Right after the brief meeting, I return to my spot on the wall. By now there is an unwritten rule that everyone passing through avoids it even when I’m not there.

A look at the horizon reals the cleaning crew working around the ones keeping the remaining goblins contained. The few remaining goblins are all running low on stamina and have to measure their attempts attacking us or risk falling halfway through their lunges, but they don’t stop for even a moment.

I set down to meditate, grow the formations underground and tweak them with what I learned during the last battle, but something is off.

A stronger breeze.

Except for days, no, for weeks the weather has been strange.

I look for what specifically is setting off alarms in the back of my mind and with one deep breath, the slight thrill of strong rain or maybe even a tempest hits me with full force. The slight chill just before the dams in the sky break. The one thing that seems off is the lack of dark clouds, but I was certain: water is coming.

Ohh, sweet rain.

I didn’t know in what form nor had I no idea if it had anything to do with the attacks or if it was in response to our actions, but it is coming.

Enjoying the rapidly changing weather, I direct my attention underground.

Grow, build, shape, become.

Grow, build, shape, become.

Grow, build…

In my mind a simple mantra flowing an old and missed mental rhythm. A mental pattern that is distinctly Pando ‘flavored’.

The hour pass and they finish off the rest of the goblins. Not a single standing enemy remains. The attack also doesn’t come so our gambit from keeping the goblins captive seems to have worked, though as Richard implied, we likely wouldn’t be able to cheese the system forever even if we tried.

Three waves of reinforcements arrive before the end of the hour. Almost six hundred elite fighters to supplement our own forces. They are not used to our way of doing things, but that shouldn’t be too much of a problem, especially with the further reinforcements on the way.

The last few minutes tick down to the expected time as most of the village returns to the walls. Many of them are beaten and bloodied, but also with proper healing salves and bandages along with the regular mouthful of heath fruits. There are even the rare few who downed a health potion, though most of them are the more seriously injured and stayed behind to recuperate in the village.

Too bad our health potions stockpile was so limited. Merchant's limitations on how many of the Nice goods we could buy were chaffing. Though even my health fruits were something of a commodity given how little time to grow them we had and the constant use in dozens of villages.

We didn’t have enough for everyone to use daily. Still, Charlie made sure to store a small cache, by my last count it was about half a dozen health fruits per person. His caution is paying dividends now as most of the more injured people had already consumed their personal supply.

The seconds tick down to our best estimate when the group surprises me. Dropping right outside the edge of the clearing instead of further in the forest they immediately start running to our walls.

Startled, but not frozen, I look at their exact spot and form a map beside the one with the life form detectors surrounding the village without a word.

It only takes a moment for the people in the room with Richard to realize what both maps are showing.

“They are charging full speed ahead.”

“Recall the scouts in the area, sound the alarm and prepare for battle.” Orders Richard.

An audible, but not overwhelming noise alerts everyone along the walls, though most were already paying attention to the incoming horde. After the alarm screech, an announcer speaks:

“Enemy in sight. 40 seconds. Assume battlelines.”

The few who were eighter distracted or finishing their preparations rush and everyone’s focus heads to the incoming enemy.

Scaling back the sound transmission and turning off the loudspeakers, the announcer starts to speak to the Litenents in the comm system.

“Estimate 12 thousand enemies. Average level 51… Large orc contingent at the back.”

I let all that information settle in the back of my mind and focus on anything my roots may be able to tell me. With my perception field and mana sense in the vicinity, I catch dozens of shamans simultaneously casting a similar scrying magic to the last wave. I power our defenses at their limit, hoping that the effect of spot overloading mana is mentally blinding any shamans theying to peer behind our defenses.

I do the routine most have come to expect from me and take as much of a toll on the incoming wave as possible. But if before my actions were fist sized rocks above the water that could ‘cut’ the bottom of knee height wave, now the story is altogether different.

Ten meters tall tsunamis don’t even notice anything less than half their height, and the sheer volume and speed of water will go over anything but a gigantic wall.

I am no wall.

The enemy simply rolls over all that I’m, all the small contributors I make, though I don’t give up.

Thousands of them get numbing agents in their blood, I have hundreds of opportunities to ensnare goblins, wolves and even the special units.

All of that is largely mitigated from their insane march speed, so I have to choose between dozens of opportunities at a time. Worse of all, are the 200 shamans surrounding the goblin chief.

I shake my head and relay all that I learn to Richard’s attendants trying to focus on the stuff they can’t get from other people’s observations and ignore what isn’t important.

300 meters. I prepare myself for them to halt.

250 meters. Any time now.

200 meters. Come on.

150 meters to the wall and they are still charging full steam ahead.

“Holy hell!” I exclaim incredulously.

They are not gonna stop… I should have expected that.

Suddenly my mind is firing off so many directions. Dozens of things they could be doing. I had been blind until now. They just hadn’t done them yet, we can’t assume they are incapable.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

The waves of enemies hit the base of our walls.

Each line hits the first one and climbs over the first ones to arrive.

Tangled it takes moments for them to reach the top.

The battle begins in Earnest in the battlement where they can fight off on a more even footing.

The stragglers in the later lines spill over the sides of the village and start to surround us looking for any weak spots. With the wall atop a cliff and large clearings, we can keep the back and sides safe with a minimal contingent but this is not a few stragglers or infiltrators, this is a large army of its own, if thinner than the main rush on the front.

Richard with his ever present guidance repositions a few more people to the back.

Not many need to sprint around, but with their advantages and the magical defenses, the hundred and fifty or so taking care of our flanks will simply dominate any engagement unless the enemy simply gets much larger numbers or can teleport reinforcement to a concentrated area.

Even as most of our defenders are hard at work and the front line threatens to fold before the absolutely massive tide of enemies, now all but a rare few above level 50 the losses the enemy suffers are not to be ignored.

Rushing through the traps and trenches dug and spike all along the ground the enemies advance are slow compared to the shorter smooth path atop the walls. The magical defenses devastate their ranks, but again, that is largely limited by their fast charge and lack of time to get many volleys before they are climbing the walls.

Still, they hold a large numerical advantage. Also, each of the enemies is stronger now than ever, with a large strength bump from hitting level 50 from almost every single unit from their line.

Though as I try to find my footing and simply do as much damage as possible to any passing over any of the formations underground and trying to find any other tricks I can pull, they pull another surprise out of their hat.

And it’s not some overwhelming magic combining the power of their 200 shamans, but something small. A single point in space in their midst I hadn't noticed until now.

I quickly identify what seems like their Elder shaman and unexpectedly my heart freezes.

Arch-Shaman - Level 101

“Shit,” I say as he focusses his magic. What is supposed to be only in Merlin’s wheelhouse begins to form between his hands. Not quite the infinitely variable meta magic, but more complex than anything I or anyone else could do and including their characteristic chants which would probably preclude us from using the same runic form.

“Ash aahm, you boom casaerth azerinth, azacaton ishiiodra. Malaedra youzaarahh, carvatron tuzaarahh.”

The others follow their almost ritualistic dance centered around the arch-shaman.

Something incomprehensible is forming. An infinitesimally small point for an attack.

Even the level 100+ magic-users at the head, he strains his old muscles underneath his wrinkly skin to hold onto this absurd power.

A strong mana stream keeps flowing from all the others and simply disappears into a form I don’t recognize, though whatever it is, I don’t like it… at all. They are not bringers of peace, they are harbingers of death and I need NEED to stop them, what ever the cost.

I let my consciousness go entirely to the spot underneath him ignoring even the march of the goblin chief and the sudden drop in the temperature all the way to negative numbers.

With eh enemy standing only 50 meters away, the entire group can focus on them including Merlin as he does his best to disrupt whatever is coming and I modify the two closest mana disrupting formations to concentrate their entire output on the attack in their middle.

Even Aspen kicks into high gear and grows tendrils to surround the Arch-shaman trying to suck any loose mana away. He manages to abscond with a few points here and there, but each shaman keeps their mana tightly controlled until it enters the black headache inducing sphere.

Not even my perception field can tell what it is made of.

I see our failure and lack of progress even as the seconds tick and they charge the attack, but regardless of his impressive magical capability and our lack of knowledge, I can tell from his shoulder twitch, his slight hip wist and dozens of subtle muscle movements it has come to an end. He is about to shoot.

The berserk mana from my formations trying to disrupt his control makes very little difference so I withdraw my will and do the only thing I can think of. I grab the only chance Merlin and the others have to survive.

Right in front of Merlin’s mage group I pull all of the shields in the inner world and raise them at maximum power. At the same time, I open another portal, this time underneath the water pond of the inner world. Startled rabbits flee from the whirlpool as I form a large water rune atop the pond to guide the water out.

Already extending his arm to release the ball of destruction in his hands his eyes widen, but the arch shaman doesn’t hesitate. Pushing forward his entire will we both put our all in line.

It takes only an instant for the crackling ball of death to touch the water I drew from the inner world boring trough like it isn’t even there.

Electric discharges and a neat hole are all left behind then it finishes breaking all of my shields, to hit the second to last defense.

The segmented shield powered directly by the formations in the wall designed to stop exactly this type of attack. Siege attacks like our fireball turrets which are meant to cause a large amount of damage in a relatively small package, except this is in a league of its own and the 20 thousand mana shied barely slows it down.

The very last line of defense is powered by Merlin’s and the other’s mana pool. His entire will backing the shield as he strains to meld with it like I had seen him do against the HLZ beasts with their mana disrupting attacks.

A large explosion blinds everyone's physical and magical senses, every sense except my perception field and suddenly my inability to sense mana with it doesn’t seem so bad.

Even as Merlin and the others behind the shield are blasted away and fly through the air, relief hits me. There were a few unlucky souls outright mushed into a paste nearby, but the Mages are ok and the damage was largely mitigated. Even the wall is not left unscathed as the attack takes a large 6 meter to bite out of it.

I trust them to take care of themselves even as I turn my attention back to the Shaman and their leader. For a moment their path is nearly clear as they shoot fireballs and lightning attacks all along the wall with no real magic users to disrupt them.

No one but me.

Taking direct control of the magical defense, I maintain the hexagonal shields taking care to replace them as soon as possible after each break so they can blunt all the attacks coming. I also form water spheres in front of all the other attacks for the same purpose but never taking my eyes out of the shaman’s overarching strategy.

Throughout it all, I see the arch-shaman staring at me. Staring like I had two heads or something as he doesn’t even contribute to the attacks.

Benefiting from the small reprieve, I don’t break his concentration and only defend against the other attacks instead of going on the offensive.

But as the seconds pass and I hear a loud bark only ten meters to my right from the Goblin chief the spell is broken.

Returning to his attack for a moment I can almost feel the disappointment in the arch shaman’s eyes. Each of his actions is monotonous and proform.

The change is probably imperceptible to most people, but the difference is glaring under the perception field. A few seconds later someone else takes notice of the change. The goblin chief barks at his shaman.

Though even as he continues to do that, my heart lifts.

With each of his commands, the shaman stops for a second to acknowledge the orders and then continues to work in the same slow and methodical method without making the same extremely damaging attacks.

Almost apoplectic, the goblin chief gives up and turns to the strongest pair in the village. The green thing nearly matches both Alex’s dexterity while surpassing Greg in raw stats. But even against an enemy this strong, working together they can barely keep up.

I take all their fights out of my mind and turn my attention back for a few more seconds as the injured and bloodied mages make their way back to the top of the walls.

As they find him, the mages prepare to attack our new potential friend, so I call out: “Don’t attack the arch shaman, I think he is a tentative ally.” The others turn to me like the arch shaman had before and I explain: “I did not grow two heads, nor I'm not crazy. Just… trust me.”

Merlin, having to run the farthest is the second to last to arrive and nods while starting work of his own having gotten the gist of what I meant.

With a flourish of his hand, he starts one of his characteristic attacks with the help of another 4 mages while the rest work in defending against the shamans. Letting our defense to the others, I go back to picking off the more vulnerable goblins and occasionally an orc or two.

In the back of my mind with the help of the perception field, the arch-shamans actions are glaringly obvious.

His first instinct is to protect the shamans around him as they try to inflict as much damage as possible to us. They try to defend against the powerful and focused magma balls coming every two seconds, but none of the attacks are aimed at the arch shaman, and he takes no defensive action.

Near him, another shaman, this one looking to be amongst the youngest I ever saw starts pleading and then talking agitatedly with him. Tears well up in his eyes, but his pace and ineffective choice of attacks continue. He doesn’t create larger attacks or coordinate large groups letting everyone pool their strength.

This alone is huge, but his sheer strength from being a level 100 plus caster being underutilized is the icing on the cake. That should make the possible if costly fight, a near bloodless battle from now on.

That assumption however is just that, an assumption, we still have nearly 10 thousand enemies to kill and trusting everyone else to do their job, I get started. In the sky, the clouds darken and I hear thunder.