Or rather, he was about to do something stupid. As he stepped up onto the sharpened wooden parapet a deafening roar split the battle. The undead seemed to shy back, recoiling from the sound as if in terror.
Many of the defending humans flinched, several clasping hands over their ears as the near deafening wave of sound buffeted them. All eyes turned to the burning sky. For a moment nothing appeared, everything stood still as if soldier and undead monstrosity were united in waiting with baited breath.
Then a serpentine creature descended, it burst through the crimson and saffron clouds, its green scaled form glimmered a rainbow iridescence. The blood red crest of feathers surrounding the crown of its draconic head stood out even against the similarly coloured sky.
As it dropped, the creature stretched out, from snout to tail it was as long as the trunk of an aged pine and twice as wide. Wings, feathered and bird-like, snapped out as the majestic creature plummeted, the motion arresting its descent and causing it to pull up from its dive no higher than thirty metres from the top of the outpost's walls.
A great swelling of wind whipped across the battlefield as the monster glared down on the horde of undeath. Its fanged mouth parted as if in an amused, cruel smile.
“Pocht is not pleased. Pocht is not pleased at all!” It said, its voice a hiss of disapproval. A ripple passed through the ranks of the undead, the intent of the giant ant queen shifted from the defenders, many breathed out in relief at the liberating sensation.
The scaled monster beat its feathered wings a single time. “Perish.” it commanded, the word resounding like the edict of an executioner. Invisible fire danced along every surface, the world responding to the order. Flames, real and white hot with edges of blue rushed from the creature’s open maw like floodgates being flung open to unleash a torrent of water.
A screech of outrage came from the still stationary enslaver as the flames bore down upon the undead horde. A secondary force rippled across the battlefield as a green malevolent light flickered into existence within the chests and eyes of the reanimated corpses.
The undead rushed forward, their ravenous assault on the defensive perimeter of Far-reach redoubling. It wasn’t enough. Whatever empowering magic had been bestowed on the abominations was irrelevant before the flames that ashed flesh and charred bone. Dozens of undead vanished under the torrent of flames, the winged serpent coiled upwards and unleashed a second devastating stream of white and blue down upon the battlefield.
The soldiers below flinched away from the heat, several abandoning the wall entirely to avoid being in the proximity of the attack. Leif activated [Under my Protection] as even his ivory white bark began to crisp at the heat. The reanimated ant queen chittered angrily, malevolent energy built up along its obsidian carapace.
The scaled monster twisted, its entire body contorting to face down the enslaver. Before either monster could clash a solid beam of white streaked across the sky. It fell upon the giant ant, piercing its head before detonating in a wave of radiance.
The entire horde of undead rippled as if struck, their frantic assault of the outpost once again coming to a halt.
“That was my kill!” The serpent hissed, its head snapping upwards.
“It’s still alive.” Hera called from where she crouched atop a pane of solid light. The platform slowly rotated far above Far-Reach. Another angry cry confirmed her observation. The ant reemerging from a cloud of dust and blindingly white essence.
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“Good! Good!” The monster said, snapping its jaws as if eager to tear into obsidian carapace.
“Where’s Kaan?” Hera asked, yelling to be heard over the howling cacophony of undead as they restarted their advance.
“He comes! Yes, yes! He comes soon!”
“Thank fu-” Hera’s expletive was cut short as a lance of dark blue energy ripped down from the sky. She vanished an instant before the beam would have vaporised her, the platform shattering as if made of glass.
The dark energy fired in a continuous line, carving through the horde, the ground, the wall and several soldiers. Where the attack passed the air rippled as it was pulled inwards, dust and debris swirled, the closest soldiers were tugged off balance, stumbling in its direction.
Gravity. A familiar dark blue power.
Leif looked up to see a spec of black far above. It twitched unnaturally, its movements jerky as if partially restrained. The queen shrieked once more, and her daughter replied.
Another lance of navy blue swept across the battlefield, this one aiming for the flying serpent. A section of the wall to Leif’s right was disintegrated, the wooden stakes next to the newly created breach cracked and splintered.
That was too close. Leif thought, his mind racing. Undead charged for the newly created opening, though many fell down into the deep crevice the powerful beams had created. Leif quickly dropped down to position himself within the gap in the outpost's defences.
Almost immediately he was met with an onslaught of rotting flesh and twisted bone. They fell upon him, [Under my Protection] flared into life only to be buffeted by the sheer weight of bodies. He positioned six arms of conjured gold, using his [Willpower], Leif moulded them into spears, the tips sharp and length increased.
When the shield dropped he stabbed out and up, impaling the closest monsters with each strike and an unknown amount packed in close behind them. Leif stepped back, retracting his limbs only to stab forward once again.
He repeated this over and over, each repetition felling several more baleful creatures. Some still possessed flickering green light, their gazes piercing, the energy animating them bubbling in a violent fervour.
Soldiers in imperial silver and blue called for the retreat as a towering abomination reached the wall, it crashed through like a child stomping through play blocks. Another screech split the air, a moment later a beam of blue carved horizontally down through the wall. It split the twisted behemoth from side to side, rotting guts spilling out over the ground.
Leif jerked down, but he would have been too slow. Barely a foot above his head the gravitational energy crackled and dispersed. The top half of the nearby section of wall fell backwards in an almost absurdly slow fashion.
The spriggan staggered back. He hadn’t been the target of that attack, but he had almost been a coincidental casualty. Death had come so close, and so fast that he hadn’t been able to react in time. A feeling of powerlessness swept over him, if affecting the wider scope of this battle had been beyond him before, now what could he do?
Arrows of light arced over the encampment, each targeting the distant figure of the awakened enslaver. Pocht coiled and twisted, moving in erratic patterns in an attempt to reach the undead queen.
Whenever it got too close a beam of dark blue would slice through the world, keeping it at bay.
They had lost, it was only a matter of time before the final defenders fell and the tide of undeath claimed the outpost, erasing all traces of life.
Then the wind changed direction, and the crimson sky parted as if by a colossal wedge. In the distance thunder rumbled across the land and the temperature dropped by several degrees.
Leif twisted around to see what was coming. For an instant he and many of the desperately fighting soldiers held bated breaths. Then, over the horizon and approaching at a blisteringly fast pace, came a vessel. Easily five times the size of the skimmers Leif now saw had almost reached the smaller bluff.
Rain fell, the shower quickly transitioning into a flood, the dry packed dirt of the camp rapidly turning into a muddy mess. Within moments the outpost was bathed in sheets of icy water, from the south, almost indistinguishable from the rolling thunder and inaudible over the sounds of battle, boomed laughter.