Since the advent of modern militarized magical doctrine, most commanders discounted the possibility of sneak attacks on large camps, as they would inevitably shatter on the wards set up by the Mage Corps. There was some value in attacking smaller groups that couldn’t sustain protections for long, as the Revolution had demonstrated time and again, but for entire armies, it was considered a folly.
Luke was well aware that General Locke would be even more paranoid than usual. The man had been given much more than a black eye. It wouldn’t be wrong to describe his defeat as the loss of a limb.
The entirety of Treon’s cavalry was gone, along with a third of the infantry and, according to the latest reports, a good chunk of the mages were suffering from the side effects of overusing their mana to cover the retreat.
All of this was a perfect recipe for disaster, and the General knew it.
Which meant he would be very paranoid and unlikely to welcome anything but good news. It was lucky, then, that it was good news Luke wanted to bring him.
Around twenty of his best men were marching through the drying pasture alongside him. He would have liked to bring more, but that would have been suspicious. After all, they had fought against the Hero for a long time before the reinforcements arrived, and no matter how talented he might be as a commander, he couldn’t get out of that without losing most of his force.
Seeing the hill the General had chosen in the far distance, Luke took a deep breath and prepared to go through the performance of his life.
“Getting cold feet?” A low voice asked from behind.
“If he learns what we are doing, court-martial will be the furthest prospect. He’ll make a spectacle out of us.” Luke replied.
“I’m not talking about the General. As far as I know, your acting skills should be more than enough for that.” The man who had almost killed him replied.
Luke snorted. Yes, there was the little problem that he had chosen to dispense of the obvious checks and wariness the camp’s guards would hold through a pretty dangerous scheme.
In his pocket, the little enchanted bell burned. He hadn’t expected Archmage Franklin to be in the camp, much less to volunteer to work on his project. He hadn’t even known she had defected. But that just went to show how unstoppable the Revolution was. An Ascended, two Champions, and who knew how many other powerhouses would be enough to set fire to half the known world.
With a deep breath, Luke put those considerations aside and took the bell out. A look around told him his men were ready. [Resurrection] had seen their wounds healed, but for this operation to succeed, they needed to sell that they had been running ever since the battle. Thus, everyone had cut themselves up, bleeding freely on their clothes.
Now, for the hard part.
*Ring* *Ring*
The little bell rang surprisingly loud. It was a magical sound, which slithered and stretched unnaturally, reaching for the creature they were told should be somewhere below their feet.
As promised, it only took a minute before the earth started to shake.
This far west, the swampy ground had been reclaimed through the centuries and turned into green pasture. That had sent the monsters most dependent on the habitat fleeing east, where the numerous ponds and underground rivers could fulfill their needs.
However, the oldest and most powerful denizens cared little for the change. Fourth tier creatures that could survive without ever reaching the surface, living in dank caverns and deep tunnels, could have been alive before Treon was ever settled and not have noticed the changes on the surface.
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The little enchanted bell was an intelligent way of getting only one of those creatures’ attention. Even Luke wouldn’t have dared go through with his plan if Archmage Franklin hadn’t reassured him that it would only be noticeable to their chosen target.
The ground beneath Luke's feet trembled violently, the earth groaning as it was forced to yield to the immense power approaching from below. His heart pounded in his chest, and he took a deep breath to steady his nerves. The beast they had settled on was far more than a simple distraction; it was a force of nature. Calling upon a Greater Salamander was a considerable risk, and he couldn’t rightly promise to his men they would come out of this alive.
They had all accepted without hesitation.
Luke would have to do something for his men if they got through this operation. Maybe buy a round of drinks, once he got his first salary.
Elara will reverse-haunt me if I die on this stupid plan.
Without further warning, the surface erupted, dirt and grass flying into the air as a monstrous shape broke through.
It was a terrifying sight, twenty feet long and weighing over ten tons, its massive form rippling with muscle and raw power. The creature's skin was a mottled blue-green, glistening with moisture, and thin glowing lines ran across its back, converging on seemingly blind eyes. Luke knew well that it could track a mana signature for miles if it decided to. It was just that deep underground there was no need to see light.
The salamander roared, the sound of a landslide crashing down, and the air around it began to hum as its presence unfurled. As it emerged fully from the hole, it took a moment to orient itself, then began to follow the sound of the bell, drawn by the enchantment. Luke stopped feeding it mana; its job was done.
"Run! Now!" He shouted to his men, who were already beginning to flee toward the distant hill where Treon's army was camped. Despite having already expected it, the sight of the gigantic beast had sent a wave of real panic through them, but they managed to keep their formation, running as fast as they could.
Being all Journeymen, their pace was fast enough that a creature used to grabbing its meals with earth magic rather than chasing them down wouldn’t catch up—as long as they didn’t get hit by a spell.
Luke took up the rear, his eyes never leaving the monstrous creature. He swung his sword and sent a series of air slashes toward the salamander, hoping to slow it down. The beast shrugged off the attacks as if they were nothing more than a mild annoyance, but it momentarily slowed it, allowing the men to gain some precious distance.
It didn’t last long. The ground began to shake again as the salamander advanced, and Luke found himself narrowly avoiding several sudden holes that appeared in his path. Each time, he had to leap aside or alter his course to avoid being swallowed by the earth. The creature's control over the elements was shown in every step it took, the very landscape bending to its will.
At least it’s mostly focused on me. As long as I can keep it from attacking the others, I should be good. Its raw power is greater than mine, but I’m much more versatile.
The only other man in range was Gareth Doomspear, the revolutionary general sent by the Grand Marshal to keep an eye on things. Rather than helping—and Luke had little doubt that he could help since he personally had to deflect lightning bolts powerful enough to cripple the salamander during their duel—he remained hidden, watching the chaos unfold.
Luke hadn’t expected any help, as they agreed the man would keep his disguise until the very last moment. Still, he was clearly enjoying the spectacle, taking pleasure in seeing Luke so distressed and on the edge of disaster. It wasn’t exactly malicious. More schadenfreude, really. It just wasn’t helpful at the moment.
Despite the danger, Luke pressed on, occasionally sending a new wind blade to force the salamander back when it got too close. He couldn’t really harm it, especially since every time he scored a hit on a softer spot, it immediately regenerated, but it didn’t seem to enjoy pain, likely not having experienced such a sensation in a long time.
The hill loomed closer, and he saw activity picking up as the scouts noticed the approaching group and the giant monster chasing them. He silently prayed that they would hold their fire until he and his men were clear.
This was the second most dangerous part of the plan. If someone behind the artillery got too scared, they could also be blasted into smithereens, and then Doomspear would have to break cover to defend them, making the whole operation useless.
Luckily, the commander seemed to have nerves of steel because while the cannons were readied in record time, no one shot until Luke and his men reached the bottom of the hill.
“Who goes there?!” A loud voice called, and while he would have liked to snort, Luke kept his voice authoritative “Captain Luke Smith of the advanced forces! Let us in!” It took a long second, in which everyone held their breath. Then, another voice rumbled for them to be allowed behind the wards, and a gap was formed, which the fleeing soldiers rushed through.
Several cannon rounds were then fired at the salamander, their thunderous reports echoing across the landscape. The beast tanked the hits with surprising ease, absorbing the impacts with a bellow of confusion rather than pain.
In response to the unexpected attack, the salamander reared back, roaring, and launched a series of mud balls up the hill. Each broke apart against the shimmering wards that protected the camp but significantly shook them. The force of the impacts sent shockwaves through the air, and the defenders scrambled to reinforce their barriers.
The camp was buzzing like an anthill under attack by now, and Luke spied what had to be the few remaining mages with enough mana to be useful to prepare a response. They certainly hadn’t been expecting to have to cast again so soon after the Battle of the Swamp.
A full-on fight erupted, with the soldiers of Treon's army rallying to repel the monstrous invader. Luke and his men, having reached the safety of the hill, were allowed through and quickly reached the backlines, where a familiar man greeted them.
“I have to thank you, Captain Vokoss. I don’t know what I would have done if they didn’t let us in.” Luke exhaled, genuinely tired from the chase.
“Oh, don’t worry, Captain Smith. The General is in such a bad mood that your turning up alive might shield me from excessive scrutiny. He’s been trying to find a culprit for how poorly the battle went.” The nobleman replied almost cheerfully.
That was when the salamander smashed against the ward with the force of a tidal wave, cracking the protections. Spells started to fly at it, but Luke stopped caring. They were in.