The Stormsummoner drifted along the air currents. She kept aloft on the winds from the storm itself, letting them carry her for now. She focused instead on far down below her.

Artillery shells shrieked in, earth exploding down below as they impacted. Vehicles, infantry, the occasional large gun trying to run the gauntlet through the shell-cratered highway. Most ended up mired in the muck caused by the torrential rain. Most of them spread out, trying to find their own path free of the bombarded road.

The earth there was even worse for travel, they were finding. Scales abandoned vehicles, splashing through the mud as they sank to their waists

Eagle’s blessing made it look only a hundred feet away. She loitered a few thousand above in reality. Perfect for sniping those below with lightning bolts, but there’d be none today.

Her mana sustained the storm spell pouring rain down on them. She couldn’t spare the mana to heave enough bolts down to end them. Instead, another Traveler, Hans, had given her tools for such an occasion.

She reached for the pull rope by her side. On her back was a pack filled with enchanted explosives for this occasion.

Some of the vehicles halted, and suddenly, the sky around her was filled with tiny explosions. They’d spotted her.

Futile. The fight had drained her Amulet of Protection, but it wasn’t empty yet. Shell bursts sent shrapnel hurtling pointlessly toward her. Her shield burned incandescent as they hit, metal melting as it made contact.

Amulet of Protection charge at 570/1000 Mana invested. At the current rate, the reservoir will empty in twenty minutes.

She turned gently, watching as more streams reached up. Okay, her mana reserves weren’t limitless. Sustained fire directly at her would start to chew through her amulet rapidly. She pulled a cord by her side, and the bottom of the backpack opened up. One by one, the payload flew out.

***

Markos strained as he tried to get Hervosa to safety.

Somehow, he’d gotten a tourniquet on and not gotten hit by any more of the artillery. Shells had thrown muck all over them, but no direct hits. His and her wounds were filthy, though.

Even without the leg, she weighed more than he could carry. So, instead, both of his arms hooked under her shoulders, and he began to drag. She woke up and was babbling about leaving her firearm behind and wanting to return and get it. She had to be in shock.

They didn’t need to go far. Just to a vehicle. Any vehicle with space. On the main road, more were moving past, the line slowly moving but still managing to. Shells still landed but not as closely clustered. Some headed off the road only to get stuck, and another jam was forming, but he didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t carry Hervosare himself.

There was more yelling, but there was a different timber to it. An alarm began going off from one of the nearby strong points. Heart sinking, Markos looked to the sky.

It took a second to spot. A dot flew steadily through the sky above, weaving in and out of the storm clouds. It glowed, not from any light but from the sheer number of enchantments cast into their clothing, a flying Traveler soaring through the sky.

Streams of anti-air fire reached up into the sky, trying to hit the Traveler. Futile, between magical shielding, immunity to damage, or whatever other talents the planet-hopping heroes had purchased from the System. Not from this far away, where the number of shells on target would be minimal. But it was all they had. The Traveler had whipped the skies into a frenzy. No firedrake would risk their life up there. No plane would fly.

The flying dot sped up, zooming across the sky over them. Balls of light spawned in its wake. They plummeted towards the ground, soldiers already scattering around Markos. Markos cursed and pulled harder on Hervosare. Someone else came by, yelled, then grabbed a shoulder and helped.

Behind them, the balls of light veered as they dropped, homing in on groups of soldiers as they fell. Panicked screams sounded as they neared, and groups broke further. Soldiers tried to reduce the numbers killed by the munitions, hoping they would be lucky and others would not.

Markos kept on dragging. Whoever was helping him did not run either and they finally made it to the slit trench.

Hevosare screamed as they dragged her in, her wounded leg hitting the side on the way down. They didn’t have a choice. The other soldier immediately started moving her to a more comfortable position. Markos looked over the edge to see if they would die soon.

No balls of light floated near them. Markos had looked up just in time to watch them detonate. Each ball flickered, then suddenly expanded large enough to consume a tank instantly. And then they vanished, taking everything they had covered with them.

He stared blankly at the field behind them. The remnants of a half-track crawled forward, wheels digging into the ground as the bottom scrapped across the field. Corpses fell out, halves of bodies with the missing parts seared shut. One soldier held firmly onto the back, whimpering as the still-moving vehicle dragged the seared stumps of his legs across the dirt. Someone else was screaming at the driver to stop.

Other bodies lay around, parts of them simply gone, seared together masses showing where light’s consumption had stopped. Those entirely consumed were just gone.

Two bodies lay near the trench, portions of their heads just gone, what was left of their faces staring at Markos. Two separate halves of terrified faces looked into his own.

“Got the bleeding stopped. What unit are you with, private?”

A voice was yelling next to his ear, but it sounded like it was a hundred feet away. A tank exploded in the background, ammunition cooking off. The Traveler was turning around, more balls of light spawning as they passed. They were turning back towards them.

From the road, something started chattering, streams of fire spraying towards the Traveler. A half-track crept forward, the quad AA gun on its back beginning to steam as the fire kept up. The Traveler veered off, heading back towards the clouds.

Someone grabbed his collar and shook him. The world snapped back into focus. Only then did he realize the soldier who’d helped him drag Hervosare had bars on his rank insignia. A Captain.

“What unit are you with private?”

“83rd Infantry Captain,” he replied automatically.

“And the unit she’s in?”

“No idea, sir. We linked up at Trost.”

The Captain eyed him. “Are you going to freeze up again like that?”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“No, sir!” He answered as firmly as he could. After a second, the Captain nodded.

“Help me drag her out. Let’s find a way out of here.” The officer strode out of the foxhole, yelling, “Sasdiv, Velas, get over here now! I want Major Dreven now! He must know this mess is on its way to the bridge.”

Maybe a dozen feet away, two wary soldiers poked their heads up, metallic masks knocked askew, exposing skin half covered in Scale patterns. They were as young as Markos, if not younger.

“Radio’s busted, sir,” One of them yelled as they exited the foxhole. “Damn thing tried to kill us, keeping us back. It gave us the choice between sacrificing it to the light or taking us along with it.”

The Captain looked around as if hoping to spot another radio. Markos couldn’t tell if he found one, turning his attention to Hervosare. She was out cold, and he quickly checked her injuries. The bleeding wasn’t too bad yet, but the lack of responsiveness was bad.

“Hervosare? Wake up. Don’t fall asleep!” Crap. He didn’t want to move her, make the wound worse by accident. “Can one of you help me? She’s passed out, and she’s not responsive!”

“Sure. Velas, help the captain,” one of them said, leaping into the trench. She looked at Hervosare calmly, then, to Markos’ horror, pulled out a pistol.

“What are you-“

Before he could react or finish his question, Sasdiv had the pistol aimed a foot to the side of Hervosare’s head. The gun yanked back as the shot sounded like a knife to Markos’ ears.

Hervosare jolted awake and immediately started screaming, hands reaching to grab Sasdiv by the throat. She began to choke the private, who weakly grabbed at her hands.

“Hervosare, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Markos yelled. “We’re comrades. We’re trying to help you.” I’m trying to help you, at least.

The wildness in her eyes faded as his words sank in, and her grip on Sasdiv’s neck loosened. The private pulled back, rubbing at their neck while Velas leaped into the trench beside her.

There was silence for a second, and then Velas slapped Sasdiv across the back of the head. “You lunatic! The hells were you doing? Trying to make her deaf as well as lame?”

“It worked, didn’t it? What the hells are you hitting me for?”

“Were you trying to kill me?”

“What is going on?” The Captain strode back, a radio pack slung over his back, face furious.

Everyone went silent at that. The Captain moved down into the trench, cursing as a boot entered the muck as he tried to keep it sinking further in. “Private, what happened?”

Markos thought quickly, “Private Sasdiv was helping with Corporal Hervosare, sir. Just in an unexpected way.”

“There’s a surprise,” The Captain muttered, finally freeing his boot from the murk.

“Is the radio working, captain?” Markos asked, trying to change the subject, gesturing towards the large pack the Captain held

“In a manner of speaking,” The Captain replied bitterly. He turned a knob on the pack, and it crackled to life. Immediately, a half-dozen overlapping voices emerged, loud and bassy.

“Damn, son, where’d you find those?”

“Damn Boi, he’s thicc boi, that’s a thicc ass boi!”

“-but when you look at me, and you look at Samoa Joe, and you can see that statement is not true-”

“Oh fuck, I can’t believe you’ve done this.”

“Aw shit, here we go again.”

“Why are we still here? Just to suffer?”

“Jammed. Again. They always use the same phrases over and over as well.” The Captain pushed the pack into Sasdiv’s hands. “Sasdiv, you’re lugging it back in case we get out of range of the jamming. Not a word out of you, understood?”

It looked like more than a word was struggling to escape Sasdiv, but she kept it down, simply nodding in response.

“Major’s going to want us at the bridge for the defense, as well as telling him the ground situation since scrying isn’t working. Oh, and if either of you two try a stunt like Sasdiv just did, I’m leaving you for the Travelers. Now, let’s find a way to transport the wounded.”

***

The Juggernaut laughed as bullets ricocheted off his armor. Up ahead, Scales had set up a temporary roadblock made of wrecked vehicles, firing from it. A machine gun pointed at him, firing.

Bullets sprayed futilely against him, not a single one penetrating his armor. The only damage they could have done was to his hearing, and enchanted earplugs muffled the repeated loud dings and ringing of metal hitting metal.

Up on the ruined remnants of a half-track, one of the Scales crouched beside the machine gun was yelling something into a radio. Officer, likely the highest level among them. First target. He called on the winds, then flicked a sword almost as tall as he was.

Wind Slash activated

Wind traveling at a speed greater than sound focused itself into a line barely wider than his thumb. They hit the half-track wreck dead on, splitting it in two.

Wind Slash has hit Carsel Dreken, Level 3 Farmer/Level 4 Soldier/Level 1 Machine Gunner, for 118 damage, destroying the Spine, Heart, Liver, Toxin Sac, Left and Right Kidney, Bladder,...

Wind Slash has hit Morrel Tivo, Level 5 Teacher/Level 3 Soldier/Level 1 Driver, for 112 damage, destroying the Left Knee, Left Leg, Left Hip, Pelvis,....

The Juggernaut did his best to ignore the list of deaths announcing themselves as they piled up. He couldn’t care how many internal organs he’d blown up. It lost its flavor after you got every single one in a single blow.

The visual was more impressive anyway, as the officer split in half, blood spraying as both halves fell away. The wind sliced through it like butter, including other Scales further away. Some still lived, pulling themselves away from sliced off-limbs.

Time for more than a line. The Juggernaut gathered winds in greater force into his blade and let loose another swing.

The two halves of the half-track blasted into the air, sent hurtling with most of the remaining Scales inside. They flew off into the air, like the world's ugliest metal bird, as they flew out of sight. A few Scales who’d dragged themselves out kept firing, futilely trying to stop him.

Suicidal Scales throwing themselves to their deaths once again. They were buying seconds, at best, with this and barely giving any XP to make it worth the effort. Soldiers made the worst enemies, using weapons that let them hit well above what their levels should allow. He hoped the System would adjust so lower-level people could only use weapons fitting that rank.

At least then, he could get some good XP versus the risk. Or, more accurately, the annoyance.

Another shell flew towards him, hitting his armor. The fifteen-pound shell impacted and crumpled against enchanted steel. The force had to go somewhere, and being unable to damage him, the shell tore itself apart.

You have been hit by a 75mm AT shell. Damage Reduction has reduced damage to zero. Saving throw succeeded against conditions Stunned, Disoriented, Suppressed…

He paid no mind to the continuing list of conditions as he strode forward, summoning wind once again as the end of his sword. Their entire group had it as a theme except for the priest. Entirely by accident. Wasn’t the world weird sometimes?

Command of the Winds made for a good ranged combat option since none of them used guns. Well, except for their leader, but he was weird for a Traveler.

Across from him, a Scale assault gun was churning backward from the wrecks of its brethren. It had been hiding there before trying to nail him with its main gun.

Wind Slash activated.

His sword swung, and a wall of wind followed. It went low, traveling near the earth before exploding upward once it reached one of the vehicle tracks.

With a shriek, the vehicle flipped, landing upside down in the muck. The hull machine gun was firing, trying to hit him, and someone inside was still trying to maneuver the larger gun on target. Slowly.

The Juggernaut raised his sword overhead but then stopped. An orb of light was fluttering down towards the vehicle. He quickly shut his eyes.

His head turned away, but the brilliant flash of pure white light was bright enough that it felt like he’d taken a glimpse at the sun. He opened his eyes, blinking heavily as tears began to form.

Nothing was left, only a half-spherical chunk of the ground missing entirely. Faint bits of steam rose, but nothing of the vehicle or crew.

Kill-stealer, he thought, staring after the departing Stormsummoner. He hated kill stealers, although she hadn’t stolen much. The tank wasn’t alive, so the only experience he would have received was for the crew, only a pittance. Even less now, being split between her and whichever alchemist had crafted the munitions.

Still, it was my pittance.

Bullets ricocheted off his helmet, right next to his ear. Snarling, he turned around to face the remnant of the platoon retreating from the ruined roadblock. Well, he had something to work his aggression out on.