The clouds above began to swirl, and Edgar let out a grunt as enough mana to raze a mountain to the ground was channeled from his body and into reality. Trails of elemental light surrounded his arms, and with a roar, he pulled down, and the sky came down with him.
All of the air nearby was sucked into a tornado so powerful that the air within had become solid. It touched down on top of Gravarn, and to the dwarven powerhouse’s horror, his legs started to leave the ground.
Then he slammed one fist to his chest, and redoubled the gravitational field around him. “AH WILL NOT FALL TO YE, SCUM!”
He thrust out one meaty hand, and flicked a finger up. An entire building rose from the ground, tearing free of its structural supports as dozens of times local gravity pulled in the opposite direction. Edgar’s gaze shot up, and he watched as the building reversed direction, crumbling apart and compressing into a orb of rock fifty feet wide.
He cursed and banished the tornado, even as his followers raced in around him, fearless of the overwhelming odds. Then he set his feet, recalling his elemental energy. With a shout, he punched the air, and the sky warped on his command, a pillar of air pressure that could have crushed diamonds into dust slamming into the base of the incoming meteor. Blood sprayed from Edgar’s nose as he struggled against the gravitational powers of his dwarven adversary, but as he brought his mana to bear, he slowly turned the tide. A grin spread across his face, and with a groan of pain, he deflected the compressed ball of rock into the center of the enemy lines.
The dwarven Earth mage changed gravity around the rock once again, making it float away into the sky. Doing so left him vulnerable however, and Edgar sent a dozen spikes of razor sharp wind in through holes in his armor. Rather than sink into flesh, though, they broke against an unseen barricade.
“Ye think you can harm me with yer paltry magic? Mah entire body is stone!” The man roared, stomping the earth once more.
“Shit,” Edgar muttered. This was almost a hard counter to his ability set. Wind was great for penetrating armor joints, but terrible against anything that was completely solid, and at a similar level of power. Gravarn had used some manner of elemental tempering to increase his body’s natural durability to obscene heights.
Before the dwarf could gloat any more, he was greeted with the stubborn fact that Edgar was not the only fighter in his army capable of dealing with him. A bellow of rage announced the approach of Hushar, a mountain of red skin and muscle that drove his greatsword into Gravarn’s sternum. Stone cracked beneath the strike, and the sword lengthened as a cleaver of obsidian erupted from its end, almost skewering Gravarn where he stood. The dwarf was still too tough for that, but his body turned into a wrecking ball that flattened scores of his own soldiers. As he rose to his feet, blood seeping from his broken armor, Hushar grinned. Then he raised his sword and coated it with his Domain.
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Gravarn thrust his hand forth, recalling his hammer to his hand. Microadjustments to the local gravity fields conveyed the weapon through the air, landing squarely in his metal clad fist. He slammed the weapon’s haft against the ground, and charged. Although his movements were ponderous and weighty, they contained enough power to bring down a castle wall. Hushar had no wish to be hit by a full power swing from the other man’s hammer, and he evaded, swinging his sword towards the nape of Gravarn’s neck.
“Ah think yer forgettin something, laddie. Ah ain’t the only elite in Slothari’s legion.” Gravarn said calmly. Just before the sword impacted his neck, a flash of brilliant light occluded Hushar’s vision, and when it returned, he saw a glistening plane of force standing between his weapon and Gravarn, holding it in place effortlessly. A stately elven woman descended from the sky, wings of white light flapping regally behind her. Her fists were coated in coruscating shields, writhing around one another, creating designs that seemed too pure for the world.
The shield pulsed, and Hushar was thrown backwards, a wave of pure momentum breaking bones and tossing him off his feet. Gravarn chuckled, and continued his charge, heading towards Edgar.
Three more figures emerged from the palace at the center of the city, flying down the sides of the mountain that dominated the Oozing Bastion. Edgar’s heart fell, but he resolved to fight to the end. Whatever happened here, Jonathan would return, and cement his control over the realm. He was capable of defeating all of these fighters on his own.
Before Edgar could indulge in any more morose fantasies, the sky cracked open above them, a portal forming there. A titanic roar echoed across the city, and a titan of an Uthraki dropped from the portal, landing before Gravarn. Before the dwarf could do anything, the newcomer’s fist rocketed out so quickly that it seemed to teleport. One second Gravarn was there, and the next his corpse was hurtling through the air at many times the speed of sound.
Arkanon, for it could only be him, slammed his gauntlets together, a rattling boom splitting the air, already filled with the sounds of war. “I AM ARKANON, LORD OF THE SECOND CIRCLE OF TARTARUS! SLOTHARI IS DEAD, AND YOUR TIME HAS COME!”
Where the resolve of the legions of Mire had remained despite the arrival of Edgar and the others, now it broke. Arkanon stalked forwards, and punched the air, a shell of pure elemental power and Master Ranker domain energy exploding forth. Ten thousand warriors died in an instant, reduced to clouds of ash drifting on the wind.
Edgar and Hushar let loose a full bodied battle cry, and they were quickly joined by their followers. With the sound of two thousand feet hitting the ground at once, the army followed Arkanon, entering the fray.