Unlike her assaults with Silas and Tobias, the guerilla mercenaries suffered losses. Minimal losses, but losses all the same.
In addition to the multitude of traps hidden along the road and beneath the waters, she’d had the mercenaries set up special wooden platforms and walkways just above the waterline for ease of movement. This allowed them to stay (mostly) dry, and gave them quick escape routes when necessary. Unfortunately, this was not a perfect solution. These artificial paths were just wide enough for two people to pass each other or walk side by side, meaning her forces shared a similar weakness to the enemy army. The narrow path made their movements predictable, and being spread thin meant they couldn’t easily concentrate attacks on one area.
The first round of the surprise attack usually went exceptionally well, but her mercenaries couldn’t stay hidden forever. Once their position was found by the army, the return fire they received was relentless. Still, all things considered, this small band of fighters proved time and time again that dealing death was their livelihood. Each day a handful of men perished–even with the healing items she’d given them to use–but the enemy usually lost several hundred in exchange.
By the time the army was within range of Feld the guerilla unit had certainly earned their pay. In five days they had lost only 12 Low Bronzes and 3 Peak Bronzes (540 CR), but had reduced the enemy forces by around 1500 mortals, 1000 Coppers of various ranks, 100 Bronzes of various ranks, and 1 Low Silver (13,000 CR). The enemy army still had a CR potential of 422,425 and was far from defeated, but their morale was hitting an all time low. Her advisors estimated that the morale penalty to CR would be at least 15% now after having to deal with constantly damp and muddy clothes, harassment day and night by both her group and the guerillas, and the ongoing food shortage. This meant their CR was closer to 360,000, which was fantastic progress but still too large of a gap to overcome in a direct confrontation.
Fortunately, she still had more than one strategy planned to help even the odds.
The guerillas’ instructions for the remainder of the war was to continuously harass whatever target of opportunity presented itself. She emphasized that they should prioritize easy and safe jobs over valuable ones for now, but that depending on how things went she may alter these orders. The effect this group had on morale was almost always going to be more impactful than the amount of enemy soldiers they could take out, and she wanted to keep her opposition constantly anxious and off balance. As for her main forces at Feld…
“Ready, General!” Leander, her High Silver, announced.
“Throw!” Samantha commanded. She de-materialized her weak, physical form and returned to her standard spectral state in an instant. Investing 20 points of qi into [Telekinesis], she attached her spirit to the oversized metal javelin and was pulled forward as Leander sprinted towards the line marked on the ground. Right before reaching the line, he cocked his arm back and threw the javelin with such force that it caused a small shockwave in the immediate vicinity.
The thrown weapon flew towards the sighting guide–a floating, glowing square above Feld’s defensive wall that wasn’t more than a few inches wide–and passed about a hand-span outside of its borders. With the enemy army about a mile down the road, any deviation from this target would result in missing them completely. However, that’s where she came in.
She began accelerating the javelin while altering its trajectory towards the intended target. Shortly before impact, she turned the javelin horizontally across her body and flew forwards with her arms stretched out in front of her as if she were pushing open a set of double doors. Even though most of the javelin was rounded, at this speed such minor details wouldn’t matter. It would be the same as if the entire weapon was a single, long blade.
With terrible ease and quickness the first row of combatants fell to their knees, each soldier’s head notably absent. The row behind them–blinded by the spray of blood and bone shrapnel–didn’t fare much better. They toppled over in a disjointed heap as they were halved by the passing steel. The third row collapsed after them as their legs were neatly sheared from their bodies. Samantha only let go of her hold on the weapon once it impacted the ground and was flung chaotically into the enemy ranks. It sliced and tumbled through several more unfortunate victims before being lost in the murky waters of the swamp.
Visualizing the launch area, she willed her spectral form to appear there. The world seemed to twist around her for a moment before she found herself floating beside Leander once more. He stood with another javelin in hand, awaiting her orders. Trickling just enough qi into [Spectral Projection] to briefly manifest a physical form, she caught Leander’s attention.
“Again!” she instructed.
He gave her a wide, savage grin, and nodded.
----------------------------------------
Multi-colored beams shot forwards in unison like a wall of light, blasting through the wave of charging enemies. They fell by the dozens, unable to find any cover due to the land in front of Feld being completely deforested and blinded to the glow given off by caster fire due to bright spotlights placed around the defensive barricade.
Inspired by her time with Harold, she had specially hired a cultivator bonded to a sand spider at great expense so that she could recreate the false sun. Her army alchemists had taken her limited knowledge of the ingredients Harold used–flare materials and the sand spiders’ [Secretion]--and ran with it. Not only were they able to recreate the false sun itself, but made versions that output more light and less heat. These brighter versions were then placed in reflective metal housings to focus the light in a single direction so that they wouldn’t hinder her own forces’ vision. The light shining out from Feld was so intense that it essentially negated any advantage that attacking at night may have given the cultists… at least while they were beyond the wall.
“Handoff!” her Low Silver commander shouted.
Mortal snipers passed their spent casters to their partnered soldier beside their assigned arrow-slit, and newly charged, ready-to-fire casters were promptly placed back into their hands by the mortal in line behind them.
“Aim!”
The snipers slipped the ends of their weapons through the narrow, vertical hole in the defensive wall and took aim.
“First volley!”
Another wall of caster fire cut through the battlefield.
“Hold!”
An enemy projectile managed to pass through an arrow slit and cut across an unarmored section of a sniper’s neck. Following their training, the mortal beside the arrow slit abandoned the caster they were loading a new spirit pearl into in favor of saving their comrade. The wounded sniper pressed a hand over their neck to staunch the bleeding while their partner pulled them to safety and treated the injury with supplies from their healing kit. The mortal who was in line behind the wounded sniper smoothly took his place and aimed the caster down field while their partner positioned themselves to the side of the arrow slit.
“Second volley!”
More enemies fell dead, but more still drew nearer to the wall.
“Hold!”
The fastest cultists of this latest wave–presumably cultivators–pulled out large hammers and started smashing into the reinforced gate at the center of the defensive wall. The alchemically-treated wood dented inwards or was chipped with each hammer blow, but the gates themselves showed no sign of budging.
“Focused fire on gates!” the Low Silver barked.
The soldiers stationed at the top of the defensive wall and directly above the gate shifted their priorities accordingly.
“Final volley!”
As deadly beams shot out across the battlefield once more, barrels of oil were thrown down onto the heads of the ones attacking the gate. Most of the cultivators avoided the falling containers, but were still coated with the slick substance as the barrels broke open on the ground. Then, several caster beams struck the spilled oil, igniting the spreading pool and everyone standing within it. Cultists screamed in pain and panic as they threw themselves on the ground to put out the flames, but were only awarded with well-placed caster beams or arrows to put them out of their misery.
“Handoff!”
Just out of effective range of the caster fire the cultists were putting together rough siege engines to break down Feld’s gates. Samantha had directed Leander to throw his javelins towards these new targets instead, but the results were mixed. Just as all the wood used for the defensive wall was alchemically treated to be resistant to burning and damage, the materials for these siege weapons were equally tough. She’d managed to destroy one of them before it could be used, but even now one was nearly in position to attack the gates. The wheeled contraption had a long, wooden arm with a sling at the end of it. The arm was attached to a series of weights and pulleys, and it appeared the sling would throw rocks weighing several hundred pounds towards the city.
Samantha manifested a physical body at the top of the wall and shouted a command of her own. “Incoming siege fire! Prepare defensive measures!”
The Low-Copper Crier she appeared beside repeated her orders with a voice-enhancing art, ensuring everyone in Feld heard the warning. Not long after her people were in position, the cultists’ launcher lobbed the heavy projectile through the air. By the looks of the speed and angle, they were aiming to pass over the tall wall and damage the city beyond. A combination of arts were used to break apart the stone midair, and more arts were used to harmlessly redirect the smaller chunks into the large open space between the first and second defensive walls.
As the battle continued on, Samantha couldn’t help but feel uneasy at how things were unfolding. Something about the whole situation was bothering her. Things were going much too well. Even with all her preparations and the handicaps she imposed on the enemy, she was taking far fewer losses and doing greater damage than even the most optimistic projections. She wasn’t so prideful as to assume this was due to strategic genius on her part, rather, she felt she was missing something important.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
She could feel theories and questions starting to form as her mind meridian started sifting through oddities in the battle. She believed she was capable of finding the answer on her own given enough time, but it would be better to share these concerns with her advisors for other perspectives and insights. She briefly appeared to Leander to hand off command and give him some parting instructions, then returned to her body.
Her advisors were practically living in the war room now that the war was fully underway, so she didn’t need to bother calling for any of them. As soon as she walked into the room she was given everyone’s full attention and she explained her concerns. After discussing some of the things that stood out as strange and answering several clarifying questions, Brienne was the one to voice the heart of Samantha’s worry.
“Based on what you’ve said… they’re fighting too much like a mortal army would, right?” Brienne asked.
“Yes! It’s like…” Samantha trailed off as she thought.
Based on Donovan’s intelligence, they should have nearly 100 Silvers in the army. Leander alone could act as a siege weapon with the javelin strategy. Why would the enemy not employ a similar tactic, or at least throw a javelin or two back at us?
“...they aren’t making proper use of their strongest cultivators?” Samantha eventually finished.
Brienne hummed. “I can understand why you’d think that, but I don’t think they’d make that kind of mistake. Perhaps a secondary army is using the passes?”
Donovan shook his head, “The scouts have reported as usual. No sign of enemy approach or passage.”
“One moment, I’ll check myself,” Samantha said. Then she projected directly to Killik.
Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, as far as she could tell. She appeared to a scout stationed close by –nearly scaring the woman out of her skin in the process–and confirmed that things remained quiet. Projecting directly to Rast next, she again confirmed that no enemies had come this way.
She canceled [Spectral Projection] and reported her findings to her advisors. Her advisors all tossed out and discarded theories as to why the cultists were holding back their most powerful force when a chilling possibility dawned on Samantha. She grabbed a communication artifact that connected her with the city watch and activated it.
“Captain reporting. What do you need, General?” a man’s voice emitted from the jade stone.
“I need a roll call of everyone on patrol tonight right now! This includes those on the wall.” Samantha ordered.
“That may take some time. When do you need the report?”
“Yesterday!” she practically yelled into the device, “Feed me information as you receive it. This is your highest priority.”
“Understood. I’ll be in touch.”
Samantha handed the crystal to a surprised Natalie and started firing off commands. “Keep track of all the reports and mark any gaps on the Envisor city map.” She looked at Brienne next. “Rally our reserve troops–even the ascendants who haven’t finished training yet.” She pointed to Donovan, “Get ready to issue a city wide alarm.”
Donovan looked taken aback by this turn of events. “What’s going on?”
Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest with stress as her advisors looked at her with wide eyes. “I think I’ve made a terrible miscalculation. We previously discussed the possibility that a small force could be sent over the mountains directly rather than go through the passes.”
Natalie nodded along with her words. “And we determined that they would be completely cut off from supply lines and support. They might cause some damage at first, but they would be run down before long. It would hardly be worth the losses for them, so the chances of them trying it would be low.”
“Captain reporting. Section 1 is fully accounted for,” the communication relic sounded.
Natalie pulled up the map of the city on the Envisor and marked a large swath of it in green.
“That’s logical when the cultist’s goal is to carve a path to the tower and make a stand there to protect their Divine Beast. A small force wouldn’t be enough to manage that, so it wouldn’t be worth it to try. However, Xiomavat is a creature of darkness. By nature, it prefers deceit and cleverness over direct confrontation. So, why would a being who attacks from the shadows lead its followers so openly and clumsily into our traps?”
“Perhaps it left the cultists to plan the army’s movements…?” Brienne frowned as she spoke.
“Captain reporting. Section 2 is fully accounted for.”
Natalie marked another section of the city in green.
“Divine Beasts don’t usually give their followers that amount of freedom,” Roland commented. “Maybe Xiomavat is simply a bad strategist?”
Brienne’s frown deepened, and she started to look more worried.
“There’s no evidence to support that. Past encounters with it actually suggest otherwise.” Donovan countered.
“Captain reporting. Section 3 is fully accounted for.”
Natalie updated the map once more. There was only one check-in remaining.
“I’m afraid that Xiomavat itself has snuck into the city with the Silvers to try and take the Spire without alerting us,” Samantha began. “It has enough power that cultists worship it as a god. Surely, sneaking less than 100 fighters into the heart of an unsuspecting city is within its capabilities?”
At that, her advisors grew pale.
“Captain reporting…”
Everyone’s attention turned to the jade talisman, hanging on the captain’s words.
“...Section 4 is fully accounted for. It’s all-clear across the city. Do you need anything else, General?”
The advisors let out their collective breaths at this, the tension visibly leaving their bodies. Samantha, however, wasn’t convinced that all was well.
“Was there anything out of the ordinary in the reports? The smallest detail or inconsistency could be important,” Samantha pressed.
The captain paused for a moment. “I wouldn’t say it’s unusual, but the Spire lead had one of her subordinates give the tally. They had all the proper passwords, though, so it didn’t seem suspicious. Such things can happen with unscheduled roll calls if the lead is taking care of something else or otherwise indisposed.”
“Thank you. That’ll be all, captain.” Samantha dismissed the man, and the communication artifact disconnected.
“Well, it was a good idea and a valid concern,” Donovan said, relief evident in his voice.
“Agreed. I’ll set up a patrol to check the mountains for approaching enemies,” Brienne added.
Samantha tapped her fingers unhappily on the Envisor. Things weren’t adding up, and she wouldn’t feel right just letting this go.
“Did you still want us to carry out your previous orders, General?” Natalie asked after a moment, seeing the displeased expression on Samantha’s face.
“Let me just check one last thing before I answer you.” she replied. Then, she entered spectral form once more.
Samantha flew up out of the war room and over Weyran, looking for anything out of place while she headed directly for the Spire. Weyran had been built around the Spire, but nothing was constructed closer than 100 yards to the potent tower. A 30-foot tall stone wall surrounding the tower was the closest structure, and a small force of elite guards were stationed along the wall and at the Spire’s exit at all times. These precautions not only limited the risk of the newly ascended causing harm to Weyran, but also served as a last line of defense for the Spire.
Everything seemed normal on the short journey there… peaceful, even. Patrols were running smoothly, streets were mostly empty, and all was quiet. The guards atop the Spire’s defensive wall seemed alert and actively looking for potential danger.
Wait… why are they being so vigilant? Did my roll call spook them?
It was expected that guards would be attentive on duty, but the degree of alertness seemed excessive. Their heads constantly swiveled, their eyes searching every crevice for any sign of attack or threat. Even her soldiers at Feld didn’t look so on edge.
She started to fly down to get a closer look when a flicker of movement near the Spire caught her eye. Shifting focus, she watched the Spire carefully and circled it until she spotted its source.
Her blood ran cold and she immediately dove for cover behind the wall. Cautiously, she peeked her head over just enough to keep an eye on the Spire.
“What’s wrong?” Silas questioned, feeling her panic.
The bone-deep terror she felt made it difficult to make her thoughts coherent enough to send to her companion. Eventually, she decided to just let the raw images and emotions flow through their bond instead of words.
Floating alongside the tower was the spiritual projection of a slender figured man. The flowing white robes he wore were similar to her own spectral attire, but it was obvious that he wasn’t human. Multiple black tails of various lengths extended behind the man in twisting, twirling patterns, and feline ears protruded from his pitch black hair.
Unpleasant memories of her last fight with a projectionist rose to the forefront of her mind. She became hyper-conscious of the knot in her broken cord, and paralyzed at the prospect of what unknown injuries the artificial god could inflict on her spirit. For all she knew, there could be even worse fates than living as a shade.
Soothing confidence and calm flowed through her binding thread and she felt her trembling spirit grow still. Silas didn’t speak, but the emotions she felt from him conveyed more than words ever could. He had an unshakable belief in her ability to overcome anything, including her own doubts and fears. That belief acted as her anchor now, allowing her to rein in her racing thoughts.
I don’t need to confront him right this second, but I do need to evaluate how bad things are. Observe first, then decide what to do…
Looking closely at Xiomavat, she picked up several new details. In his hand was a calligraphy brush, and he was using it to paint shining blue symbols on the tower walls. The strokes of his brush were precise and unrushed, and it seemed like he had only started writing on the Spire recently. He appeared to be writing in a ring starting at the top of the tower, but the first loop hadn’t yet been completed. As he wrote, his unusually thick soul cord attached itself to the symbols, though she didn’t know what purpose this served. Visually following his soul cord down the Spire, she saw that it ended inside one of the guards standing at the exit. The man stood stock still as if he were made of stone, staring blankly ahead. His back and left hand were pressed flat against the tower, but his right hand was turned outwards at his side–as if waiting for someone to hold his hand.
A guard was steadily approaching her location as he patrolled the walls. Closely looking at his appearance, a barely visible thread flashed briefly near his dantian. Squinting at it as he passed by, her worst fears were confirmed. This binding thread was the thinnest she’d ever seen–even more delicate than her gossamer thin soul cord was–which explained why she hadn’t caught it sooner. It was practically invisible to her spiritual senses, but one thing was clear: It was most definitely leading to the projectionist. To Xiomavat.
She discreetly checked the rest of the guards on duty to see if she had any nearby allies, but every single person was the same. It wasn’t long before she found where the cultists had stashed the bodies of those they had slain. Stripped down to underclothes, her loyal guards were crammed in the corner of one of the bunkhouses behind stacked boxes and barrels. Her only consolation was that all of them appeared to have been caught unawares and killed with a single strike. In all likelihood their passing was painless and without fear.
Exiting the bunkhouse and looking back towards the Spire, Xiomavat was finishing the first loop of script and was beginning the second ring below it. At the rate he was going, and assuming the ritual would end when the tower was covered with the scripts, it was likely the Spire would fall by sunrise. If they couldn’t stop him in the next six hours… all would be lost.