Cauldrakon struck out at the city with two of its armored tentacles. Both of these attacks were blocked by gigantic magical sigils hovering in the sky. The teal color of the soaring arcane wards matched that of the robed figure Joe had seen.
The storm-beast roared again, furious its attacks were being thwarted. This time, its bellow was accompanied by a fury of crackling bolts of electricity. The gigantic flying glyphs rebounded this assault as well, but the lightning was clearly eating its way through the mystic barricade.
Suddenly, rods of steel lanced upward from the top of the storm-wall. These towering metal spears slotted between the circle of symbols in the sky, drawing Cauldrakon’s electrified breath down into the stonework holding back the worst of the storm surge.
Joe did not have enough time to pick out who had conjured the lightning rods. The group in the bunker collectively gasped as two of the massive tentacles slammed down on the aqua-hued barrier simultaneously. The ward wavered significantly but managed to hold.
Another strike slipped around the sigil, directed at the tight ranks of the Council Guard. The guardians immediately swept their shields up over their heads, forming a turtling shield-wall. A metallic sheen, similar to the spears, flowed over the shields, melding them into a solid steel dome. The blow rang deafeningly, even where Joe was watching from the arcane bunker; he couldn’t imagine how loud it must have sounded inside that steel shell. When the silver metal withdrew, it was easy to see the tall leader of the Guild lowering his arms.
“Septimus is a ferromancer,” Kenda explained. Joe looked over at her and noticed, in the rosy light from Vexor’s arcane walls, that her brown hair looked red. “He has a mythic level spell that gives him almost complete control over most metals, especially iron and steel.”
“What about the one in the aqua robes,” he asked. “I’m assuming that that is their work,” he added, pointing at the spell-circle in the sky.
“Yeah. That’s Arch-Druid Awan Dawnsong,” Earcellwen offered. “She is the leader of the Storm Wardens. The rest of the wardens are likely nearby.”
“Next to the Storm Warder is Lady Yalaeth Blackgrove,” Kerrig added. The armored defender’s voice was overflowing with admiration. Lady Blackgrove clearly had a fan. He was standing behind Earcellwen, but he could easily see past her since he was well over a foot taller than the elven archer. “She is a paladin of Blu, the god Sea and Skys. She’s also the representative for the churches on the city council.”
“What about the dwarf,” Joe asked. Almost every dwarf he had seen so far was protected by at least a minimum of leather armor, even the shopkeepers. This was the first member of that race Joe had seen who seemed to be wearing nothing but cloth robes.
“That is Manitou Hogam Goldboar. He’s a powerful spiritualist and the head of the Lore-Keepers,” Kenda explained. “He can call on the spirits of Fort Coral’s ancestors to empower the Council Guard. With his spirit-host charging up their formation magic, the guards might have been able to withstand that blow without Master Silver’s dome.”
“Looks like they are getting ready to counterattack,” Kerrig declared. They followed the fighter’s gaze to see the formation of the Council Guard change. The front opened, and the four council members stepped forward.
“How are they possibly going to fight something like that?” Joe shouted over the winds. He could not take his eyes off the titanic monster, three times more powerful than even Saint Suku, hovering over the city. “What level are the council members?”
“Lady Blackgrovel is in the lead,” Kendell answered. “She is in her eighties. Guildmaster Silver and Arch-Druid Dawnsong are in their seventies. I think Manitou Goldboar is in his high sixties.”
“Then how are they going to tackle something with a level in the three hundreds.”
“That number would be horrifying were we not where we are,” Vexor replied, still making marks in the air and onto the walls he was maintaining. “The city’s defenses will seriously hamper Cauldrakon. Woven into every plaza and city wall are wards. Strong ones. They are why high-level earth mages can’t just knock down the walls or why demonologists couldn’t summon swarms of fiends into the middle of the city.”
“Also,” Kerrig added. “I know what the rest of the Storm Wardens are doing. My [Tactical Awareness] is reading dozens of debuffs on the monster. That thing is seriously curse-loaded. It’s still a major threat, Joe, but between the city-wards and wardens, I’d say its attacks and defenses will be at least halved.”
That still represented a creature more powerful than Joe had ever seen. He watched with the others as the council members took their places. Septimus Silver and the Arch-Druid extended their hands toward the sky. More lightning rods shot off the tops of roofs while the sigil thickened and grew more pronounced.
The dwarf and the regal paladin stood together. Lady Blackgrove was shouting a prayer to the heavens. When Cauldrakon formed, the tempest had diminished, but the winds were still lashing about. Her long black hair whipped behind her. Joe tried to make out what she was saying, but the remaining squalls shredded her ceremonial cries. The only thing he really managed to grasp was that Blu might be the father of the gods.
From all directions, glowing willow-o-wisps of light gathered around the woman. At first, Joe thought her prayers had called the floating lights until he saw the dwarven manitou directing the spectral wisps to her. As the spirits flowed into the paladin, she grew taller. Soon, the raven-haired warrior stood as tall as the guildmaster, surpassing his height a second later. She continued to grow until she towered above all the others, nine feet tall. Her mighty voice broke through the winds and boomed clearly across the beachfront.
“COME CHAMPION OF THE SEAS AND DO BATTLE WITH THIS PRIMORDIAL TERROR! IN BLU’S NAME AND BY THE WILL OF OUR ANCESTORS, RISE!”
Even though the storm-wall had blocked the worst of the storm surges from flooding the city, there had still been several inches of water flowing through the streets. As they watched, that flood was sucked back to the sea. The ocean pulled back even further, revealing the sea floor near the shore. Joe had seen a bunch of disaster movies that depicted this event as the precursor to a tsunami, yet he could not imagine the paladin planned to hit the city with a tidal wave.
Looking out over the ocean, a gargantuan form bulged up from the ocean’s surface. At first, it seemed like it really was the beginning of a great wave until the sides dropped off it. The form was more of a tower than a long line. Joe’s next thought was something was up from the water. The form became man-like, one with massive shoulders and long streaming hair. As it rose, heavily muscled arms were exposed. It carried with it a titanic sword. It was a thick bastard sword with a long framed ricasso, enough that someone could easily half-hand with the sword even without gauntlets.
It was the sword that finally allowed Joe to resolve what his eyes were seeing. He could see through the blade and, to a lesser degree, the body itself. This being was made from the ocean. It was impossible to gauge the size of the watery giant, but Joe guessed from the size of the visible torso it might reach a hundred feet tall if it were to step fully free of the ocean.
“Margen,” Kerrig and Kendell both uttered in voices filled with awe.
“The founder?” Joe asked.
“Yeah,” Kedna confirmed. “It’s hard to make out his features, but that is Margen. I know it.”
“The sword is the clincher,” Kerrig added. “That is definitely Doomherald.”
Cauldrakon turned in the sky, noting the massive form advancing towards it. The legendary beast was larger from one tentacle end to another, but overall, the titanic avatar’s mass exceeded the monster’s. In an act of pure malice, the storm-fiend whirled back at the defenders on the wall and screamed once more. It flared its coils out to their furthest limit in order to reach around the soaring sky-sigil. From the tip of each tentacle, a torrent of electricity hammered into the ground along the shore.
Joe caught a brief glimpse of Rattler Squad being struck by several bolts before the bunker lit up under the assault. Vexor howled as his construct began to overload. Without thinking, Joe spun and clapped a hand to the cambion’s arm to heal him, only to be shot across the fort by a powerful electrical discharge. He thumped into the prime’s rubbery side, which saved him from impacting with the sparking red force barricade. To his surprise, the beast was, for lack of a better word, purring. As the crackling energy jumped off the magical walls, flickering and snapping into the akhlut’s hide, the big bruiser seemed to be enjoying it.
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While Joe was safe against the prime, the others were not. The guards and Kerrig, both covered in metal armor, were suffering the most. Vex lay on the ground, holding his head. The three female guilders were also receiving countless shocks.
Joe quickly dual-cast [Heart Fire] in the small space, trying to balance out the damage. He summoned a mana potion from his belt and downed it. He then sent a [Healing Wave] to the guardsmen. Kerrig’s defenses were clearly superior to those of the soldiers. Their small formation was turning bright red in his would-sight.
Your skill [Healing Wave] has increased to rank 7
As he gulped down a second mana potion, the lightning barrage finally relented. Before he could check on the mage, a sibilant soft voice echoed into Joe’s head.
“You are needed. If you can trust us, we can save them,” Suku whispered into his mind. By us, Joe immediately knew she meant herself and the goddess Myrrhcee. Joe knew he generally was a trusting person, sometimes too much. Yet, in this case, he really did trust Suku, and that brief connection to Myrrhcee had revealed to him a being of near-limitless compassion.
“What do you need?” he thought back.
“The soldiers by the shore, you must get to them. Immediately!”
The urgency in her telepathic voice was dire. Joe looked to where Rattler Sqaud had been. He first noticed that the red bunker had been seared into more of a lattice than solid walls. There were holes and gaps everywhere. This allowed Joe to see the soldiers clearly; every single man and woman lay prone, trails of steam and smoke rising off their bodies.
Joe locked onto the spot a little over halfway there and jumped. He heard the prime bellow behind him, followed by a sound similar to breaking glass. Joe didn't wait. He jumped his way into the middle of the squad and reached out to the Mercy.
“I’m here!” he shouted with his thoughts.
“Do you accept us?”
“Yes! Hurry.” The bodies around him were fading fast. Only the faintest flickers of dark red glints smoldered in the collective troop.
The powerful priestess’ answer was so much more than Joe could have anticipated. A juggernaut of mana, power, life, magic, essence, energy slammed into him from the heavens. He fell to his knees as the warm yet unbearable pressure exploded out of his body. As it washed over the fallen soldiers, he could see life infusing into the scorched, blackened skin, flaking the dead crust off to reveal pink beneath the char. The deluge of power was not painful, yet at the same time, Joe felt like he was being crushed.
A briny, wet huff blew into his face as the prime stepped up over him. Somehow, the big predator had tiptoed through the fallen forms to stand directly over Joe. It rumbled growls at the sky, as to challenge Cauldrakon to try and get at the man it was protecting. Joe was barely able to control his own body, but he managed to place his hand on a webbed-clawed toe beside him, expressing his gratitude to the sea-hunter.
After an eternity, or a few seconds, depending on the point of view, the waves of healing subsided, and the connection to the Mercy ended. The soldiers began to sit up. Almost universally, they first looked at their hands, arms, or some other part of themselves. Their faces were filled with disbelief, unable to fathom how they had lived through Cauldrakon’s hellish attack.
Then they shouted in alarm at the sight of the massive black and white chimera standing in the midst. Joe tried to get his mouth to work to tell them the prime was an ally, but no sound came out of his mouth. All the effort accomplished was popping his ears.
“STAND DOWN!” bellowed a powerful baritone voice. Joe managed to flop his head to see the manitou jogging toward the group. “This one is not an enemy of Fort Coral. Leave him be and resume your formation. It is not over yet.”
The man was near enough now for Joe to see the shamanistic dwarf clearly. The studs on his leather armor up close turned out to be dozens of metal disc-shaped charms. Names, dates, and tiny runes were carved into each disk. He also had a bandoleer that was filled, not with knives or darts, but bones.
Hogam Goldboar: Dwarf (Kadrel): Shaman/Oungan/Manitou 68
At the same time as he assessed the councilman, Joe felt the brush of Hogam’s assessment.
“So yer the Joe I’ve been hearing about,” the spiritualist stated, placing a heavy hand on Joe’s shoulder to keep him seated. “Good things. Now, I’d stay down, son. We have a minute before things get lively again. I’m not sure why the Mercy channeled through you instead of me. You must be a better connection. Still, you should not be harnessing that much power at your level. I’ve seen novices burn out under far less than what she passed through you.”
“Just a bit loopy, sir, but I feel fine,” Joe replied as his eyes looked up past the black wall of akhlut hide to where the two great behemoths were battling over the ocean. Both of the titans were looking pretty ragged, but it was hard to tell for sure what state they were in since neither creature had a solid body. Every few seconds, a tentacle would lance into the Margen avatar, tearing off swaths of seawater. At the same time, the great sword hacked off tentacles that dissipated into streams of black clouds. Both of the leviathan-sized creatures reformed, though a little smaller each time. Each had shrunk considerably since Joe had exited Vexor’s bunker.
By the time Hogam helped Joe to his feet, the colossal combatants were on their last legs. As they grappled each other, rivers of water were flowing out of the enormous avatar. The only truly solid feature of the figure was the massive sword that had been plunged through the body of Cauldrakon.
With a thunderous boom, the two finally sundered each other. Margen unraveled into a great falling column of water while the storm beast splintered into blobs of thick black gas. As they came apart, so too did the last of the typhoon. Between one moment and the next, the sky began to lighten, and the winds quieted.
Joe breathed a breath of relief, but Hogum shook his head. “It’s not over yet. It’s never that easy.”
The manitou pulled Joe back towards the shatter bunker and his guild team. Looking back over his shoulder, Joe saw the man had been right. The falling smoky scraps were not dissipating but tumbling out of the sky, only to spatter onto the beach in a growing pile of greasy-looking goop. The congealing blob began to shudder as it grew. A blue and black armored leg speared its way free from the heap of bubbling flesh. Another followed. And another. A vicious-looking pincer followed them.
The rest of the transformation took place as the three military units reformed back into squares and joined together. More legs and another mighty pincer thrust free of the pile. Finally, a demonic crab-like body emerged from the diminished fragments.
Cauldrakon the Devil-Shell: Level 234 - ? - ? - ? - HP ????/????
“Really!” Joe huffed as he reached his friends alongside the spiritualist and the akhlut.
The creature, while significantly smaller than its previous form, still stood taller than most of the buildings in the area. It was at least thirty feet across its back, with each leg about as long. Its dark ridged shell looked thick enough to repel even heavy axes.
The mammoth crab oriented itself on the forces arrayed to face it. The enormous pinchers clacked together so loudly that they sounded like gunshots. Just when it looked like it was about to charge, Kendell cocked her head as if she was listening to something only she could hear.
“Everybody cover! Incoming!” she screamed.
The cannon blast from the guildhouse was so much louder without the screaming winds drowning it out. Worse yet, the impact that smashed into the towering demonic creature backlashed into everyone along the wall. The formation magic held the troopers in place. The others, including Joe, did not fair as well. The shockwave bowled over everyone except the chimera.
As bad as the blast was for those nearby, it was devastating for Cauldrakon. A massive fissure opened in the creature’s shell. The second artillery shell found that crack and detonated inside the monstrosity. For the second time in a matter of moments, the now epic-level horror was torn apart.
The defenders whooped as the gigantic beast splintered into hundreds of pieces. Oddly enough, each piece kept its carapace-like coating, and their form was that of the great crab. The crumbling behemoth reformed into a massive swarm of miniature replicas. Miniature as compared to the titanic being it had been. Each of the scuttling shapes was at least as big as a Rottweiler. Some were as big as bulls.
Joe assessed the storm beast one more time.
Cauldrakon Squall-Swarm: Level 142 - Primordial - Swarm - Vigor - HP 4422/4422
The attitude of the group shifted quickly. The formations changed from defense to offensive. Edror sheathed his heavy swords and drew a long, two-handed blade. Many other guilders also swapped to more deadly-looking gear. These were enemies they had a chance to fight.
Kendell bounded to her feet and dragged Joe up after her.
“Come on!” she crowed. “This is going to be fun. Let’s go crack some crabs!”