Ahzi glared after the Black Wind as it flapped towards the breach in Ohsen Wʉl. How she longed to give chase. The multitudes it had killed ... even just this day. If the other areas of the barrier didn’t require her presence just as badly, she would have. Despite the risk. Especially because of the risk.
At least she managed to claim one of his limbs. It had been foolish of him to challenge her when she was in her [Demesne]. Her [Purging Fire] would ensure that the injury would be permanent for the foreseeable future. At least until the Ahsmati were able to elevate another with anti-curse abilities. All in all, a victory. Even considering …
She allowed herself one moment to survey the breach in the Great Barrier. Like a festering wound, the rent sagged open, bleeding enemies and their artillery spells through. Already the delicate trenches beneath her were ruined. She could see Ahsmati mages working at the edges, further peeling back the flaps of the barrier.
This was unsalvageable. She needed to give the order to begin construction of the next line of defense. It pained her to see another slice of her homeland gone. It would be costly, but necessary. An amputation of an infected limb to save the body. As always, the army would have to hold the line and pay the price until it was done. At least with her here, it would not be quite as bad.
Right as she was about to leave, a feeling tugged at her perception. Ahi gazed down at the battlefield and her enhanced senses was able to pick out a face she had not expected to see. The foreigner. His features were unmistakable. He was wearing their uniform, which spoke to his struggle with its bloodstains and rents. At his feet lay an Ahsmati, one of the Tund cycle if she was not mistaken.
It seemed as if her small mercy had paid off, at least a little. She would have to ask Moeris for an update. Her mood a touch improved, she flexed her wings of light and accelerated to where the fighting was thickest.
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With a final look at the battlefield, the tail end of which he swore was directly at him, the regal woman left. With her, so did the exaltation left and soldiers streamed out of the square. Dante spotted Svōl and Pauwna making their wave over him. Once they arrived, he gestured with his chin towards where the woman had left.
“Zail vras …” Dante trailed off meaningfully, hoping to finally figure out who that woman was.
Svōl swiveled around to gaze at him as if he had grown a third head, the first emotion he had ever seen the man display. His were steely grey, which matched his attitude in his opinion. Even Pauwna made a grumbling sound in the back of her throat.
“So Nōv,” Svōl began in a reverent tone, “Aʉn Vūsp'uɑ Ahzi Wʉl.”
That is way too many words. I don’t even know what any of them mean. It had the feeling of a title, but he was unsure which part was title and which was name. Given the respect that the woman seemed to be held in, he hesitated to ask further questions for accidentally crossing a taboo. It was clear now that she was more important than he had assumed. For now, he would commit the entire thing to memory and see if he heard anyone else talking about her. Dante frowned as a thought struck him. Why then did she deign to talk to me?
A coincidence or perhaps something else?
Dante noticed that Svōl and Pauwna had moved away from the square. Svōl gave him a look and he hastened to catch up to them. I hope that we are not going back to the front. It’s not like I have a choice if we are. If there was an opportunity to escape — and I am not sure if there ever truly was — then it has passed.
On the way over, he checked his notifications to find two new ones.
Level 8 [Tund Ahsmati] has been slain
Your Participation: 57%
[Crossbow] has advanced to Level 2
[Brawl] has advanced to Level 3
That thing was only four levels higher than me? Dante was surprised to hear that, it had felt a lot stronger in the moment. Not exactly what he had been hoping would advance. Dante still did not know whether skills actually did anything for him or just kept track of how good he was. He was still holding out hope that something would happen at level 5 like [Overloaded Warding Flesh].
Fortunately, they stopped well before the first line of trenches. Less good was the fact that he was pretty sure that the first trench line had been taken over by the Ahsmati. The exchange of fire between their ranged attackers and the enemy was fiercer than ever. A fact that he became intimately familiar with given that he was responsible for removing debris. Whether that was collapsed trenches, like he had been doing this entire time, or … bodies. He tried not to think about that last part so much, but it was hard when they came in pieces. All of this was without mentioning the constant bombardment overhead. It slackened somewhat in the hours after the initial assault. However, these trenches were being filled faster than he, Svōl, and the other laborers could clear.
Occasionally, the woman with way too many titles would make an appearance over their section of trench. Whenever this happened, the healing flames would be cast down and the sounds of inhuman screaming would soon follow. Injured soldiers would rise, nearly from the dead, and rejoin the fight. If she just stayed, he thought they could win. She never did though, always leaving after a few minutes.
This must not be the only breach.
This state of affairs continued through the night and into the morning. Curiously enough, the tenor of the combat slowed at daybreak until it reached what Dante would consider to the normal. This did not mean that their work halted. No, they continued well into the day simply trying to catch up. Before this, Dante did not truly appreciate what it meant to be bone tired. Every part of him ached to sit down and rest. Even moving a finger seemed like a colossal effort.
When they were finally allowed to sit down and rest on the cold stone shelf that wrapped around the outward-facing part of the trench, he simply bundled up his overcoat to use as a blanket and was out. Despite the intermittent rain and wind, which he was only partially protected from by the trench wall, he slept soundly. When he opened his eyes again, it seemed like had simply blinked. Glancing at the sky, he saw that it must have only been a few hours. The bombardment had started again. He lurched to his feet with his fellow laborers, groaning as every muscle screamed in protest.
The next couple of days passed similarly. The entire night would be spent toiling amidst fire and death, the day saw them continuing to clear rubble, and in the afternoon they got a few hours of sleep. The strain on all of them was palpable. Even the normally unflappable Svōl had dark circles under his eyes and a perpetual scowl rather than his normal vacant look.
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During this time, Dante finally got to find out what was making that intermittent thrumming sound. Spaced fairly equally across this second line of trenches were sunken emplacements that sheltered giant ballistas. Even to his inexperienced eye, they looked to be incredible pieces of engineering. They were about the size of a small building and were built onto a platform that could be freely rotated by (enhanced) hand. The entire thing was made of metal and must have weighed many tons. That was where the terrestrial ended and the fantasy began. The torsion part was weaved of some strange magic and the arm had runes engraved down its length. Various pipes snaked into its internals, supplying something, When it fired, it did so with a small quake and a whirlwind that was strong enough to knock him over. The bolt would launch so fast that it would appear to teleport. Now that he could see where it was aiming, he saw that each bolt would penetrate through the ground, into the trench, and then detonate.
Right as they were finishing up one day, Dante received a notification.
[Menial Labor] has advanced to Level 5
[Specializations] are available
He felt a glimmer of excitement past the haze of exhaustion. His theory had been correct! Skills did unlock specializations at level 5. His excitement quickly died down as he saw his options.
Choose a new [Specialization] for [Warding Flesh]
Excavator For a small mana cost, every shovelful of dirt will carry twice its weight. Miner Instinctively sense faults in stone and the rough size of mineral deposits. Builder Gain an intuitive sense of measurement. Precision increases with level.
His mind felt like mush, he didn’t want to do this right now. But forced himself to concentrate. He nearly selected [Excavator], then paused. Sure it would be useful in his current work, but he couldn’t see using it after he escaped. Besides, using mana tired him and he didn’t need more of that. Instead, he selected [Builder]. Hopefully, he could use it to start benchmarking his abilities. It likely had some combat applications as well. It would be useful to know the exact range from your target when firing a bow or crossbow.
He looked at the shovel in his hand and realized that it was about five feet long. He picked up the next piece of rubble. It was about 40 pounds … or 18 kilograms. Huh, I guess that I can switch between them at will. That alone would have been useful on Earth. Dante remembered one time when the construction company he had been working for at the time had been contracted by a Dutch company. The entire construction had been rocky, but he remembered when they had ordered hundreds of windows that had been comically too small for their frames. It turned out that someone had accidentally ordered them in centimeters instead of inches. His boss had not been happy that day. Dante realized that he was smiling and shook his head.
It went to show how bad things were if he remembered that job fondly.
It wasn’t until the fifth day of this that there was a change. The first difference was that he woke in the morning for once. He was still tired, but at least he could think of something else other than sleep. He did not question his good fortune, but got up and gnawed on some hard tack — the stuff was only edible if it was soaked in water. Then he picked up his shovel and waited to be directed to the day's work. The second discrepancy was when they were led away from the front line and into the subterranean third line of trenches, which were emptier than he remembered. This area had not escaped damage either, he saw several holes in the ceiling, and one passage they passed was completely collapsed.
When they passed completely through the third trench and back into the sunlight, Dante saw that there was a cart waiting for them. Waiting around it were two groups of soldiers, the first of which he recognized. It was the rest of their squad including Pauwna, Sūnva, and the others. They had large bags slung over their shoulders and looked as tired as he felt. The other group looked fresh, young even. He thought they might be fresh recruits. Dante and Svōl joined the rest and, after a few words from Sūnva, the new soldiers left in the direction they had just come from.
It was then Dante let himself hope. Am I finally going to escape this battlefield? He knew that it was likely such a thing would be a temporary reprieve at best, but he would take anything. They climbed aboard the cart and were off.
He leaned around to gaze at the beast drawing the cart and saw that it was another one of those strange lizards. Could have even been the same one. It … kind of reminded him of the Ahsmati. That can’t be right. He nudged Pauwna with his shoulder, pointed at the beast, and asked: "Veil vras Ahsmati?"
She stared at him for a second before bursting out laughing. It was the first time he had seen her do that. It was an unusual sound, it reminded him of a sound that he once heard a Puma make. He thought it might be called chuffing? She brought a hand to cover her mouth in a surprisingly ladylike manner. He thought it was ... cute. It was strange trying to reconcile this version of Pauwna with the one that had torn the Ahsmati's guts out.
"Lal, Vail vras Risrou." She said once she had regained her breath. Dante nodded, his face reddening. Trying to change the subject he pointed at a nearby tree and asked the name for it. This continued for a while until he spied something in the distance.
After a short time, soon the horizon was dotted with tents. From this view, they had an unobstructed view of the entire camp. Much like everything in this world, its size beggared belief. While they were nearing it, he took the time to count the rows and columns of the tents. They were in disciplined rows, so it was fairly easy. Easier than he remembers such mental math being. Perhaps that point in cognition was helping him more than he knew. Or maybe it was the [Builder] skill. He then multiplied them together and came to a staggering count of about 800,000 thousand tents.
It’s not guaranteed that each of those tents have only one person either. This is probably not the only camp either. This conflict is even larger than I imagined. I mean, this is essentially a city!
The cart drew up alongside the camp to where a large area had been cleared. It was different from the sections of the camp he had previously visited, though he hadn’t visited many. The area was lined with covered wagons. They were an eclectic mix. Some were no different from the wagon he was traveling in, practical, sturdy, and simple. Others were much more gaudy, having patchwork covers of all the colors of the rainbow. Many had dangling ornaments like windchimes or beads on a string. Some even appeared like moving houses. All of them had either rugs with goods strewn across them or some kind of stall.
Is this a market of some sort?
While he was gawking, they had left the wagon and made their way towards tables that had people lined in front of them. Something to do with records he supposed. They found an empty table with a bored looking woman who wore a robe and had fingers stained with ink. A bureaucrat of some sort he suspected. They assembled into a line which Dante found himself at the end of. Each member of the party would talk to the official, who would then note something down, and then was passed a bag. When it was Dante’s turn, he received an assessing look that he was all too familiar with. She began peppering him with questions. He knew none of the words being used and was being to panic when Sūnva stepped up. She began talking to the official and pulled a scroll from her bag which she showed the woman. Aside from occasional mentions of his name, he had no idea what they were talking about but it lasted for an uncomfortable amount of time. They seemed to come to a consensus and he was handed the same bag as everyone else, then was waved aside. As he was joining the rest of the squad he peaked inside of it and stopped dead. There were coins inside, a fair few of them.
I get paid?