The caverns tremble under the weight of countless explosions. It shivers the flame held in the lantern Ronan carries. He grasps his grappling hook, stopping it from clattering against his armor.
Lady Lyris motions for their group to stop. As he freezes, Ronan hears voices in an incomprehensible language. They echo from above, through openings leading to higher caverns in the labyrinthine network. He twists his lantern, covering the glass sections with metal covers. The other lantern bearers imitate him.
A cone of white light shines through a ceiling hole, illuminating the ground as if it were in broad daylight. It moves along the ground, searching for them. Lady Lyris motions them to move back, and they enter various tunnels, cowering from the light.
The light vanishes. A voice echoes from where the light came from before another answers from the opposite side of the hole. Green, luminescent sticks fall, bouncing off rocks and rolling across the ground. Two ropes descend, followed by two figures in strange armor. Both summon a cone of light to scan the area with their backs to each other's.
Ronan cowers into the tunnel before a light illuminates him. He sees Lady Lyris vanish into mist, the only trace of her presence being her footprints in the dusty ground. She's slow, her ability forcing her to maintain a languid pace. The lights moving away from his tunnel, he sticks his head out.
Lady Lyris manifests next to an enemy and seizes him by the neck. She thrusts her dagger into his throat; he blocks her blade with the tool he holds. She pulls him back and stabs him in the chest.
The enemy convulses as the dagger hits him, but his movements remain precise. He grabs her hand, keeping her blade into his stomach, and bows forward. His move lifts Lady Lyris above his shoulder, throwing her to the ground with her blade still in his stomach.
The second man spins around, bringing his light onto them. Ronan charges with a roar, attracting his immediate attention. The man levels his illuminating artifact at Ronan, blinding him with its light. Thunder echoes; burning pain tears Ronan's leg apart, bringing him to the ground. His blade escapes his grasps and skids against the cavern's ground.
Lady Lyris twists on the ground and sweeps her opponent's legs while turning her blade in his guts. He screams as he falls to the ground. She lunges at the second man as he turns back towards her. He levels his artifact at her and unleashes countless blasts. She coils around his attacks, ducking below them.
A crack of thunder comes from above. Lady Lyris falls to the ground, blood pouring from her skull. The second man lights the tunnel Ronan came from while sidestepping towards his wounded comrade. A voice comes from above as a third figure descends one of the ropes.
The third man grabs spheres from his chest and tosses them in the tunnels. Deflagrations deafen Ronan, but not enough to avoid him the agonizing screams of those in the tunnels.
The second enemy stabs their wounded with small cylinders and pours powder into the exposed dagger wound. He grabs the wounded and places him on his back. Despite his wound, the first man grabs tightly onto his comrade, freeing his hands.
The third man walks up to Ronan and aims his artifact at his head. A repeated whisper crawls on the cavern's walls, echoing as it goes deeper into the caves. They exchange a word, and the second man climbs back up, his comrade still on his back.
The remaining enemy kicks Ronan's blade towards him; Ronan grabs it and gives everything to stand up. The enemy levels his artifact and unleashes three cracks of thunder. Rowan falls, his chest burning with pain.
The mountain roars, the sound shaking the ground and Ronan's insides. He looks at his opponent and finds him gone, already climbing a rope. Won't he end his suffering? Ronan's eyes grow heavy as his strengths leave him.
Another roar echoes, louder than before. The cavern floor quakes beneath Ronan, dislodging stones and stirring dust clouds. Barely conscious, Ronan feels the earth tremble again, in a pattern like the footsteps of a beast.
"The enemy assault has been broken," major Rook says. She turns away from the battlefield, where mortars and machine guns are still raging. "Only a few stragglers remain; they won't last long. I want a report on our wounded. Also, get me a count on ammunition and remaining supplies."
"Understood, Major," Daniel's second lieutenant says. He leaves the balcony, demanding assessments through his radio.
Major Rook sighs, breaking her stoic persona. Her fingers tap against her own radio as her expression turns worried. She glances back at the battlefield, her eyes on the fallen silver knight. "Daniel, how many people like her could we be facing?"
"I do not have that kind of data," Daniel answers. We would need to study their population extensively to come to any conclusion. A similar survey is ongoing in the U.S., but the ones who profit from the system are reluctant to comply. "In our world, ten percent of people saw a significant increase in capabilities with the system. And based on the labyrinth incident, one in a thousand could prove a real threat."
"And they were only given less than two months to grow," Rook adds.
"Not only that, but their access to dungeons had to be limited," Daniel adds. He opens his own status and sighs. The sight of his lowly second level disheartens him. "Most of us could require years of regular raids to reach level twenty. I must be the same here. Most of their soldiers would never have reached her level. But if one of the labyrinth's strongest was given a decade to train, they would surpass her. The Paladin is already there."
"Do not mention him," Rook reminds him. They were ordered to forget about his presence; it escaped Daniel. She extends her hand before her, looking at something Daniel cannot see. "The difference in our leveling speeds isn't everything. Some, like me, see and direct the Ether with a mere thought; others, like you, cannot sense it. Without it, you cannot feed your abilities, making you even weaker."
Something whips Daniel's back. It brings him to his knees; blood seeps into his mouth, filling his nose with its stench. Rook stares south, behind Daniel. He stands and turns around to see fire illuminating the top of the nearby mountain. Something moves in the crater – a mass of red scales. It unfurls its wings and breathes out a column of fire that pierces the clouded sky.
The dragon's roar reverberates through the air, drowning out their guns. The sight of it makes Daniel fall back down, his legs giving up. It climbs out of the mountain, dragging clouds of dust and debris behind it.
"Major Rook to Lieutenant-Colonel Alastair," Rook begins. "I have eyes on what I can only describe as a dragon. Request immediate support for aerial engagement, over."
The beast takes flight, its eyes trained on the portal. It moves with incommensurable speed, crossing the kilometers separating them in seconds. The winds it creates uproot trees as it hurtles towards the fortress. The Apaches rise, unleashing their remaining rockets and shells on the beast. Explosions bloom across its body, unable to slow it down.
With another roar, the dragon beats its wings, summoning an expanding gale. The force shatters the rotors of the closest Apache, sending it spiraling to the edge of the tree line. The remaining helicopter retreats, its pilot struggling to maintain control.
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Rook yells orders through her radio, her voice drowned out by the furious winds. The Abrams fire at it from the fort's exterior, their sabots breaking through its scales but not its flesh, spreading them like shrapnel. The southernmost artillery fires shells that scatter flames across its body, unable to wound it.
The dragon descends upon the fort. Its maw opens wide, revealing a furnace-like glow that outshines the setting sun. A torrent of fire erupts – a searing beam of destruction that engulfs the fortress's outer wall. Abrams and fortified positions melt. The defenses are reduced to slag, glowing embers rising from the ground.
Rook's radio comes to life. "Vice Admiral Andersen to Major Rook. We diverted F-16s to your positions; they should be with you any moment now. Over."
'This isn't right. The sixth fleet would take hours to send a fighter from their carrier,' Daniel thinks. He stands back up, the thought of what could be happening on the other side giving him the strength to go look through the portal.
The smell of fire and ash invades Althea's lungs. As she opens her eyes, embers fill her blurred sight, dancing in the air and slowly descending on her. She digs her armored finger into the mud below her. They twitch, her every muscle protesting against her intent. The world swims around her, the edges of her vision dark. Her chest feels heavy, as though a mountain presses on her ribs.
The sound of battle crashes into her – a symphony of thunderous cracks, shrieking wings, and the guttural roar of a beast. She hears the ogres roaring in pain near her, their massive form rolling in the mud. Memories flood back with nauseating speed, and her heart rages to life. It races recklessly, each beat coming with a sharp pain.
Althea groans, her voice drowned beneath the storm of chaos around her. She touches her chest, finding a hole in her armor and flesh. Through her blurred vision, Althea sees a dragon landing on the fort's right side, peeling off its towers and walls.
The beast's red scales shine with the fire it brought, each edged with blackened cracks. Heat radiates from its body in waves, distorting the air around it. Smoke trails from its maw as liquid fire drools from it. It roars again, the sound reverberating deep into Althea's bones.
Althea freezes, her eyes locked on the beast as old tomes' images strike her mind. This is Cinderis, the Scorching Scourge, a creature who can destroy kingdoms. Althea's breath catches, and she grabs her sword from the ground. For a second, she sees someone standing atop Cinderis, somewhere on the dragon's back. Pain stabs her leg as she tries to stand, her bone still shattered.
Althea closes her eyes to draw light Ether from her oath. Searing pain burns her heart, denying her Seraphel's help. She peers into the Ether and senses death Ether carved onto her heart. It forms sigils unknown to her that come to agonizing life as she tries to summon light Ether.
Panic takes Althea as she realizes she cannot sense Seraphel's presence – that constant feeling of safety she always lived with. She glances around, finding Leofric's form fallen beside her. Ignoring her side and chest burning with pain, she dives her hand into his satchels and retrieves vials.
Cinderis' chest heaves as it prepares another breath, her throat glowing along cracks in her scales. Its tail lashes behind it, crushing fleeing enemies and making the ground tremble.
The portal unleashes ear-piercing screams. The very air shakes, sending tremors through Altea's armor. A metal bird, its wings stiff to its sides, bursts through the portal and soars high into the sky. The dragon's attention snaps to it, and it flies after the new beast.
Althea removes her helmet and drinks up a healing potion. A soothing warmth blooms in her chest, spreading through her veins, knitting her wounds. The stabbing pains in her chest dull. The fractured bone in her leg begins to mend, the sensation agonizing as the broken pieces move to fuse back together.
"Leofric," Althea whispers as she rolls to her knees. She presses a hand to his neck, searching for a pulse. She finds none and soon sees the opposite half of his head, blown off by another spell.
Althea bows over his body, her head touching his armor as tears burgeon in her eyes. She glances back up at the crumbling fort; a figure watches her from above. 'Mourn later,' Althea hears Leofric say. She wipes the tears from her face, smearing ash and blood across her skin.
A flash of light comes at her from the fort's walls. She protects herself from it, blocking a spell with the kite shield still strapped to her forearm. She has to take to the fort and kill their leader, their hero, who spearheads the invasion. It will give her world time to prepare for what is to come, even if it is as little as another week.
Cinderis twists in the air as their beast of metal turns around, its speed superior to that of the dragon. One after the other, iron birds burst through the portal along with piercing screams. They arc upward, soaring into the sky to reform in a flock of fourteen beasts. They chase the dragon and unleash a torrent of fire bolts onto its back.
Althea uncorks another of Leofric's potions, a vial of deep orange bearing the glass sculpture of a bear. She hesitates only a moment before drinking it. The taste burns like molten metal against her tongue.
A fire ignites in her chest, spreading through her veins like wildfire. Her muscles billow with steam as she triggers Strengthening, the ability allowed to go further by the potion. Every ache, every pain, is drowned in an overwhelming tide of power. Her vision sharpens, every ember in the air becoming distinct and slower. She sees a path to the gate as the fire covering it dies down. Her heart pounds like a war drum, urging her to move.
Replacing her helmet, Althea breaks into a sprint. She tears through the mud; each step feels like it threatens to lift her into the air. Something explodes under her right foot, tumbling her. She steadies herself and charges through the path, her armor and shield deflecting countless spells.
With a battle cry, Althea crashes into the fort's gates. The wood and iron shatters under her weight and strength. Splinters rain down around her as she charges through the breach.
A man levels a metallic log at her. She bursts forward, leaving him no time to act before she slams her shield in his guts. He flies backward and splatters against a wall, his blood raining on others cowering behind cover.
'Vow of destruction,' Althea thinks. The world darkens; only the enemies she sees remain, highlighted in blood red. They rise from their covers, using their artifacts to unleash spells that skid off her. More on the ramparts do the same, their attacks unable to harm her. She moves forward and kicks a cut half wall of slick stone, hurling it at two of them.
The rock crushes them and rolls over their frame. The red auras Althea sees leave their bodies to seep into her. A shimmer of light rises along her blade, armor, and shield, humming with power. Some of the world's colors return to her, making her aware of her surroundings.
Arrows fly from the outside, striking exposed enemies in the side and neck. War cries come from behind Althea as heavy infantry bearing Vandris' colors charge through the broken door. They are few, but they are angry and bloodthirsty. The enemies' artifacts fail against their Ether-rich, thick armor and shields. Her allies' speed overwhelms the enemies' sparse lines. They may be terrifying at range, but they fall like flies in melee combat.
They retreat into a tunnel, forming a column that unleashes incessant spells. Althea charges shield first into it. Each step reverberates with metallic clang, drowning out the panicked shouts of those before her.
A cluster of enemies scrambles to exchange parts of their artifacts for new ones. Shielding herself from the others, she lunges at them, her blade cleaving through their bodies. Each kill gives strength to her gear, making her sword sharper and her armor lighter.
She hurls her shield into the next group, her power and weight spreading them across the wall. The remaining flee, giving up on slowing down her advance. Althea tears off a loose rock from the wall and hurls it at them. It pierces through three men, scattering their chests.
The last of them exit the corridor and close a door. Metallic spheres fall from the overhead murder holes. They bounce in metallic clicks and detonate. In a blast of light and sound, thousands of projectiles hit her, scraping against her armor and rare exposed skin.
Althea turns to see the men who followed her screaming in pain. Several bleed from the joints of their armor, only covered in leather and cloth. Others tumble around, holding their ears. One removes his helmet to reveal his torn-out eyes.
Althea runs down the remaining portion of the corridor, barreling through the door. She breaks it along the stones that held it in place. It leads her to an inner yard where enemies run towards the portal. Cracks of thunder rage from above the murder holes, striking her allies on the head.
A metal beast turns its head, aiming a large, hollowed staff at Althea. She raises her shield, deflecting attacks as she charges the monster. She can feel its spells, like hammers swung at her by an ogre. She crashes into the beast, but it doesn't move. Althea dashes along its rectangular body, hurling her sword through it. She hits something hard, her blade stopping into it. The beast's incessant roars die, and clear, translucent blood pours out of the wound.
Cinderis twists in the air as the flock rises above the clouds after a raid on its side. It sends a column of fire after them, lighting the sky with crimson flames. Head-sized embers rain down upon the fort, bringing along billowing black smoke.