Blasts of elemental energy and light heralded his path through the army, and he could sense a few monolithic energy signatures coming his way with his more metaphysical senses, telling him of the arrival of a few of those aforementioned powerful enemies charging his way.
A few seconds later, a hulking brute of a fighter smashed through the lines of soldiers in front of him, paying no heed to the plight of his own men. The figure bellowed out loud, activating a powerful ability that seemed to inflict a sense of dread on Jonathan, one that he cleared quickly enough with his Divinity, and then charged, hefting a massive battlax over his head. The weapon glowed with light and then came down like a thunderbolt, moving far faster than a weapon of that size had any right to.
Jonathan dodged, knowing that he would be unable to parry it, and the weapon landed next to him, sending a tremor through the ground that knocked the weaker fighters off their feet. Jonathan felt a warm gust of wind strike his back, filling him with a sense of speed. It seemed that Edgar was aware of what was going on around him. Jonathan smiled and flashed forwards, surprising his enemy with his power. The nearby soldiers backed away, knowing that they would do no good in a conflict of this level. Instead, they started to clear a space for Jonathan, and in response, the hulking brute that he was facing seemed to perk up.
“I was warned about you, Jonathan Harlowe, but you certainly don’t seem to be worth all the hubbub. I was expecting you to be taller.”
This nonsensical declaration, in a world where size mattered little, if not at all, caused Jonathan to laugh. Rather than back this up with a reasoning, Jonathan simply charged, using the short lull in the combat as an opening. The other fighter bellowed again, and swiped his ax around, trying to catch Jonathan. Jonathan leaped over the silvery arc of metal, its incredibly fast movement looking like nothing more than the swipe of a languid hand to him. He landed within the other man’s guard and punched, denting the metal of the man’s breastplate with his fist. A wave of energy shot out of his hand, the secondary part of the punch, and carried on through the armor and into its wearer.
The man stumbled backwards, coughing up blood, and then seemed to take a moment to steady himself. However, this was an illusion, and he used the movement to send his ax haft on a swiftly curving trajectory for Jonathan's face. At this range there was no dodging an attack of that speed, and Jonathan was forced to roll with the attack, feeling teeth shatter as it landed. He might have been faster than this man, but the other fighter was still a Tier 2, and possessed an untold number of hidden advantages, not least of which was his monstrous strength.
A few seconds later, Jonathan felt a searing beam of heat racing through the air towards him and he dodged just in time to see a small lance of light shoot past his head and into the massed fighters around him. A woman dressed in silken robes leaped over the heads of the waiting army, and landed in the middle of the circle. She was undoubtedly another Tier 2, and the source of the beam that had almost taken his head off. Even now, the attack detonated a few dozen feet away, sending up a pillar of flame into the air rather than exploding, a pillar of flame that instantly fused the ash into glass. Jonathan ignored this, taking in the appearance of the newcomer. The woman possessed an austere sort of beauty, with a carefully coiffed head of hair and a face that looked to be expertly cared for, in order to preserve as much of her charms as possible, even within a battle. The woman snorted at Jonathan, dispelling the image moment later
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
“This pissant was giving you so much trouble?” She said to the other fighter. “I doubt he would even dodge one of my more powerful abilities.”
“Oh shut up, Rowena. You might think you’re better than the rest of us, what with your Crimson Sect training, but all you are is another flighty mage. When the fighting gets tough, your kind simply runs.”
“At least we survive, unlike you meatheads,” the woman replied, seemingly unconcerned of Jonathan’s presence.
Something clearly linked the two fighters, but Jonathan didn't have time to engage in such idle curiosities, and he moved, heading towards the army around him. He did not want to fight these two if he could help it, and his primary objective was meeting up with Edgar once more and getting the hell out of here. It seemed that most of the heavy hitters in this army had been sent after him rather than his companion, which was just as well. Jonathan could hear Edgar at work, sending highly concentrated blasts of wind toward his enemies. However, the other man was not a major focus of the army, as most of the weaker fighters were mobbing him instead of coming after Jonathan.
“Hey! I’m not finished with you, you cowardly piece of garbage!” The female mage called after him. A moment later an arrow of lightning burst out from her fingertips, sent towards Jonathan’s back. He snarled. This woman was starting to rub him the wrong way. A dome of questing Voidlight shot out of his hands, heading for the spell, and hungrily devoured it midair, tearing apart its man and elemental energy. Jonathan kept running, smiling at the screams of indignant outrage from behind him.
“What was that you were saying?” He could faintly hear the armored fighter gloat to his companion, as he started running after Jonathan.
Jonathan legged it through the grasping hordes of enemy soldiers, feeling them break upon him as he rushed through. If nothing else, they were very disciplined, in the face of a far stronger fighter. Every now and again some sort of captain figure would step out of the woodwork and manage to land a hit on Jonathan, but other than that it was smooth sailing. He was ridiculously powerful, at least compared to these fighters, and as a result their presence was almost negligible. In addition, the various siege engines that the army possessed were unable to target him because of his position, leaving it up to the two bickering Tier 2s to find him. He could hear the brutish one of the pair barging through the ranks behind him, treading over the mashed heaps of flesh and armor that Jonathan had left in his wake. Although disgusting, it was good for essence gain, and he could feel himself creeping up towards another level. In addition, he did not feel any pity for these people, as they had tried to kill him and Edgar, as well as being the servants of the true engineer of his troubles within this realm. No, they did not deserve his pity.
Jonathan eventually spotted Edgar through a small gap in the massed hordes, and charged towards him, blasting out a moment later in front of the man. Edgar looked harangued, and he was covered in wounds. However, he was surrounded by a bulwark of corpses, propped up by their own weight. Jonathan snatched up Edgar, taking the weaker man on his back,and raced towards the end of the army, trying to stay ahead of the pursuing Tier 2s.
Edgar took this all in stride, and used Jonathan as a mobile turret, blasting any nearby enemy with his wind based powers. They were in no need to stay here and fight, and they needed to escape sooner rather than later. No gains that they could make here would be worth getting captured again. In any case, they were probably under orders to just kill Edgar, as Jonathan was the only one who Granath needed alive in any case. He had both the book and the means to read it, which meant that Granath would be interested indeed with his well being. It was perhaps the only reason why the Tier 2s were not going all out. They had idly chattered while Jonathan had been in their sight, which meant that he was likely little to no threat to them, at least with what they knew about him. If he was forced to actually fight them however, they would find that assumption to be lacking in its veracity. In any case, he had no intention of doing that, so his slightly bruised ego would just have to put up with it for now.