People milled about, with their weapons drawn, organizing themselves into small units. On the walls, defenders scrambled to load the ballistas and catapults mounted there, and archers began to nock arrows to their bows. The gates opened, and the guards rushed back inside, as fast as their legs could carry them. A trio of burly orcs came running down the main street, bearing a large slab of metal between them. With a grunt, they heaved it into place behind the gate, sealing it tightly. Jonathan noticed Petrag and his daughter running down the street, both of them dressed in armor. He waved at the pair, who paused in front of him.
“You really are an unlucky one, aren’t you?” Petrag exclaimed, some of his accent gone. “I was almost finished with your armor too. I have a quota to fill on the walls though.”
“Hold on, almost finished? How much more time do you need?” Jonathan asked.
“About a quarter of an hour. Why?”
“I can hold your place on the wall,” Jonathan said. “What do I need to do?” The dwarf laughed at this, and pointed at the massive crossbow on his back.
“No offense, boy, but I doubt that you can even pull the string on this thing, let alone nock it. What level are you, level 5? You’re just a newbie.” Rather than protest, Jonathan simply held out his hand towards the man, waiting for him to hand him the crossbow. Grumbling under his breath about cocky youths, Petrag handed Jonathan the crossbow.
He quickly sighted along its length and effortlessly drew the string back, nocking it on the small hook at the end of the crossbow. Raising one eyebrow at the dwarf, who looked shocked, Jonathan released the string, able to hold the tension within his hands without letting it snap back.
“Do I meet your standards?”
“How… Never mind that. Beatrice, go with him and hand him arrows. You know what to do.” The man turned around and ran back towards the smithy, and Beatrice flashed Jonathan a smile. He gave her one in return, and followed the wash of people down the street towards the walls.
Following the vague directions being hollered by the guards, he ran up the stairs, with Beatrice following. The walls were packed with people, but Jonathan ignored all of that in favor of what was beyond the walls. What looked at a distance like a living tide of ash was hurtling across the land, and when he focused in on the front of the wave, he was able to make out monsters milling around in the midst of it. Beatrice handed him a thick crossbow bolt, and he began to nock it, still looking at the sight in front of him. The rest of the defenders began to load their weapons as well, and a few moments later, a man came running along the battlements, touching his glowing hands to the weapons. He passed by Jonathan a moment later, and a white glow spread across the crossbow, before concentrating into the tip of the bolt. Jonathan was able to sense the work of another mage, and he tried to find out what exactly the man had done to the bolt. Before he could do so however, the monsters came into range.
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“FIRE!” Someone bellowed from the far end of the wall, unleashing a wave of projectiles. Jonathan propped the crossbow up against his shoulder, and fired, the glowing projectile hurtling toward the monsters. It landed a moment later, and exploded, blowing apart a dozen monsters in a single blast. However, that barely made a dent in the horde. Other explosions rocked the horde, some smaller and some larger, working away at the front lines. Still, it was barely a drop in an ocean, and soon the monsters crashed against the walls, shaking them to their foundations. They rushed past them in an unceasing torrent, and soon bits of masonry began to fall. Although each monster was individually too weak to do anything to the walls, the force from all of them at once was more than sufficient. As the defenders desperately loosed arrows into the fray, the tide began to slow and soon the forms of the monsters were few and far between. The defenders around Jonathan sighed in relief, but none of them returned. Turning to Beatrice, he was met with a shake of the head.
“That was only the beginning. In between each wave, a few elites come, and those can only be taken out in melee combat.” As she spoke, Jonathan spotted a few shadowy shapes in the distance, which quickly turned into over twenty. Half of them were Alpha Ash Prowlers, but he spotted a few massive Fetid Oozes, and even another one of the Ash Reavers. A few monsters that he knew nothing about walked among the elites too.
Someone came running up the stairs, and Jonathan turned to see. It was Petrag, and the man bore a set of sparkling chain armor over his right shoulder. Panting heavily, he handed it off to Jonathan, snatching his crossbow back.
“With the strength that you showed earlier, your place is out there, facing the elites. I’ll give you this armor, free of charge, if you do that.” Jonathan had already been planning to do this, and he nodded wordlessly, beginning to put on the armor. It was time to get some more levels.
He quickly donned the armor, not bothering to remove his tattered leather set, and found that it was far more comfortable than he had expected. He felt power surging through his body from the armor, but did not have time to analyze it.
Instead, he ran over to the wall and vaulted over it, drawing shouts of amazement from everyone else there. He landed on the ash outside of the city, and waited there for his support. There were supposed to be others coming, and while he could have charged the monsters on his own, he did not fancy his chances against the wall of elites. A few moments later, five others landed on the ash at varying distances from Jonathan. There were two melee fighters, with a sword and an ax respectively, two mages, who had orbs of condensed mana hovering around their hands, and finally, the man who had performed the spell on the weapons earlier. They all stared at Jonathan, who they had not been expecting.
Before any one of them could call him out however, the monsters charged, the ground shaking. Shots began to rain down from the battlements above, and Jonathan sped forward, his feet sending up drifts of ash. To everyone’s shock, he outpaced both of the melee fighters, who were running at high speeds themselves. Without pausing, Jonathan leapt forwards at the nearest elite, one of the Ash Prowler Alphas, and brought his fist down on its head with a surge of power.
Mana crackled around his gauntlet, and monster blood splattered the ground around him as his fist slammed straight into flesh. A great crater was blasted out of the monster in question and it yowled in pain. Fire began to build up in its throat, but Jonathan sent his right fist in a devastating right hook towards the monster’s jaws. Metal met flesh and metal won, tearing the bottom jaw of the monster clean off. Its fire sputtered out, and Jonathan thrust his hand into the creature’s head, boiling its brain with his mana. Sliding the corpse off his hand, he raced towards the next monster.