Barbatus continues cutting down the soldiers like soft butter, their attacks simply bouncing off of his flesh. I have to do something!
Fikre flies downwards towards Barbatus and takes another massive swipe at him, but the attempt at harming him chips Fikre's claw. What the hell!?
Fikre lands by his companions once again, behind the lines of soldiers. "I can't hurt him!" He shouts. "Someone else has to try something!"
Nitocris steps forward. "Gift of Desert: Rage of the Simoom!" A massive sandstorm is conjured around the whole battlefield.
"Are you crazy!?" Shouts Fikre through the roaring wind. "You'll kill all of the soldiers!"
"Just watch!" She replies. She's right... none of the soldiers are being hurt! She's selectively harming Barbatus!
The subsonic sand particles cut and pierce through Barbatus's skin, cutting him in multiple places. He shouts in pain and rage. "Gift of Sword: Cutting the Crimson Road!" His blade turns a brilliant red, and as he swipes, everything goes quiet.
In an instant, Barbatus cuts down 10,000 of the soldiers. Holy shit... The soldiers look at each other nervously and begin to slowly back up.
"It's clear they won't approach him now," says Nitocris. The others nod and walk through the ranks of soldiers, approaching the now kneeling Barbatus.
"Using that gift canceled my Path Through War," he says. "If your warriors advanced on me now, their attacks would go through." They all stand there silently.
"Go home, Barbatus," says Fikre. "I understand why you're fighting for him, but we're not here for you. I detest that you war with Dulimbai, but how they respond isn't much better. Leave, or I'll kill you." Barbatus laughs, a slowly rising laugh.
"I'll make us even for this, lizard," he says. Barbatus now vanishes from view, teleporting back to the Patrian Empire.
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Oleg watches the fight play out from The Lich's tower. "Damn... I think I'd like to rescind my previous statement. There's no way my troops can take on that many soldiers. Not to mention, they fucked Barbatus up..."
"Very well," says The Lich. "I cannot force you to help me. Now leave. I must plan my next moves." Oleg vanishes from the tower.
"Very well. I will open with one of my most powerful sorceries." The Lich raises his hands. "Shugnahoth Ahmgep!" He shouts.
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Out on the battlefield, the soldiers march the final mile towards the gates of the Bleak Reach's keep. "Wait! Look above us!" Shouts Inge. Everyone looks up. "What is that!?"
Above them, a massive array of meteors plummets down to earth, set to hit them directly. "They're going to collide with us!" A soldier shouts.
Shit! Think fast! "Gift of Underworld: Cavernwright!" Fikre shouts. The flaming spheres of molten rock disappear from above them. That's usually meant for creating caves or stone structures, but I suppose in a pinch it will do as a defense!
In the tower, The Lich looks on in utter disbelief as his throne-level spell disappears from the air. He howls in rage. "Send in all of the forces! NOW!"
The gates of the Bleak Reach open, and out of it spew hundreds of thousands of low magic casters, clay constructs, undead soldiers, and a few powerful undead units serving as commanders.
"Fikre!" Shouts Minah. "Let us get on your back and fly us into the tower! If we kill The Lich, all the clay constructs and undead will crumble, and the magicians will lose their resolve!" Fikre crouches down and allows the other gods onto his back, and takes off to enter the tower.
The flight is much harder than Fikre thought it would be; he runs into multiple magical traps placed in the air. Spouts of raging fire seem to appear out of nowhere and scorch him. Fuck, that hurts. Fight through the pain. His pain is relieved, however, as he feels Caterina mending his wounds. "Thanks," he says. She nods.
In the tower, The Lich sees the group of gods rapidly approaching his window on Fikre's back. "So be it! Miracle of Knowledge: Corona of Fury!" He points a rueful finger at Fikre.
DAMN IT! WHAT IS THIS!? Fikre's mind lights on fire as his brain is attacked by an unseen force. The others on his back clutch their heads in agony, too. Fikre crashes through the massive window leading to The Lich's war-planning room. The skeletal figure dodges out of the impact at the last second. Surprisingly, the palace's tower remains standing after the impact.
Fikre and the others get up, Fikre barely fitting in the height of the room.
"So... you've come to kill me?"
"Come quietly, Lich. We don't want to kill anyone else," says Minah.
"Did you really expect me to just sit here without protection?" Asks The Lich. Out from the shadows steps a gargantuan black mechanical automaton, almost the same height as Fikre.
"What the hell..." mutters Fikre.
"Meet the Black Iron Servitor!" Shouts The Lich.
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"Well, Winter, how do you suppose we'll get through the hundreds of soldiers and entities blocking our way inside the city?" Asks Leviticus. "It's a rhetorical question, of course. Barring the fact that I told you not to speak, I doubt you'd answer me anyways." Leviticus pulls a small, pistol-shaped device from his hip. "Ah, the Victus Conductor. The inventions of our master are truly marvelous, the most potent objects in all of reality." Leviticus aims the device at the enormous group of soldiers. One of them turns around and sees him.
"Hey, you need to get out of here!" He yells. "It's not safe here!"
"You're right." Leviticus pulls the trigger, and with a deafening zap, all ten million warriors drop dead at once, along with every single construct, sorcerer, and undead. The sudden shift from deafening shouts to absolute silence is jarring. Winter twitches a little. "Hark, Winter. The time draws near. The fragments now sit mere steps away from us. We shall not dally, then."