We make every conceivable preparation for the attack including a massive increase in our combatant numbers. Charlie managed to get two and a half thousand people to stand on the walls with more magic at their fingertips and protection than I could have hoped for and many more continue to stream in.
Such were our preparations that the first attack is barely a warm-up.
Nearly eighteen thousand enemies lay strewn over our defenses with nary a single injury on our side, but this first attack is not really meant to challenge us, not with our record speed of development. This regular attack afflicts every village in the instance and scales in power with the number of inhabitants not their strength and that is only a problem for the weakest of villages behind the climb in strength the system expected.
The next two attacks however will take into account individual power from anyone that is part of the village. I straddle the line with how much time I passed here, after all depending on how the system would measure my personal growth could count for 5 or 5000 people and in the latter assumption, we might be screwed.
An immense being half human, half plant, weighing thousands of tons and with a large pocket of space attached…
I shudder thinking about the implications. We had learned a lot about how the system measured strength, but this aspect is still a mystery.
A hundred fighters surround the last dozen goblins for an hour to give us more breathing room before the next attack. After all, our gamble for experience points relied on heavy reinforcements to avoid enormous casualties.
Luckily, nearly an hour and forty after the first attack squadrons of flying craft peek over the horizon zooming low with the help of runic formations on the ground. A new addition that made the mana consumption for levitation trivial compared to the old repulsing runes working alone.
Minutes before the attack the sky closes. Clouds not just diffusing the light, but making anyone without the system’s help strain their eyes to see. Not even two in the afternoon and things are already like this…
“Everyone get ready,” Richard calls out some 5 minutes before the attack and I feel the enemy dropping a few kilometers off.
I connect to the living map in the command center atop the walls and form bright red dots representing the marching wave of enemies.
The counter just keeps going up, until it crosses the 30 thousand mark. Though unlike usual, my attention heads elsewhere. Normally I would have just sat and waited for them to come into visual range or at most tried to catch a few off guard with numbing and irritant agents from the few slightly harmful compounds I made.
Their increase in power and numbers, however, forces me to attack at near my full power. I start shooting hundreds of fireballs, the closest thing to the antithesis of a druid's proper action in most people’s minds.
However, I know that while destruction in the form of fire can indeed be a problem, it can also mean growth, renewal and crucially: survival. There were other subtler methods, like water and earth, even air had its dangerous aspects, but the simple power of destruction of cleansing that fire has an appeal of its own.
Waves of fire wash over the enemy. I don’t even bother to concentrate too much on even seeing them with my perception field. I become an amalgamation of life, a being of roots and flesh stitched together and juggling a thousand skills simultaneously. I direct the will of dozens of the more experienced roots to help me mentally track and keep this many enemies in their sights as Aspen handles the power in the form of mana and I season each with a dash of Qi on top.
Keeping track of it all with dozens of orbs a second is a struggle, but we manage and the efforts are worth it. Even if the enemy won’t go down from just a single hit and the fact their sheer numbers mean they can absorb a lot of casualties before they start to lose their threat status. Each blow also creates a weak point in their leather armor and knocks off a few Health points.
The nearly 500 other seeds with a minimum level of development suck in mana to grow and reinforce our defenses.
Pikes, trenches, and barbed wire sit alongside the active traps, trying to catch the enemy off guard. With their growing power, not just the archers and more dexterous fighters could move by stepping on the poles above the ground, but nearly everyone in the enemy army.
Now if a third of the seemingly solid footsteps dropped at the wrong time, they would tumble to the ground or even get run through a spike, that is the price they pay for rushing to attack us.
I keep most of my attention away, but the sounds, the vibrations and even the cycle of Aether in the air all build to something I had felt before. The difference is the sheer magnitude taking it to a whole new level. The core of the most experienced troops, some seven hundred original fighters apply their deft touch to this work of belief, the remnants of Aether they unconsciously leak out in the air with overwhelming certainty of their purpose, the trust that they can get through this as they have done before and as they will do again.
Surrounding them are the nearly two thousand new fighters adding heft to the Aether work, a natural formation that in time might surpass anything we could dream of. Last but not least is the stream of reinforcements, so far almost 4 thousand fighters and mages of various inclinations ready to provide support and replace the injured ones in the main line, adding their weight and power to the battle.
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I stare in amazement at the sheer magnitude that only Charlie could have accomplished.
There were a lot of people involved, but this is his brainchild, a careful diplomatic balance that was about telling stories, stories of what we could accomplish if we worked together, stories of hope and what we could gain if we joined efforts.
And he needs this to work… We NEED this to work. Accelerating everyone’s growth in trade for a few hours of their time… the whole instance would gain if we worked together.
I will make sure they succeed.
The enemy rushes into the defenses even as the burn from exerting myself starts, not in an overwhelming way, but enough to know that I can’t keep this pace for an entire hour. The hundreds of seeds start their work, the work they are trained to do. They move the defenses, still firmly attached, but unpredictably tricking dozens of enemies to fall. And each enemy that falls is trampled, as other dozens more rush and instead of a solid footing, they find themselves impaled, cut, burned or something else.
Careful detection tracks the enemy and our defenders release dozens of types f attacks, though the most common is still the beloved fireball on the automated defenses. As the enemy comes into range, the operators shoot with silver enhanced fireballs turrets by remote, now a much larger and expanded group through the dozens of towers in the main approach.
Our advantages just stack on top of each other, with wide formations covering the walls buffing our side. 2 or three percent in speed, stamina or something else may not seem much, especially when the effects can’t stack on each other, but Richard can switch for the most appropriate ones any time he chooses giving a bit of flexibility to our deployment.
Still, there is something wrong with this attack.
Not in that is it more effective than usual and I fear they will overwhelm us, but the exact opposite. I look back, drawing less Qi and stop shooting fireballs like they are confetti. With enough of my wits back to run trhough this line of though, I start to figure out what is happening while calling our Arch Shaman to talk.
The attack goes without any surprises. It is weaker per goblin not because their levels failed to scale to our expectations but from a lack of coordination.
The small and subtle rearranging Richard calls out changes the tempo and instead of a thoughtful and well-reasoned answer, we get the upper hand far too often. Sometimes, the right response arrives slowly from the back, coordinating the attacks very ineffectually.… other times…
His only answer does nothing to stop my gut from going haywire.
“I don’t know what is happening, it is like an inexperienced commander took place, he was raised from the lousiest of stations all the way to command of this force…”
Dread builds in my stomach until the fight ends. A fresh group of a hundred fighters, the few who didn’t even get to see combat all keep the last dozen goblins alive.
Suddenly I find myself in the meeting without even realizing that I walked there, with Richard talking.
“We are going to try and delay the next attack as much as possible, something is wrong… we need to prepare as much as possible…. Do you have anything more to contribute Nash?”
“Nothing useful, all my sources are dry, only my gut…”
Getting people from even further away… if the next attack was going to be harder and concentrate even more power… the fight would be Hard.
The attack ends without any surprises and nearly three hours after the second attack started the goblins surrounded simply stop. I can feel as if they no longer blindly attack with the last remnants of their slowly recharging stamina, instead, keel over, all fight has simply gone out of them.
This change in their pace is a decent indication that the last attack will be coming in another hour.
Less than an hour later I’m proved correct. As the first few enemies start to pour out, my perception field is instantly trained on top of them.
I not only see, but I feel them.
The strength of their tendons, the surety of their steps and how fast the signals travel from their brain to their muscles.
These are not grunts.
Each second passes and my hope that the the uncrece in quality will mean a decrece in numbers, but I’m dispointed.
My heart sinks as I finally finish counting.
“40 thousand enemies… give or take.” I say in my comms: And the average is significantly stronger than we had been expecting.”
“What?” Richards asks and I continue:
“A thousand shamans, a thousand orcs, the largest we have seen, a monstrous Chief, and two Arch shamans.”
“Keep an eye out,” Richard says and I nod.
I do keep an eye out, this time even with my perception field.
My attacks head out slower, but with a little more accuracy. The seeds are immensely helpful and Aspen as always provides the bulk of mana handling capability, as the perception field passes over the chief and the two arch shamans… There is something about them.
So I stop, not just for a few instants, but I keep it trained on them for a few uninterrupted seconds and that is when I realize.
Ohh, that’s his son, OUR Arch Shaman’s son… and the scowl on his face, the sheer and unadulterated rage underneath, that is a powerful motivator. This.. may complicate things.
After warning Richard, I call the Arch Shaman and his near perfect mental images come my way:
“Two Arch Shamans? I don’t think so, but… my son may be bending a few rules to get a more effective attack this second time. And… well it is complicated to explain.”
“How much more effective?”
“That will vary, but if he looks like an Arch Shaman… he may have some of their powers to call upon. You will need my help..”
“Well, I don’t want...”
“I’m telling you, you will need my help. I don’t know exactly what they will do, but the pieces are falling into place and you won’t have the luxury to figure it out slowly.”
“Will you be ok? I mean not attacking us is one thing, actively defying the system and fully switching sides…”
I sense faint concern for his apprentice, still sleeping in his own little mud beside the new house that Ahjrahh built in a clear corner not too far away from the magical testing area.
“My apprentice can handle the backlash. The system will be pissed and I don’t relish taking arms against my own people, but I do this for all my people, including my son that is more likely to become a wraith, a ghost of his former self than to retain his sanity.”
I dry swallow at his words. I don’t know if I could make the same choice that he has, but even if it is rather extreme, I will trust his words.
One last look reveals the first goblins breaking their cover into the wide clearing.
Time has run out.