Linus Level 62 Bastion of the Empire, Commander
'Blinded Justice, That was one Pit of an Ability!' The Commander mentally cursed, all the while watching for the outside environment to clear.
The human had come through. At first, he humored the plan because it required little to no change to their assignment. They were to create an irresistible opening for the horde so that they wouldn’t swamp the wall and the city. Then hold them there as long as possible. They were to be a shield that delayed and drew out the enemy.
These orders had come from the emperor himself, and Linus still held out hope that the notoriously slippery patriarch had one or two tricks up his sleeve. He had not hesitated to lead his men to this duty, and they had followed, one and all. Even the Marcellus boy hadn’t balked at the one-way mission. They had all known what it meant when they took the vows. Access to the empire's most coveted class, but bound to a sacred and strict code. Every soldier here had long since left any other life behind.
When the human had come, claiming he could make a significant dent in the enemy's numbers, it had taken Linus all of two seconds to decide to risk committing a small amount of resources for a possibly huge payout in extended time for their operation. Fewer enemies meant less pressure on the line, which in turn would buy them a few more minutes. He had repurposed Gorock, who wasn't much for line fighting anyway, and then thrown the Marcellus in on the scheme because if that brat wasn't given something to play with, he always became trouble. Subcommander or not.
They had of course forced him to remaneuver from the most favorable ground, but at that point, it had not mattered, all of their careful planning about to be demolished by the newly formed Colossus.
So he had chosen to advance the formation and protect the human, as he finished whatever endgame casting scheme he had been gifted by the emperor. After a minute of vicious fighting on the line, he was ready and Gorock had thrown him right into the pathway of the approaching Colossus. Linus watched with a critical eye, judging if he would have to leave the men and fight this creature himself using a final trump card. Yet his eyes widened in surprise as the ability unfolded into an absolutely devastating attack.
It.
Was.
Glorious.
Not only had the human's flames proven to be extremely effective against this type of combatant, but they had somehow been multiplied to the third tier of power. They seemed to emerge endlessly from an angry Sapphire sun. The Marcellus yelled over to him, and just as he realized that the flames risked expanding over the whole battlefield.
"Commander!"
“I see it. Bastions, PROTECT!” He Commanded pulling on the dregs of the unit reserves to activate one of the most famous of the phalanxes formations. One augmented by layers of magical and physical protections.
With his Battle Sight Linus saw the endless horde of creatures turned into a smoldering field of charred remains in a matter of moments. Then the epicenter of the flaming attack flickered out and he noted the human falling from his position in the sky above the battlefield. He had not been able to hold onto consciousness through the experience and hit the ground like a rag doll. Linus examined him more carefully with Battle Sight and confirmed that the human was still alive. Linus wasn't about to lose a possible strategic resource like that!
“Formation BREAK! Gorock, Threstus, Retrieve our human! I don't care if he is in pieces, I want every one of them back in the middle of this formation NOW.” He Commanded. The formation lost its supernatural composure, and exhausted men stumbled and fell where they stood, far past the point of exhaustion. The line was never meant to hold in such conditions, and he had been forced to burn through every bit of their reserves to survive this long.
“On it Sir!” Replied Threstus as he and Gorock sprinted from the line through the field of still-smoldering corpses.
As they made their way through, Linus’ Battle Sight drew his attention towards some sort of haze flowing back to the enemy's lines. He watched as even the smoke from the flame was drawn by an invisible stream of energy toward the Cult's forces.
He frowned as he realized another ace had been revealed. The Scale-bellies were using this battle and its deaths for a large-scale ritual of some kind. His eyes narrowed in consideration.
Gods he hated blood magic. He would take an honest Fireball any day of the week over that vile form of power. It asked a steep price and its practitioners were always looking for new customers to pay.
Now that he was looking for it, he could see trails of black-and-red blood weaving through the sea of corpses back towards the Naga front lines.
He was no wizard, but he would bet his pension that whatever they were doing with the blood of tens of thousands of creatures would not be good for the city or its citizens…
“Rom. Get over here.” He called to the youngest surviving member of the unit.
“Sir!” He replied after stumbling over to Linus' position, covered in viscera and gore. The young, but impressive, soldier looked like he had nothing left to give, and swayed on his hooves before his commanding officer. He looked exactly like Linus felt, not that he would ever show it to the men. Bastions were always ready to serve and they did their best work when all others gave up and quit.
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“You look a little tired soldier, should I give this assignment to someone else?” Linus barked, loud enough for the others to hear.
“No Sir!” He said straightening, there was a fire of defiance in his eyes as several of the older members snickered nearby.
“Good man! I need a runner. Find Lord Hiro at the Hub and let him know that the Naga are probably summoning their God. There is an Epic-Ranked ritual underway, and without a significant counter, our delay tactics will be for naught.”
“It would be my pleasure, Sir! I'll get it done and head back to continue the fight immediately!” He shouted, now ramrod straight.
“Dismissed! Oh and Rom, more than a thousand made it through, but do not engage with the Corrupted! I need this message there ASAP. Am I clear? Aside from the Subcommander, you have the highest Dexterity in the unit, and I expect you to use it!”
“Sir, Yes Sir!” He replied, saluting and then jogging through the men, back toward the gates.
“What's the new plan, Sir?” One of the men called, slouched over his shield. Linus noted with some satisfaction, that even now, the man held a good grip on his gladius.
“Well men, we are going to double time back to the refugee front. We will destroy any of the creatures we come across en route and reconvene with the rest of our forces facilitating the evacuation of the city. Our delay tactic here was a success-” He paused, making sure to make eye contact with the 46 soldiers left alive after the brutal fighting.
“Good job men. When people whisper the name Bastion in hushed honor, you will be the one they think of. I have never been more proud to call myself one of your own.” He finished gravely, a glint of fierce pride showing in his eyes.
The men each stood to attention, each finding a way through injury or exhaustion to offer him a solemn salute. They were knitting back together slowly and would be back in the fight when he needed them.
“Commander!” Shouted the Marcellus brat as he jogged back towards their lines, followed closely by Gorock, cradling the human in his arms as if it was his infant.
“Would you believe this idiot is still alive? A few broken bones and unconscious, but that's it!” Threstus crooned happily.
'Good, they still had the human, an essential asset. The bastions weren’t done yet, not by a long shot.'
“Copy that. Bastions move out!” He called, turning to lead the column. He prayed to whoever would listen that the emperor had one more trick up his sleeve. The Cult was summoning their god, and the empire had run out of those a long time ago.
Jonathan Tillman Level 14 Son of Flame.
Something was seriously wrong.
Tilly’s perspective was doubled as his psyche warred against the feeling of being in two places at once.
Part of him was being carried somewhere. His mana pathways had been cut to ribbons by the endless flow of power, and the Corruption within him wriggled hungrily now that it was not boxed in by the network of blue flame-aspected mana flowing within him. Tilly knew he wasn't going to die, but he worried he would never be able to cast again if left in this state.
If this had been his only perspective, he would have stayed blissfully unconscious, but simultaneously as he was lying unconscious in that broken state, he was also floating above the battlefield in the same location where he had unleashed his eight-fold Flame Expulsion. He could see the transparent outline of his ghost-like form and watched as streams of ruby energy were pulled in the direction of the Cult’s army and funneled into a giant ritual circle there.
Two threads of multi-hued energy tugged at the core of his incorporeal form. One, he knew, went all the way to his physical body, it continuously relayed the agony of his broken state back to him. The other was also pulling on him, but not in any direction that he could tell. He focused on it trying to understand just where it led but to no avail. He knew it was there, pulling on him... but maddeningly it was impossible to locate. It was like having a constant itch that he couldn't reach. He cursed in frustration, his ghostly form making no sound as he decided to turn and fly back to his body, ignoring the other thread for now.
Suddenly, his form was buffeted by waves of malevolent energy that started to build from within the ritual circle, and he felt himself start to tear apart under spiritual pressure. Whatever he had done to achieve this form, it clearly wasn't stable, and he panicked as the faint lines of his form started to blur and fade.
What would it mean for his normal self if this form of his was destroyed? He tried to shoot back toward the city, but let out a soundless scream as he realized he could only move at a sedate float. His awareness began to slip as he saw motes of himself separated from his body and carried away on the waves of spiritual pressure emanating from the ritual.
The second thread, the one he couldn’t follow tugged on him again, even more insistently. In a panic, Tilly grabbed at the thread with his will like a drowning man snatching a lifeline. Instead of trying to follow it, he mentally pulled on it as hard as he could, hoping he could pull himself away fast enough to survive the onslaught of energy.
His diminishing self suddenly felt like it was trying to squeeze through the eye of a needle, but Tilly kept pulling, desperate to get away from the creeping annihilation promised by the proximity of the ritual.
POP
He was through and in the exact same place as where he had been a moment ago…
But now everything around him was frozen in time. Even the waves of energy had stopped in their tracks and before him floating in the sky were two ethereal trees, whose canopies touched each other forming a natural arc. Between the two trunks was a spinning vortex of many-hued light, and his now visible second thread was leading right into the portal.
Tilly tried to find his first thread and discovered that while he could still feel its tug, it no longer seemed to lead anywhere.
Well… that wasn't right. It did lead somewhere, but right now he was somewhen…
Trying to figure it out completely hurt his already pounding head. He had always loved time travel movies, but no matter which theory you chose, it never ended in a simple logical bow.
Anyway. He could either enter the mysterious portal or pop back through the needle-sized hole in time-space and be destroyed by the raging sea of energy.
He shrugged, 'beggars can’t be choosers…'
He followed the thread until he was engulfed by the whirling many-hued energy. As he entered the portal, he was struck by the thought that this energy looked exactly like the energy that had held his pathways together after he activated [Resolute].