The preparation for the horde was similar to before but far more organised. The entire township drew itself into a bustle of action with mass movement occurring between sides on which the portals spawned. Since Riverside now had over 3000 citizens, there were three portals with about 1000 combatants in total to face them off. Thankfully, they had yet to pass the 12000 citizens mark for the portals to shift to their second stage, which meant they faced easier opponents instead of more challenging ones.
Silas led one of the three fronts, securing it with Josh, Mia, Iris and three hundred others. In truth, though, his job was simply to fight and provide morale with his presence as the defence construction and army structure was organised through Elise’s orders. They had a giant encirclement built around the portal with hastily erected wooden barricades. There were raised platforms for archers, gunmen, and mages to fire down from, and periodic gaps in the walls for the monsters to funnel out through. When they did so, they would fall into the midst of waiting warriors eager to chop at them.
Olivia and Ethan had also asked to join them, and it was only with considerable reluctance that Silas allowed them, even then forcing them to promise to stay right beside him. Although the danger was great, the hordes were the best way of levelling up, and besides, since the hordes were getting progressively worse, it only made sense to get them combat experience now as opposed to later. He figured it should all be fine as long as he kept a watchful eye on them.
Bandit too swooped down when the hour came upon them. In all, Silas wasn’t as much worried as he was eager to get the ordeal done with. He felt a rush of excitement tingle through his fingers and toes when he saw the monsters finally wash out of the giant portals in waves of twenty. They were saber-toothed cats sporting rich orange coats dotted with black specks and curved ivory teeth which came down to their chests. As large as tigers and likely just as fast, they dashed out of the portals, following their bloodlust to their deaths as they were unceremoniously gunned down.
However, only so many waves could go down before the guns overheated, archers ran out of arrows, and mages drained themselves of mana. By this point, rising mounds of corpses littered the inner stadium, but the coming sabertooths toppled over these hills of flesh and bone as they charged to the outer ring. However, against expectations, they didn’t go for the intended gaps, instead clawing up the walls with impressive agility and attempting to maul the ranged attackers to death. Fortunately, the ranged attackers were armed for such scenarios, although understaffed all the same, so Silas ordered an advance in position before any more sabertooths clambered up and overwhelmed those there.
The ultraviolence that followed was typical of horde attacks as man fought beast on every side, blood spilling either way. It wasn’t long before the first wave ended and the second wave echoed its predecessor. This time, there were also sabertooths donning makeshift armour, and Silas focused on them, committing to a similar tactic to the one he had followed in New Derby. There was only a brief respite between the second and third waves, and as usual, the difficulty in dealing with horde was primarily one of perseverance.
Many of Riverside’s forces dropped out at this point as they retreated with limbs wrought with iron links, weighing down their every movement and constricting their lungs. Only the experienced warriors who had paced themselves stayed put to hold the front now, and Silas let himself go wild after he saw Ethan and Olivia had safely retreated. Not even an hour had passed since the start of the horde when it ended, and the humans, shaerds, and Order troops shouted in both relief and victory.
The hours that came after were just as hectic as the ones before as the injured were rushed to the on-field hospitals and corpses were shovelled back into the portals for easy disposal. One of the benefits of being influential was that Silas didn’t have to help with any of this cumbersome work, so he returned home with the others after getting healed, allowing him slow and uneventful after hours while he recuperated.
Once he was back at his peak, he went alone to the Order’s quarters, intending to speak with Ish about manastone. When he asked around, no one knew where the Shade had gotten to, but as expected, Ish heard of the calls and found Silas by himself not long after. The five-foot ryfin looked exactly as before, donning a dark featureless mask and armour, with a thick cloak billowing behind him. His figure was pointed by his exoskeleton, and his aura was deliberately muffled to hide his presence.
“Hey, took you some time,” Silas greeted.
The ryfin shrugged as he beckoned the human to follow him to more comfortable quarters. “I had business to attend to, as I imagine a man of your status can understand. Riverside’s been buzzing noisily with speak of your return and your ascension as a ranker, you know.”
The Duellist chuckled politely. “Well, don’t mark yourself off just yet since this will be more business talk.”
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
“I had assumed as much,” Ish said, opening the door into a small, cosy room. He proficiently checked the walls and windows before he sat down with Silas. “When you’re ready.”
Silas gathered his thoughts and recalled the plan he had prepared for this meeting: he wanted to show interest but not so much as to display desperation. “Well, when I came back, I learnt that the quarry had been taken and that they were mining manastone from there. Since then, you know they’ve made some progress into its uses, but I was just thinking back to my brief time in Lyfort. Remember, you were driving the pill bug car, and you said it was fuelled by manastone.”
Ish dipped his head in admission. “Sure, we use manastone as a fuel source.”
“Is it something from your home planet then?”
“That’s right: there were certain places chock full of it, and a lot of fighting happened over those sites as well.”
“So you know a lot about it, don’t you? About its various uses and so on?” Silas asked, going in for the bite.
“You could say so,” Ish replied coolly, “But we already had a deal with your mayor; we’ve shared some of our research with Riverside in exchange for manastone ore.”
“And what will more information cost? Particularly about manastone weapons?”
The ryfin laughed at this, his chest heaving up and down, although his laughter lacked ridicule. “That is both pricy information and useless information. While I’m sure a deal could be sorted, I’ll mention right away that you’ll be disappointed by what you get.”
Silas cocked an eyebrow and waited for Ish to continue, which he did after a moment.
“It is a remarkably difficult process with very exact procedures needed, otherwise you’ll either get a weapon with manastone that isn’t integrated or it’ll just explode during the smelting process, as I heard one of your own learnt first-hand. But if you truly want our information, I can contact Kore about it and see whether we can sate your hunger.” Unbeknownst to Silas, the ryfin was grinning widely under his mask, maintaining a level voice only so that he appeared calm and unbothered. This was their chance to lure a human ranker into their hands and have him work for them, all for information which would lead to nothing, anyway.
“Brilliant,” Silas said, feeling all too pleased with himself. He wasn’t naive enough to think the Order would give him exactly what he wanted; rather, it was in their benefit to provide incomplete or deliberately misleading information so that they maintained their lead over Riverside, while also siphoning resources from them. Regardless, he hoped human ingenuity would blossom once they had a direction to tread down in regards to manastone. “When can I get a response then?”
“It’ll be a few hours, so I would recommend you return tomorrow.”
****
The swamp bubbled and popped around Foltrus, the murky water warm and pleasant against his bare legs. They were as thick as the trunks of trees and as tough as iron, his tempered thews allowing him to amble through the weeds which stubbornly tried to tangle him up. Monsters occasionally drifted near enough to gander at him, but they scurried away the second his fierce gaze turned to them. Standing at eleven-feet and wrought with bulging muscles, he was not an ogre many dared to try, and his blazing aura frightened away even those brave few.
Foltrus was as hairless as any other ogre, and it helped in this climate as his slick skin didn’t become matted and soggy in the humid air. In his right hand, he loosely held a morning star as long as his arm, its end thickening into a mass of glowing blue spikes. It dug a trail through the bottom of the swamp floor, dragging a dirt stream behind it. On his grey skin, there were bright yellow tattoos which he had earned on becoming Foltrus’s Avatar; it was tradition for the Avatars to take on their respective colours and exhibit it as proudly as Tyr displayed itself in all its splendour.
Today, he was hunting a truly fearsome beast in Tyr’s name, one which he had first caught scent of the week before. Its path had been a grisly trail to follow, but the horrors Foltrus saw on the way had only excited him further, knowing this would be a worthy sacrifice. Sniffing at the air once more, he smelled it was close and raised his morning star, the weapon sloshing noisily as it broke the murky water’s surface.
Foltrus waited in anticipation for an ambush that never came, so he tasted the air instead after a dozen thumping heartbeats, praying his prey wouldn’t run with its tail between its legs too: a chase was fun, sure, but not at all worthy of being a dignified sacrifice. After a long moment, he closed in on it further, tense and ready to spring as he pulled apart a grove of thin trees with his free hand. Their trunks snapped under his weight and revealed to him what he had dreamed of for days now, only it currently lay in a form unbefitting their battle.
It was curled up on itself, lying on a small dry island with its head thrown back in the midst of deep sleep. Its snores were coarse and rumbling, apt for a beast of its size. Its back, which faced him, was spiked all over with cruel barbs. Foltrus wished he could see more - he desired so badly to gaze at this abomination and marvel at its vile deformities - but he could hardly control his battle lust long enough for a lengthy ogle. So, he instead whacked his morning star into the swamp and let the wet crash wake his prey.
To his surprise, it didn’t pounce up and regard him warily, not at all, as instead it only slightly roused, shaking its head in confusion. He feared it was about to return to sleep when it finally stretched its broad limbs, its arms red and splotched with sickly green, their ends filed with black claws the size of its head. Rolling over, it regarded him for a long moment, its large nostrils swelling and shrinking with deep breaths. By the end, he was beginning to question its intelligence or whether it had become frozen with fear when suddenly it lifted itself from the ground.
As before, it did so with a collected coolness, clawing inside its maw to scratch out a scrap stuck between its menacing fangs. It stared at him and licked its lips, eyeing him with primal hunger.
“You’re late,” Dahlia, the Abomination said, “This delivery better be free; I sure as hell ain’t paying for your tardiness, boy.”