“Please! Please, I have children!”
Oliver did his best not to roll his eyes at the man pleading for his life. He had no intention of murdering him and, in fact, had been in the process of ignoring the civilian carpenter before he threw himself to the ground and began groveling.
A glance at his mentor showed that he was both amused and impatient, so Oliver freed his legs from the man’s grip and stepped over him, “Just hide somewhere until this is over,” He grumbled.
The man seemed entirely flummoxed at the turn of events, apparently having expected things to go much differently, but after a couple of seconds, he stood up and ran away like he should have done from the beginning.
“I don’t get why they think we are gonna kill them all.” He muttered, resuming his march toward the docks.
“I have no doubt the local powers did their best to instill as much fear of us into the citizens as they could in the short time they had. It’s a good way of avoiding defections and traitors, even though it doesn’t last long when the people come into contact with the supposed monsters and realize they aren’t that bad.” Sir Leonard replied, quickly striding through the semi-empty streets.
Sounds of battle came from all over the city by now. Oliver knew that most of the Revolutionary Army was busy corralling the local soldiers away from their barracks - and thus easy access to ammunition and weapons - under the leadership of Sir Gerard. He almost pitied the bastards, knowing just how inhumanely efficient the Minister of War could be.
On the opposite side of Lamprey Port, acrid black smoke rose from where he believed the Magic Tower to be. Sir Gareth and Lady Amelia would be focusing on apprehending as many mages as possible there, as the Army was a greedy thing and always needed fresh recruits, especially magical ones.
On the other hand, he was supposed to take part in the push toward the docks, where the Navy contingent was supposed to be.
Surprisingly, there was very little stopping them from simply waltzing over there. Oh, a few town guards tried to set up barricades to slow them down, but nothing that could hold the force led by the Hero for even a handful of seconds.
The men and women around him were all grizzled veterans and made up the beginnings of the Special Forces that Sir Gareth had wanted to create. They weren’t enough to be an entire corp yet, and likely wouldn’t be for a long time considering the harsh requirements to join, but they were worth their weight in gold.
Even without Leonard to sweep away the resistance, once the wards had fallen, the fate of Lamprey Port had been sealed. Evidently, no one expected the much-vaunted protections to fail, especially so quickly.
The town was still reeling from the breach and hadn’t had the opportunity to prepare for urban combat - something the Revolutionary Army was extensively trained on.
BOOM!
A massive explosion echoed from the northwestern walls, strong enough to shake the ground. Oliver didn’t even have the time to pick himself up and ask what had happened when a shadeling materialized before them, clumsily bowing to Sir Leonard.
“The Tower Master has been neutralized, Grand Marshal.” And with that, it disappeared once again, leaving behind a group of still confused soldiers.
“Ah, Amelia always scolds me for my methods, and then she goes and does that,” Sir Leonard huffed in amusement, resuming his march and forcing all the others to put their questions away and catch up.
Finally, the cobbled streets opened, giving way to the wider spaces needed for port activities. Lamprey Port had massive facilities, especially for a town that depended so much on maritime trade. New docks shone under the sunlight, and crystalline waters greeted the invaders.
Distracting from the idyllic sight were the four galleys, which were in the process of removing anchor and setting sail.
It took Oliver a moment to register that the Navy was running away.
“What the fuck?!” He asked no one, but looking around, it seemed the others shared his disbelief. Humans, hobgoblins, and even the new entry, Neer the half-orc, stood there stunned. No one had expected the Navy to turn tail and leave this soon.
“Alright, then.” He heard Sir Leonard mutter before he turned to address the men. “Neer, Oliver, I want you to run to the end of the port, where the lighthouse is. Eliminate all who remain there, though I don’t expect much resistance. Jacob, Frisk, see if you can’t lift the boom chain. The rest with me, we’ll board at least one of the fuckers.”
After that, there wasn’t much time to think. Considering that they had just left the pier, the ships would take a while to leave the artificial harbor. However, Oliver knew from his studies that every galley was equipped with artifacts to increase its speed if necessary and always included at least one water and one wind mage. If given the chance, they’d leave before anyone could do anything.
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His feet pounded on the stone path, and the wind pushed back, whistling as he accelerated more and more, mana surging in his limbs. At his side, Neer kept his pace without any visible effort.
Oliver would have liked to tell her to go ahead first. That they couldn’t afford to let the ships go free. But his every breath was needed. And deep down, he wanted to prove he could participate in an elite mission like this. Sir Leonard always extolled the benefits of hands-on experience, and he certainly hadn’t skipped on letting Oliver train against real enemies in the Darkwood, but that was different from an operation where the stakes were so high.
The Revolution couldn’t afford to let anyone escape to tell the tale of what happened in Lamprey Port. At least not anyone who would directly report to their enemies. Their most significant advantage so far was that the rest of Hetnia’s nobility seemed to severely underestimate them, which granted them the time needed to build up.
If an entire Navy detachment arrived in Treon and reported to General Locke that the Hero had smashed the Silver Wind’s wards like they were parchment, things would change quickly.
By the time Oliver and Neer reached the lighthouse, the galleys were halfway through the harbor and gaining speed, though one was lagging behind. He didn’t need to look to know that it was being hassled and likely boarded by Leonard, who had commandeered a fishing vessel for the effort.
He probably has a reason for not stopping them like he did in Thelma. I’ll have to ask him later.
The lighthouse was a tall, thin building made of the same limestone that comprised most of the port’s facilities. At its top stood a massive sunstone, charged with enough mana to illuminate the night for any vessel braving the dark.
“If they aren’t completely stupid, they’ll have left at least one man to handle the defenses. It should be obvious to anyone that they need to delay the cannons falling into our hands as long as possible.” Neer said from beside him, voice unaltered by the speed they were running at.
The half-orc seemed entirely unbothered by the whole affair. Oliver had seen her fight Sir Gareth for an entire minute in a spar where the two had only used their swords and no mana, which put the woman at a minimum of the peak Third Blessing. More likely, she was close to becoming a full Master.
She didn’t seem to resent having been put on the same task as him. Instead, she wore the same mildly amused expression she always had when looking at anything that wasn’t Sir Leonard. Only then did she shift into a more respectful stance.
Given her power level, she could have easily cleared the lighthouse by now. But she hadn’t, which meant she wanted him to participate in the effort.
Oliver would have been grateful if he could spare the energy. Instead, he channeled mana through his limbs, casting [Lion’s Strength] without speaking the words. Thankfully, Sir Leonard had refreshed his energies, which meant he wouldn’t need to hold back for fear of running low.
A blast of air, unfocused and barely holding together, hit the ground a few feet to his right, and Oliver halted.
Looking ahead, he saw a short figure peeking out of the lighthouse’s topmost window. His enhanced eyesight picked out the details, and he realized the girl there wasn’t much older than him.
She also seemed to be doing her best to murder him, in between sobbing her heart out.
It didn’t take a genius to realize she had been forced to stay behind, likely because she was a lowborn mage and thus had no one to speak on her behalf. She thought she’d die if she allowed the invaders to reach her.
“I’ll deal with the cannons; you take care of the kid.” Neer finally said, and with a burst of speed, she crashed into the heavy wooden door, turning it into dust and splinters.
Oliver followed suit, avoiding two more blasts, this time more focused.
The inside of the lighthouse was almost empty. A wide stone staircase led up to the top, only interrupted by larger platforms where the artillery was placed.
All the cannons face outwards, which meant Neer would need to lug one of them on the opposite side of the staircase and make a hole from which to fire. Oliver didn’t expect it would take her long.
Still, that left the enemy mage free to rain down death upon them, which he couldn’t allow.
Climbing the staircase with such an obvious disadvantage would be stupid under any other circumstance, but it wasn’t like Oliver had any other choice. He still hadn’t learned any flight spell, as those were reserved for Experts and above, and his attempts at learning [Gecko Walk] had been put aside in favor of getting more sparring practice.
He was regretting that now, but he couldn’t afford to waste time on it. He took his sword out, a blueish light emanating from it as he desperately batted away the [Air Bullets] the mage was sending his way.
Occasionally, she’d try to take a potshot at Neer, but all her spells frizzled out upon contact with the half-orc’s skin, so she gave that up, focusing entirely on Oliver.
He had the fleeting thought that if the girl wasn’t even bothering to stop Neer from shooting at the ships, there wasn’t much of a need to risk his life attacking her, but he had been given a duty, and he wouldn’t fail it. He couldn’t dishonor Sir Leonard like that.
“Stay away!” The mage screamed desperately, a vortex of wind swirling around her threateningly. It was a foolish display since Oliver had shown himself more than capable of taking on her attack magic, but it wasn’t like she was being rational in the first place.
Given what usually happened to conquered people, especially young women, she wasn’t entirely wrong to be so afraid. Obviously, Oliver would never do anything like that. He intended on beating her up a bit, maybe into unconsciousness if she didn’t give up first, but he felt it was justified given that she had tried to cave his head in for the past few minutes.
An explosion from the lower levels shook the lighthouse the moment Oliver reached the top floor, and he glanced down to see Neer whoop in joy, evidently having managed to get the cannons working.
image [https://i.postimg.cc/2yF840M4/persimmon0-Muscular-half-orc-warrior-woman-shooting-a-cannon-ou-5d084244-14e5-4e04-b9c1-76208feeccb9.png]
With the mission's primary objective accomplished, he made to finish the rest.
“Please! I’m too thin! I’m ugly! Please!” The girl screamed, feeding more mana into her defensive spell. It was enough that Oliver suspected she’d fall down from exhausting herself in a couple more minutes if he let her keep going, but that was a waste of time, and so he marched forward, sword glowing with how much power he fed it.
His silverite armor showed its worth as the sharp, whipping winds did nothing but harmlessly flow over it, protecting him enough that he could focus on the offensive.
One look at the terrified, glazed-over eyes of his opponent was enough to tell him that talking wasn’t an option, so Oliver did the most efficient thing and brought the flat of his blade down in a heavy blow, sending the girl sprawling to the ground gracelessly. Her magic took a second longer before dispersing as he swung his sword, pushing it outside the large window with his own mana.
He crouched down, putting his hand on the girl’s neck, and sighed upon noticing her heartbeat was still present. He’d need to tie her up before leaving. Then, looking out the window, he saw the results of Neer’s handiwork. Of the four ships, one was already back at the pier, likely having been successfully boarded by the revolutionaries. Two were standing almost still, seemingly paralyzed with indecision, and the last had a massive hole in its side and was slowly sinking below the waves despite the desperate efforts of its crew.
The harbor was taken, the town had fallen.