Blood erupted, staining cold blades as they reaped countless lives. Bodies dropped to the floor, empty eyes clouded over with regret and pain; Dreams, Hopes, and Loves abandoned to the cold earth. The cries of the innocent and the guilty did not sound so different, both echoing a desperate desire for life and the damning resignation of inevitable death. This was war, the insatiable monster who would forever feast on the differing ideals and greed of man.
Ah, wait. If there was one good thing, it was that the cries of the guilty far outweighed those of the innocent at this moment.
The Merrites could do nothing as Jade and Syèl tore into their ranks. To make confusing matters worse, the electric mage turned herself into a mobile stun battery as arcs of green electricity pulsed from her body at short, regular intervals.
These arcs chained amongst all enemies within ten meters, stunning them in the process. The volts made it easy for the army behind to crush the paralyzed soldiers before they recovered. Javelins wrought from the earth and powered by flames regularly flew ahead of the two, bursting apart defensive shields and formations.
The dwarfs did not lose in ferocity. Led by Yngvar Kernode, they crushed the enemy underfoot. Their master-crafted war hammers and swords tore through the enemy's defenses like a knife through butter.
At the Southern End, Drixlia thundered its way into the heart of the enemy troops, weapons, shields, and skulls crushed beneath its mighty hooves. From atop its back, death missiles ripped through the enemy soldiers.
Next to the war stallion, Kira simply charged, her massive frame enough to directly crush to paste anything she hit full-on. The enemy, whose earlier confusion had descended into all-out panic, could do nothing to stop their charge.
Meanwhile, the drakul, empowered by their leader's imposing figure, slashed, clawed, and bit their way through all opposition, their speed on foot no slower than Drixlia's.
Unfortunately, just when it seemed like the daeben's troops would make it all the way, a massive shockwave crashed against them, bringing their charge to a grinding halt.
Absalon's brows furrowed at the Northern End as an invisible wave crushed the army's charge. He cast his gaze at the warbards at the merrite army’s rear. "So, the true battle begins now."
Olgar, noticing the halted charge, grinned at Shoko as bone spurs grew out of his arms. "You may have gotten us by surprise, but that's the end." To the samurai's shock, he punched his arm into the ground. "Now, let me show you how we do battle in Merriheim!"
Shoko's eyes widened with shock and fear. "Watch out!" She screamed as she jumped backward. The soldiers running past her raised questioning brows but responded too late.
The merrite warbards’ demanding drums pooled with the vocalists' aggressive roars, releasing several waves of mana-enhanced energy across the battlefield. The energy wiped the [Confused] status afflicting the army and replaced it with [Aggression]—a status that boosted mana recovery, attack power, speed, and offered protection from negative status ailments.
The paralyzed soldiers, infused with Aggression , instantly shrugged off their constraints, the battle paradigm swiftly shifting as the Merrite army launched a severe counterattack.
The coalition, unprepared for this sudden reversal, suffered a severe blow to their morale. The situation further deteriorated as dozens of bone spurs shot up from the earth. The towering structures impaled unsuspecting dwarfs and humes and then raised the corpses high for the battlefield to see.
Shoko's eyes turned red with rage. She closed the distance with a feral cry, and in one swift motion, struck down at the crouching lycan.
Olgar laughed as the sword crashed against his raised left arm. Eyes narrowed, he mocked, "How d'ya like my display!?"
Shoko swiftly dodged to the left as his right arm made a blow for her chest. In response, the lycan kicked her feet out from under her. Shoko gasped, breath leaving her chest as her back hit the earth beside the lycan. She swiftly parried the downward swing of two bone blades then shot to her feet, kicking the lycan in the chin.
Both warriors stood straight, one with a snide grin as he roared, "Guess you couldn't save them!"
Shoko cursed as she parried two bone spears then charged the lycan, the two clashing blades in a flurry of rage-filled attacks.
Both armies dismounted at the forefront as the enclosed space did not allow for maneuvering. As a result, those atop restless mounts were relegated to sitting ducks. Syèl, the coalition's greatest weapon, was forced on the defensive, single-handedly shielding the entire army from volleys of magic and arrows.
Jade, Nyte, Blade, and the five dwarven chiefs led the bloody charge against an enemy, who, pumped with the mana boost from their warbards, refused to acknowledge pain or death. The merrite army fought hard even with one limb, even with blinded eyes. The voices of their bards filled them with belief. Their dreams of gold, women, and land propelled them into madness. Madness, which it seemed, the coalition was not in the least bit prepared for.
Jade retreated a step, narrowly dodging a downward swung spear. Her body suddenly accelerated, fists filled with charged lightning. The merrite roared as the fist crashed through his helmet and launched him back into the path of his mates. These men and women, used to the tumbles of war, easily dodged the flailing body. However, they did not expect a sudden eruption of electricity from the man's head. The army now strengthened could only be stunned for half a second before breaking through.
But on the battlefield, half a second was far too much time.
Nyte descended on the merrites, aura blades separating necks from bodies as he charged past. By his side, Blade's swift feet danced among the enemy, dodging blows by a hair's breadth. His spear sung a solitary tune, stabbing through necks with chilling precision. Brows furrowed, the spearman retreated step after step, as the dwarven army was pushed back by the enemy's overwhelming momentum.
The Southern End was not faring any better. Immediately the warbards took charge, Kashi's momentum was seized by the Chaos Order, whose army seemed to have an endless supply of magic scrolls. Although the daeben and his drakul boasted perverse defensive skin that allowed them to shrug off the majority of arrows and elemental magic flung at them, it was quickly turning into a battle of quantity vs. quality.
Worse, since the second set of walls did not rise at their end, the Chaos Order was free to flank Kashi’s drakuls, aiming to cut them down from the sides.
Kashi, who had since dismounted, wordlessly unleashed hell upon the approaching enemy. Fingers moving at speeds invisible to the human eye unleashed endless, unrelenting death upon the enemy. He stood his ground with the drakul, eyes devoid of any emotion, despair, or otherwise. At the flanks, the drakul used their over two hundred meters (seven feet) bodies as battering rams to halt cavalry charges that smelled an opportunity to split the enemy.
Kashi rushed forward, the number of enemies finally surpassing the speed at which he shot. Three warriors, seeing his charge, blocked his path, and stabbed polearms at his chest. The daeben jumped, not even putting these small fries in his eyes. Arrows tore down their skulls and out between their legs as he landed behind them.
The daeben did not stop to admire his work, swiftly punching a war hammer the size of his entire chest out of his way. The warrior who held the hammer glared at the puny daeben through sockets in his helmet. Sockets through which arrows tore, coming out the back of his head. As the corpse crumpled, three soldiers behind him were likewise impaled by the arrow as Kashi's bow shone with a dark light.
A manifestation of a black Chinese dragon tore through the enemy, guided by the charged arrow upon which [Drill] was activated and boosted by dragon qi. The dragon roared as it flew past, leaving dozens of shredded corpses in its wake. Despite his overwhelming strength, the daeben could not move too far forward as he had to cover the drakul. Though very much strong themselves, the proud warriors had begun to tire after two hours of defensive battling.
Kashi panted as his gaze cut across the horde to the man seated at the back of the opposing army. Surprisingly, despite the overwhelming odds, the drakul forces had persevered for over two hours. Although they had lost over seven hundred good men in that time, his lips released a small smile.
Absalon, who had silently watched the defensive battle for the past two hours, nodded. "We lasted longer than expected. I think it is time we began our counterattack."
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Lunette looked to the South, her gaze a mixture of worry and pride. She flinched when she felt a hand placed upon her shoulder and turned to see Lufer smiling at her. "...Is it time?"
Lufer smiled. "It is time."
Lunette's grip tightened around the microphone as she made her way to the center of the orchestra. If one looked closely, they would notice the mic differed significantly from the props she used previously. Runic markings and gemstones lined upon its frame lit up as mana poured into them.
Lufer's gaze turned steely as he raised his baton. "Our friends are taking a real beating out there. Still, they have persevered for this long, patiently waiting for this moment." His eyes traveled among the orchestra before finally resting on the songstress. "Time to give them some hope. Ms. Falsetto, if you please..."
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Mana swirled around the songstress as she took a deep breath...
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"Fuck!" Jade cursed as a stray arrow buried itself in her shoulder. The mage did not have time to tend to her wound as she quickly cast [ Advanced Heal ] on Nyte, who had suffered a massive sword through his abdomen. The electric mage cursed and cursed some more as she cycled between attack and healing, trying her best to keep the frontline intact.
Overwhelmed by the never-ending swarm, she failed to notice a warrior sneak up on her behind. With a triumphant roar, the warrior swung down.
Clang!
Jade blanched, her life narrowly saved as a Summoned named Mitrhe locked blades with the merrite.
"Be careful, miss," the man winked as he kicked the merrite in the abdomen. He buried his ax in the enemy's skull, cold eyes already moving to the next target. He clucked his tongue, brows furrowed with rage as he came face to face with a line of over twenty archers. At this range, there was no way the halben could cover them.
Mitrhe let out a wry chuckle as he moved ahead of Jade.
"No!" The electric mage roared with rage as the warrior who just saved her dropped to the earth, his chest riddled with the enemy's arrows. "[Restore!]" Jade dropped to a knee, panting heavily as the man once again rose to his feet, the wound healed like it was never there. Although saved, the man could only let out a bitter chuckle as another salvo of arrows tore towards them.
All around the battlefield, similar scenes were occurring. The coalition, although having held up bravely for so long, were beginning to feel the fatigue. One after another, they fell to the Merrite's blades, the resistance growing weaker by the second.
GONG!
At this greatest point of despair, a massive bell throughout the battlefield. Jade and Mitrhe gazed with shock as the arrows shattered as if hitting a wall.
GONG!
Blade, feet, and hearts froze as a single voice thundered across the battlefield. Time itself seemed to come to a halt as all of creation was enraptured by the heavenly voice resonating across the battlefield.
"Fires Claim Brothers' Souls, I was Petrified,
Thoughts are so Unclear, Is No One By My Side,
Spent so Many Nights Thinking How I Was Done Wrong,
Yet I Grow Stronger, You Teach me How to Give Love
I'm Out of Breath, You're Out of Hope,
Crawling Out of Hell with Despair Upon Your face,
Change is to be Loved,
Shoulda Told You When I Had the Chance,
But if There is One Person Worth Saving,
It is you my Love!
Ooh, I, no We will Survive,
Ooh, Now That We Have Both Learned To Love,
I know We'll Stay Alive.
You've got all Your Life to Live,
I've Got All This Love to Give,
We, We will Survive!..."
A Summoned by the name of PsychFangirl4ever spun the dual scimitars in her hands, eyes glowing with charged light as power coursed through her veins. Indeed, she would not die in a place like this. She still had tons of people to stalk after this battle was done! With maniacal laughter, the young woman reduced the female lycan opposite her, who still suffered from the petrifaction from Lunette's voice, into several pieces. Licking the blood off her blade, the young woman's eyes sparkled as she rushed toward her next prey.
Mithre smiled as Jade rose to her feet, electricity sparking in the latter's eyes. Their bodies overflowed with mana, pumped by the mana boost from the songstress' wish. The two shared a look, and then the young man dashed forward even as the merrites began to break free from the petrification.
Tens of electric arcs flanked the warrior as he charged. The merrites, who initially looked down on the attack, instantly regretted their arrogance as the shock set the closest ablaze.
Many had forgotten, but Jade used green lightning, the second-tier evolution of the standard blue lightning. The only reason she relegated herself to a stun gun earlier was to conserve mana since she doubled as both healer and vanguard.
However, with the mana boost and regen from Lunette's song, the mage was free to unleash her full potential.
Several corpses suddenly flew overhead, landing within the archers' ranks. Before anyone could react, the corpses exploded, shredding all unfortunate enough to be close to pieces. Mad laughter erupted as a winged demon took to the skies, craze-filled gaze scorching all within vision like the sun itself had descended upon the battlefield.
Syèl, who had since been penned down by the ranged missiles, took advantage of the lull to decimate the pests annoying him. And now... Now he was finally in play.
The most remarkable reversal of all time began as the vampire zipped into the opposing army, magic missiles carpet-bombing the helpless merrites to oblivion. Syèl, whose battery would never run low in a battleground flowing with blood, screamed with laughter as he dropped onto the earth and charged forward.
The vampire wrapped himself with his wings to deflect oncoming magic barrages. "Lune-chan's got the right idea," Syèl screamed with laughter as he directly bypassed the infantry and dropped into the mages' ranks. "Accept my love!"
Blood burst from the vampire's arms and instantly spread within the mages' ranks in the form of dense mist. The vampire quickly took to the skies once again as the mages who breathed in his blood instantly went mad and began attacking their companions with reckless abandon.
The blood mage hovered several feet above as he scanned the battlefield. Syèl grinned as he spotted Orthana, whose brows were furrowed with rage, eyes glaring at him with pure hatred. Three portals above her head suddenly expanded in size and out rushed dozens of wyverns, each the size of a horse. Syèl's eyes went wide with excitement as a single dagger stabbed into the head of the wyvern at the forefront.
"Gravinode." Absalon's voice echoed.
The wyvern shrieked in pain as every cell in its body rushed toward the dagger. The wyverns around it issued similar shrieks as they too were forcefully pulled to the dagger by its aggressive gravitational field.
Syèl's wings flapped as he tore through the center of the trapped wyverns. Menacing winds ripped through the wyverns, imitating the daeben's signature Drill attack. Streams of blood gushed toward the vampire, fusing to form a blood dragon that wreaked absolute havoc on the surroundings.
Elsewhere, Shoko heavily breathed as she squared off against a confused Olgar Ritz. The lycan could not understand how the hell this swordswoman or her blade held up for so long against his bones. Because of her, he had not been able to strike the finishing blow against the coalition.
Then, suddenly, this voice erupted from nowhere, instantly shifting the battlefield's paradigm once again.
"How..." Olgar questioned, eyes wide with shock. "Where is this voice coming from!?"
"Who knows?" Shoko mocked with a grin. Her breath steadied as she crouched low. "It's been over two hours." Dense ki exploded from her body before centering upon the sword at her hip. "Let's finish this."
"Think I'll let you!?" Olgar roared as he rushed at the swordswoman.
Shoko did not pay the lycan any heed as she ordered, "Go." A clone jumped out from the crouched body and interrupted the wolf's charge. Unfortunately, it could only hold the lycan for a couple dozen seconds before being impaled by Olgar.
"You will DIE!" The lycan roared with rage as he slammed the body onto the earth and resumed his charge.
Once again, the swordswoman only muttered, "Go."
And once again, the lycan was stopped in his tracks by the clone. This time, he was held for two whole minutes. A shrill cry issued by Shoko's blade forced the lycan to explode with rage. He wrapped the clone in a bear hug. Bone spurs shot out from his body, burying itself within the clone. He tossed the fading corpse and charged at the swordswoman, entire body filled with spurs over fifty centimeters in length."You will DIE!"
Shoko's eyes remained closed, blade slowly leaving its sheath as Lunette's song drew to a close. "No," the swordswoman muttered, golden hair freely fluttering in the wind as her sword seemingly swung very slowly in an upwards curve.
There were no shockwaves, no pillar of lights, or mana blades as the swordswoman stood tall and walked towards the rushing lycan.
Shoko's blade slowly slid back into its sheath as Olgar's spur reached the swordswoman's forehead. "Shoko Style Eleventh Form..."
"I-impossible," Olgar murmured with shock as he halted in his steps, a red line forming from the top of his head down to between his legs.
Kacha.
Shoko walked past, guard clicking against the hilt. "... [I Will Survive]"
Blood gushed like a fountain as the great warlord of the north split into two halves. The split corpse dropped to the ground, signaling the beginning of the inevitable end.