargained away for healing potions and ammunition for her forces to use.
A spell staff materialized in her hand, summoned from a dimensional pocket created purely for its storage. She sprinted then fell to her knees, sliding under a massive orc as he brought a wicked axe back to cleave a group of soldiers with. She jerked the staff left and right, striking the inside of the orc's thighs, then blasted it in the back at the base of its spine with a shadow bolt. The spell sizzled as it struck flesh, evaporating flesh and sinew into particles that billowed away on the wind.
The large, dark green beast lumbered around painfully, his expression twisted in agony as large bony tusks jutted from his mouth in an angry scowl. Dark brown beady eyes zeroed in on her. Thick, corded muscles in his arms tightened and the enormous axe came about. Morwen sighed and closed her eyes. This was it. This was her end. A loud metallic clash rang out next to her, and she opened her eyes to see Akamori struggling against the orc’s axe. He grunted as his armor’s thrusters roared with air magic pushing against the beast's attack.
“Don’t just stand there!” he grunted at her. “You’ve got a fight to run. We’ll deal with this!”
He brought his arms up, and the orc's axe swung high into the air. Akamori spun in a blur, assisted by his magic as he made himself lighter, his blade heavier. He spiraled in place, opening the orc’s abdomen, and entrails spilled out to the ground. The creature howled in pain as it tried to hold the contents of its insides in place, and Akamori brought the blade up quickly, cleaving its head down the middle. Its dead body fell over to the muddy rain soaked grass.
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She couldn’t even respond before he was off to the next target. He was right. She’d broken her faith in him and his team. She nodded, whispering a thankful prayer to any god listening, and turned to race back to Lt. Fennex’s tank. She tried to keep from looking at the growing number of wounded and dead bodies around the infantry ranks. She needed to figure out how to turn things around and do it quickly. She used a bit of void and flew to the top of the tank, gliding over the heads of the infantry dug in around the tank.
She slid into the top of the turret and wove a divination spell. Making fire and mind signs that resolved into true sight spell that pierced all deceptive magic. This included the obscuring storm and fog. The landscape sprawled out before her and she could see everything clearly now. They were several hundred meters from the ritual site. She could see an honor guard, likely comprising competent lesser dragons under Ominek’s guidance. Then she saw what they were guarding. The enormity of what they were facing down struck her in full force. She spotted several talismans that appeared to be anchor points for a massive ritual. One that was well underway.
She tried to study the ritual as best she could, examining the long scroll of runes as they pulsed with energy. Each guardian was weaving their own portion of the overall spell. Like middle management making their smaller contribution to the sum. At the lead, she found Ominek, weaving and adding runes and power to the overall spell. The talismans pulsed with every minute they allowed the spell to continue. She had to destroy that spell. She wasn’t sure how, but they had to stop it. This was the time. Without looking away, she wove a spell to communicate with her XO.
“Lt. I need you to strike a target. There’s a magical talisman a few hundred meters ahead of our positions. I need it destroyed. We have to do everything we can disrupt their ritual.”
“On it,” was his lone reply.
She watched as the mage squad flew beyond the edge of her spell shield one at a time. A beat later, she saw Sala land in front of her tank. He turned back and gave her a nod. Come victory or defeat, he would greet their destiny at her side. She gave him a nod back, uncertain if it would be the last time they saw each other in this life. She half crawled down the turret ladder and stuck her head into the tank.
“Lt. Fennex, I need you to take us forward, into the storm. We’re going to attack Ominek’s position. Hopefully, we can distract him long enough to let the Mages do their job.”
Fennex turned back to her with wild skepticism on his expression for a moment. She watched it harden into cold resolve before he finally nodded to her. She glanced down across the tank lines.
“Give the order for the rest of the tanks to follow. Leave the infantry here. Hopefully, they can hold the position and give us a rear fall back location.”
“Ma’am?” Fennex asked.
Her expression fell. “Time is against us, and if we don’t press our attack, it may not matter how many survive today.”
Fennex fell silent, heaving a resigned sigh, and issued his orders through the comnet. The tanks pushed forward, using void batteries to lighten their mass to make traversal across the mud easier. Hover tanks would have been easier, but far more expensive. Her credit with the guild didn’t go that far.
She was counting on the tanks and mages pulling forward, drawing fire away from the marines. In an ideal battle that would allow her marines a chance to breathe and set up a secure perimeter for them to fall back to. She had to trust they could hold out, but she knew better than to have high expectations. She turned back to look at the marines one last time as the armor units surged forward. She watched as the marines dug into fighting positions and set up a perimeter as best as they could. As a favor, she left the shield spell rooted in place so they could at least see what they were attacking. The rational part of her realized this was probably the last time she’d see them alive. She gave them a federation salute. They deserved that much honor. Far more than she could afford them in fact.
She turned back to face forward, and took comfort in Sala’s form, intimidating as it was with the cool grey stone skin, and ragged spikes protruding from his form. He kept pace ahead of Fennex tank easily. His golden aura burned away the magic induced rain as they pierced the outer wall of the shield she’d erected.
“Use Private Sala as a beacon to guide you forward,” she ordered.
Within fifty meters, though, the order felt redundant when they pushed through the eye of the Sorrow and then came to a halt on her command. Ahead lay the ritual, Ominek and the ritual guardians. The magical power pulsating here left her awestruck. An intense aetheric pressure, the magic pulsed like an invisible heartbeat just above the ritual’s epicenter.
“My gods…” she knew it was immense, but being this close to it made her feel like a pebble before a tidal wave.
The tanks all whined as their gyros leveled their barrels on Ominek. Slowly, the dread lord turned around with a put-upon sigh. He opened his eyes and locked gazes with her. An amused smile crept across his face.
“I’d hoped for a grand demonstration of our power. A way to rub into the Federations face we endured. That today is the day that we won. In the future, we will crush every stain of a colony you have in this sector, and our dominion will be complete. What do I get?”
He gestured to her tanks. “A smattering of tanks and a single pain in the ass mage.”
Sala growled as the light magic flared from his eyes.
“Yes, yes, and a slave dog on a long leash. It’s not as grandiose as I’d have liked, but it will have to suffice. We can’t get everything we ask for, now can we? So little bug. Who might you be? Let me have your name, so I can savor how you taste when I devour you all.”
Morwen firmed her resolve, “I am Captain Morwen of the Mage Federation, and I’m here to stop you.”
Ominek clapped slowly, a sarcastically impressed look draped across his features. “Well Captain. Come, stop me.”
Morwen nodded, not one to look an invitation in the maw. “Fire.”