The world stretched and compressed as we were kneaded through subspace layers. Or so Gwen liked to explain to those willing to listen. Hearing about it and experiencing it, however, was so very different.

Gwen’s explanation was summarized that you entered a quantum quark and synced with its superimposed position somewhere else. Which was as logical an explanation for magic as anything I had ever heard.

The crude jokes of going through the universe’s butt-hole were vilified. The 42 of us were squeezed out of whatever fantastic metaphysical place and back to base reality. We took a few moments to steady our breathing.

Gwen leaned into me as she had most likely overdrawn her energy to compensate. I held her close and I stared into her eyes. She gave me a weak smile as she leaned her head against mine and concentrated on her breathing.

My relief of returning to the world was crushed by the sheer blackened ruins that greeted us. We all gasped at the sheer destruction of what was our family’s camp. It was worse than I had hoped. I didn’t see anyone alive other than us.

We had left this camp with high hopes. The various helpers and other brothers and sisters who specialized in support were very experienced. They had decades of knowledge and had streamlined our lives into a cute pattern.

Go to a problematic area. Set up camp. Solve the problem. Pack up to move to a new area.

This, however… Shelly’s wagon was only identifiable by the fact that her boar pot was still somewhat recognizable. Half of it had melted away, but the bottom half was unique. The pot had piggy feet which helped it sit directly over campfires.

Sadly, I didn’t see Shelly nearby. She would have been heartbroken to know that her husband, Richard, had been among the first casualties of our fight with Balthazar. If my beliefs were true… then they were together in the afterlife.

My chest clenched as I realized I would most likely never hear her warm greetings again. Of her accented drawl as she fussed over our health. I would never see Richard make her blush as he gushed about his wife.

We will always remember them. Due to the blessings of the Akashic Systems, my memory would remain strong. Mental degradation was halted to prevent Akajinns from going crazy due to old age.

We Akajinn simply did not age like regular people. We would remain in our prime for our entire lives. There was supposed to be an age limit, whatever that was. Then we would just dissipate into death.

“We should run,” one of my companions said. A murmur sprang up as we faced our two choices. Stay or flee.

I looked over at the speaker. Of course, it was one of the five. I looked back to gather my thoughts.

The camp was razed. Most of the wagons and stalls were gone. Only blast holes were present. Some sort of bombarding skill. Magic based probably as the air was unusually dense with various types of energy.

The only surviving thing was the Red Wagon. The flame-colored wagon that was about twice the size of any regular wagon. The artifact vehicle was built tough, as it was designed to withstand small scale sieges.

Legion Master Julian Asgarr was gifted it by the Northern Dwarf Kingdom. It was in payment for saving their lands from a serious case of goblin infestations. It became our symbol of leadership and the storehouse for all of our treasures.

“Secure the Red Wagon,” I ordered as Gwen took a deep breath and nodded. She would be needed to drive the Red Wagon. We must not leave it behind. It was undoubtedly one of the Alliance’s goals to get their grubby hands on it.

“Everyone else, let volunteers know that we will need a ride out after we secure the front lines,” I ordered, but the others stared at me. I stared back as they did nothing.

Right. It was the War Novice. Legendary joke Hero that was stuck in the Novice class. Technically I was a Novice Superior, but that didn’t mean anything to them.

All they knew and cared to remember was that I was forever in the initial starting class. In the realm before deeper and stronger specialization kicked it. I snorted as I stared at them. No respect from these brats.

Gwen smiled as she shifted and summoned her item box. From it she pulled something that made all of us stand straighter. The Legion Master’s Sigil. Something that we had learned to respect across the decades of service.

It was a palm-sized diamond disc. Within that disc were three vertical slashes made of emerald, ruby, and sapphire. They represented the mind, the body, and the soul. It was us, broken into the categories set forth by the Akashic System.

I smiled and nodded at her. She was now Legion Master and thus commanded all of us. What she decided was as good as law. She was probably the strongest Sorceress now that we had leveled from Balthasar’s defeat.

Gwen’s smile deepened as she handed it to me. Her violet eyes sparkled as she placed it into my shaking hands. I had often joked with her that I would one day be Legion Master. It wasn’t serious as I didn’t desire the work that came with the title.

Long hours, endless bickering, and the responsibility of a thousand sitting on your shoulders. I shuddered. Over eighty years I had adventured. Which meant a lot of groups, mostly with Akajinns as we tended to live longer and the blessings were stronger.

The natives were not weak people, yet they would be spared the horrors of being an Akajinn. A pristine body that was fated to die in battle.

I stared at the sigil in my hand. Its weight went beyond its physical materials and mystic runes. It was the legacy of our history. The blood, sweat, and tears of every hero that served under its banner.

The others were staring at me. Even the five. This sigil meant something. Represented something.

“This is my first, and last orders as Legion Master of the Heroic Legion. Save those who you can, and disperse. Live your lives as you see fit,” I ordered them as I looked at each of them in the eye. “Also, don’t forget about the volunteer wagons. The survivors will need a way out.”

I stared at them. We had worked so hard for this day, and yet I was going to allow it to crumble in my hands. The distant sound of metal clashing was barely audible.

I looked towards that battle line where I could see Akajinn limp away from. Where I was about to head to, and it was a death sentence.

I looked at my companions. I recognized no one. Only Gwen had survived from my squad, and these were only welcome strangers. Except those five. Screw them. I saluted them.

They straightened and saluted me back. There was solace in having a chain of command. A shortened chain but I knew what our ultimate end was. We either died fighting or flee into the wilderness.

“Gwen, return everyone’s belongings and then leave. It will be the focal point for them, and they will have to send pursuers. We divert their attention,” I looked at my oldest friend here. The one I always would depend on.

Gwen met my gaze and held it. For a moment the world faded and she gave me a sad smile. I walked over to hug her and she gave me a tight squeeze in return. I thought this was the last test for us, but it seems fate had other ideas.

We had appeared in the same wave of summons. I had fully expected to die long before she did. Yet we had pulled through. This was just another obstacle.

“We made it this far, and we will make it further together,” she whispered and let go of my back. “Stay safe Felix.”

“Together,” I nodded and turned around. My tattered mantle fluttered and now my neck sported my new rank. The Legion Master’s Emblem glittered in the fluttering torch lights.

I touched the Legion Master’s Emblem. One of its enchantments was Grand Voice. The ability to utilize a megaphone effect across a great area.

[All Heroes listen! The Alliance has betrayed us. Shore up the battle lines and show them why we Akajinn are both respected and feared! For everyone else, gather up what you can and leave! Let us carve our worth from their flesh!]

I strode forward as I accessed the weapon rack. The Akashic System provided gear storage.

In my right hand was my second favorite sword, Blood Reaver. My Aria’s Sword was shattered in the last fight.

In my left hand was my second favorite dagger, Purple Talon. My Shimmering Dagger was also shattered in the last fight.

My walk forward was not ignored. Fellow heroes gathered beside me as I walked towards the front lines. Remnants of what I assumed with the other legions. I kept my face neutral as I did a rough headcount. Of the 10, 000 Akajinns here, we had lost roughly a fifth to siege the palace.

Then we lost another fifth fighting Demon Lord Balthasar… Did this mean that the Alliance had stuck soon after the elites had entered the palace?

This was time-sensitive. The Venerated Knight Force was probably rushing out of the castle right now. The main goal was to get the battle lines to retreat. They were all probably on their last legs as our crusade struggled to survive.

If we took too long then an elite subjugation force would be at our rear. Which meant sad times for everyone involved. If we were too quick, then we would risk losing everyone. We needed a balance where we could move back and force them to hesitate to pursue us.

Which meant raw force and that was something all Akajinns good at. With a grim mindset, I began to walk towards the battle lines. It was close enough to hear, which meant I could simply walk.

The front lines were less chaotic than I had expected. My guess was probably correct. They had been fighting us four almost a full day. Their numbers were greater, but our soldiers looked grim and focused. Akajinns were ready to exchange their lives for a high body count.

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

I watched as some fled. I did not judge them harshly. This was a bad situation and they were conflicted by the knowledge that the soldiers were just people doing their jobs. Then again, it wasn’t as if we would just roll over and die either.

I made my way past the weary men and women. They were not quite shouldered to shoulder, what with the lines so broken and scattered. Yet there was still a line.

I face the first alliance soldier that met my gaze. With a single motion, I threw my dagger. The thief skill Throw Dagger had a homing effect at max rank. Which allowed me to zone in on the man’s eyes. The artifact sailed through the air and sank into the man’s head.

I doubt he knew how he even died. With a thought, my Retrieve Dagger skill had Blue Talon flying back into my hands. At max rank, the skill had no range limitation, but rather a line of sight and energy consumption.

My friends called it my Yo-Yo skill as the two allowed me to kill and stab from afar. It was easy to use as I threw it freely while getting closer to use my sword. The mage class skills involved energy pool enhancements and energy recovery. Which made my Yo-Yo skill very cheap to use.

Technically I could throw my sword as well, but the energy consumption was crazy. Which left it for either flashy finishes, or desperate yeets at whatever I was fighting.

A knight in heavy armor rushed me. I summoned the dagger back to my left hand and timed my Sword Slash to strike the man’s knees. The most basic sword technique separated his leg in two and a quick Dagger Stab into the visor ended the fight.

“KILL!” came the collected war-cry from my reinvigorated heroes and they rushed forward to join the fray. I hid my exhaustion the best I could and did my best to efficiently fight. My anger bubbled beneath my every word, my every action.

How are they! We who were pulled to this world to be used as tools. To be discarded when no longer desired. We were not simple to ignore.

I walked towards my next victim. The group of soldiers paled and hesitation gripped at their hearts and minds. I did not spare any mercy as my sword skills and the Yo-Yo skill, I cleared up the Alliance soldiers in this area. A ripple of moral spread across the line as my presence was felt. The sheer cheer and hope spread like wildfire.

[Form the line. Standard battle formation! We will begin a slow retreat to cover the helpers. Remember, We live as one, and We die as one!] I screamed out and the heroes closest roared in response.

The old motto of the legions was echoed across the line. Akajinn's hearts and minds stabilized. The hopeless fear loosened its shadow on everyone, and the Alliance advance slowed to a crawl.

—

Cardinal Alshera Grayson frowned as she oversaw the battlefield. The scattered front lines were predicted.

The Akajinn were strong. They were blessed by the almighty Akashic itself. They were granted powers that defied human limits.

Superhuman or not, they were still mortal.

The calculated strike should have had them fleeing right about now. They however seemed to be bolstering the front lines. Which meant that her most favored servant had failed.

Rita had somehow let the first legion survivors escape.

Alshera smiled and let out a bitter chuckle as her trusted guards watched the battle with mixed emotions. The Alliance had agreed with this, and from here their new era of peace would start.

The Akajinn were not true believers. Many carried over false faith and false prophets. Which were starting to take root in the rural areas of each nation.

The rewards would have also bankrupted the smaller nations and who knew how cruel the civil wars would have become with Akajinns carving out new territories.

A golden flicker caught her eye. Was that the emblem the church had given out?

Alshera raised her hand and concentrated. Clairvoyance an image formed in her mind. The wearer was that novel Akajinn. The War Novice. The broken title that had been so powerful initially yet quickly became irrelevant as the Akashic System granted class advancements.

Did that mean that dear Julian Asgarr finally died as the pathetic dog he was? Now all that could take his place was some third-tier hero?

Then again, it was this third tier who was currently focusing on the false believers. Their initial strike had confusion and speed on their side. A tide of angry mutts striking to the rear of these mongrels. Now it was a spent beast, leaving only devout soldiers in its place.

Devout soldiers that had an average of level 50. Well trained soldiers, but nowhere near as powerful as the Heroic Legion. Their average was then times more powerful.

Her eyes spied that crimson eyesore leaving the camp and out into the desolate wild-lands of this demon-infested kingdom. It was a land full of rocks, valueless crystals, and barren plains. How disgusting.

“Have General Norman round-up that Red Wagon. It has secrets that the Church would compensate very well for,” Alshera said as she looked at one of her bishops. The woman bowed and left to relay her message.

“Begin another bombardment. Focus half of the strikes on the Legion Master of the Heroic legion,” Alshera ordered as she walked back into her cushioned chair. Her litter was currently open to allow her to stretch her legs and to air out the luxury box.

“As you order, Cardinal,” Archbishop Greggory Grayson bowed to his aunt and moved over to his Divine Punishment Order. They were the chosen ones as they had passed through grueling tests to achieve their current ranks.

Two thousand mage-priests stood ready. They were sweaty and haggard as the magical power for mass bombardment required squads of mages or priests. The Divine Punishment Order studied both branches and were highly prized for their power on the battlefield.

Greggory wished he had more time to rest, but what the Cardinal requested, the Cardinal received.

—

I felt a tickle. My official title of Novice Superior allowed me to train in all five basic classes. Acolyte Archer, Mage, Swordsman, and Thief. Though I never got another advancement and my limits had been tapped out.

It was my acolyte and mage senses yelling at me. I looked around. Nothing. Dying men. Screaming men. Fighting men.

I looked up. My butthole clenched as I saw the telltale sparkle of holy magic. A lot of holy magic. There was regular magic mixed in as well.

[We are under attack. All soldiers Charge! Like the great hero of ancient times, SPOON!] I screamed and charged forwards.

The heroes around me immediately followed. My sheer presence and power had them loyal on this battlefield. Even rushing into the maws of the enemies didn’t stop most of them.

A buzzing & whistling sound filled the air. The original survivors of the bombardments felt every hair on their body stand up.

Some froze. Some ran. Most charged with me.

[Boom!] [Boom!] [Boom!]

Masses of magic slammed into us. They fell from the skies like a judgmental god. Hence its name of Holy Judgment. Explosions rocked the front lines as they fell in the rough precision of Akajinn forces.

For those that targeted individuals, the Alliance soldiers had a rude awakening as they were also caught up in the blasts.

The heroes that froze or ran away, most vanished under the onslaught of Holy Judgment.

My superior stats allowed me to leap into the fray. I had moved deeper and through an odd combination of several dead bodies weighing me down, and other soldiers trying to dogpile me while skewering me with their spears… I died.

A bright flash of light fell onto me. It annihilated the soldiers around me and scattered the rest. My fellow heroes were on the fringes of the blast, forcing them to fall back as everyone was shocked by the surprising placement of the strike.

My favorite skill, False Death, was unique as it triggered if I was ever hit with any death-inducing attack. My false body was vaporized and I took the time to move deeper.

My ethereal form would fade in seconds after I moved, but I figured I could simply slash my way out of their deep formations. I could sew chaos and death without worry as I began the retreat…

[Boom!]

A Holy Judgment strike hit before I fully returned to base reality. The odd joke skill False Death worked as another squad of soldiers were killed.

I frowned and immediately ran into the scrambling crowd of soldiers. Their once-proud lines were now breaking under the destructive, and impartial Holy Judgment attacks.

[Boom!]

My suspicions were confirmed as a third strike hit a group of panicking archers and mages. Their panic increased I continued with my sword and dagger combo attacks. I used my sad, and poor performance Heal skill to mend my body as I moved around.

[Boom!]

I rarely stayed still as I moved from group to group. The front lines were collapsing now.

[All heroes regroup and retreat! There should be wagons in the back waiting for us. Retreat and disappear. The demon lord is now dead and we are free to live!] I held my medal and screamed out.

My False Death cool-down was almost done. Then I could risk another deep charge.

[Bam!] [Bam!] [Bam!] [Bam!]

The world exploded around me. Fireballs rained down onto my position and I grimaced. I could see my HP slowly whittle away.

My strongest card was a friendly fire. The screams of those Alliance soldiers to close proved that they no longer cared.

Right! I was also a mage class!

I stored my weapon into my [Weapon Rack] and concentrated as I leaped back towards wagons. Towards freedom.

[Bam!] [Bam!] [Bam!] [Bam!]

I launched a fireball with every thrust of my palm. My higher stats allowed me to leap like an elf and my mana pool sustained my outrageous attack plan.

I felt like a DBZ character as I quickly thrust my palms in every direction. Fireballs rained from my hands and the screams of soldiers filled my wake.

My assault paused as I jumped up to a crude watchtower. The battle lines made me choke. Most of the Akajinn had already fled to safety. Their high levels and stats allowed them to reach the small line of wagons in the rear.

As for the stragglers… I looked left and then right. There was more on the left side and made my move.

Like a vengeful alien prince, I launched fireballs as I found any entangled pockets of my fellow heroes.

I staggered as I landed. A woman wrapped her arm around me and help me move.

What? What happened? Oh. Oh! That's how I was still alive.

I took a look at my status window and sighed. 8% HP, and 0.12% EP. I was digging into my HP from excessive energy use.

Exhaustion had finally caught up to me. The only reason I had any chance was the fact that I was massively over-leveled for this battlefield.

Hero: Felix Class: Novice Superior Level: Max 1000

Wasn’t I just in the high 600s earlier? Was it the Demon Lord and the Novice’s EXP bonus? Didn’t Gwen and the others talk about the linear level growth that I was entitled to? Was this my final form? Did I have to give up my DBZ jokes?

“There are wagons back here, right?” the woman asked as another person linked their arm up with her. I was now supported by two people and we were making excellent time.

“Only volunteers. Risk of death too high,” I chocked out as I felt fatigued and that feeling settled througout my body. Turns out that running out of adrenaline was a tactically poor choice.

Then again, this was like what? My third wind of the night? I had been fighting for hours now considering we started the siege at dawn. Dawn today? Yesterday?

Everything was kinda fuzzy.

Our new party picked up the pace as indeed, there were still wagons here.

“Halt!” a familiar voice cried out. A voice that didn’t make me happy. In fact, it made me uneasy.

We looked over and I could feel the two tense as Rita Redhawk stopped beside the closest wagon. Her sword was drawn and her face was a thundercloud of emotion.

“You guys get on and go,” I ordered as I straightened myself out. I had regained a bit of my breath, and some 2% of health and energy.

[Everyone goes, I will deal with Rita Redhawk] I ordered as I grabbed Blood Reaver and Blue Talon.

“Hello Rita, long time no se-urk!” I tried to taunt, but she used her Templar Zealot Rush to slam into me.

The ground gave way under my feet as she pushed me back. Her strength was higher than mine, but not enough to knock me over.

“Gah!” she replied as she activated Zealot Rush again. The sounds of combat came from the wagons and a fire started.

[Everyone go! We have done all we can!] I screamed as I threw my dagger towards her eyes and slashed at her sword. Funny enough, the jagged red weapon looked more like a Blood Reaver than mine did. I looked like a simple sword with a maroon handle.

Its deceptive looks however made Rita snarl. She was used to breaking her opponents down with quick rushes and heavy blows.

She scrambled to deal with me, however. Despite her superior melee class, I was far from helpless. My low energy prevented skill abuse, but I had lots of low-level skills. Magic Missile and Dagger Throws kept her on her toes as I tried to lock down her sword with Sword Slash and Sword Stab.

The simple skills were effective as they wagons left. At least those that could flee did. There were no more sounds of combat and the Venerated Knight Force stood in a circle to prevent me from fleeing.

“You may be the last one standing, but I will drag you before Akashic to be judged!” Rita swore as she used Heavy Slash to knock me around. My defenses failed and she began to cut into my body.

It hurt, but at the same time, I couldn't help but laugh. This entire battle was a joke, and our adventure a comedy.

“You forgot about one thing Rita!” I said as I backed away and smiled at her. I put away my weapons as I gave her the middle finger. My final act of defiance.

The well-known gesture from Akajinns enraged her and she slashed at my legs.

I died.

Or precisely False Death gave her a body, and I triggered my Homestone recall built into my Legion’s Insignia. It indicated my rank, and I could use it to teleport to the anchor. Sadly only the first two Legions had this ability.

Usually, energy would be drained to move the physical body to another location. A problem I didn’t have as an ethereal being was nearly weightless while I was waiting to return to base reality.

Rita was ranting and crowing about my fate as I was silently whisked away. I wish I could see her face when my False Body faded.

Then again, I had a much prettier face to return to.

————

Chapter 02: Pyrrhic Victory