Arriving at a battle already underway was a completely different experience from anything they had done before.

Libby had warned him it would be bad, but she had failed to capture the true horror of it. The elevated viewing position left nothing to the imagination.

They had seen the smoke in the distance almost immediately. Within a mile, they could hear and finally… see it.

A three-way battle was not something Bert had ever even considered from a simple logistics point of view. He was used to the images from movies, and T.V. shows where two armies lined up and charged each other.

But, here, as the three houses fought, they formed a triangle, with lines of archers and mages on the back lines while the warriors battled in a wedge shape. House Omis used something like the shield wall or testudo. Large interlocked shields provided cover while the tired and injured were pulled deeper into the wedge and lifted shields to cover from arrows and spells.

House Magnus seemed to favor the more traditional knights, the sword and board warriors with the occasional greatsword or great axe in the mix.

The strangest of the lot was house Jura, who seemed to be using a mix of pikemen and spears with round shields. They were definitely getting the worst of it as they simply were never going to get anywhere with pikemen in a melee. To make matters worse, their round shields were small and light, so the arrows and spells found plenty of breaks to push through. Jura seemed to make up for this with pure numbers. They had almost three times the numbers of House Magnus and Omis combined. Only the sheer superiority of gear and tactics kept the two houses from being overwhelmed by pure numbers.

Flashes of magic on the front lines confirmed there were at least a few close combat mages in the mix for all three houses.

Fires burned around the battlefield as the Juras threw more and more bodies into the teeth of the other two houses. Omis’ shield wall was holding well, while Magnus seemed to be losing ground somewhat.

Bert caught movement out of the corner of his eye and turned, seeing a full cavalry charge coming up from behind the Jura lines. They had circled far wide of the battle and used trees for cover.

The Jura forces never saw them coming.

Pikemen were the perfect answer to cavalry. Hell on earth, that was the whole reason they were developed.

But only if they were facing the right way.

The rumbling of the hooves alerted the Jura mages and archers at the last moment, sending them scrambling. Bert saw flashes as several of the mages used some form of short-range teleport.

The back line of pikemen tried to swing their ungainly weapons into position, but most of their pikes were still pointing to the sky when the cavalry hit them at full charge.

Bert winced; the screams of the trampled rising above the sounds of battle for a moment. Few things are more visceral than seeing a line of human bodies hit by an armored horse at full speed.

Even if it was impossible at this distance, Bert swore he could hear the bones snapping as the back line was ridden down, several of them sent flying backward by the force of the impact before they were ridden down.

The bowing line of house Magnus opened for the cavalry riding through. It had been a feint. They allowed themselves to be pressured by House Jura to keep their attention while their cavalry completed their flanking move.

Bert had to guess that Jura had just lost a third of their numbers in under a minute.

Bert forced himself to look away from the battle; they still needed to find somewhere to set up and start helping people.

“Where we headed?” Bell asked.

“No idea,” Bert growled. “Anywhere I can see, at least one group will be cut off from getting to us.”

“So?” Bell asked. “Some healing is better than none, right?”

Bert suddenly grinned.

“Oooh, I like that smile,” Bell giggled. “It means you want to do something insane.”

“It’s not insane,” Bert beamed, “But it is going to piss everybody off.”

“Tell me!” Bell demanded.

Bert pointed, and Bell cheered.

Bert loved to make an entrance and felt like this was one of his best…

Bell flashed the signal as they crested the final rise between them and the battlefield.

Wendy let out a long, loud blast of the air horn on the Express. Several of the backline soldiers turned and cheered.

The horn blasted again as the Waystation gained speed on the downgrade of the rise. More cheers, ones that turned to dismay as the horn kept blowing, and the Waystation was not slowing.

“They will move!” Bert told himself.

“Who cares?” Bell gasped. “Either way!”

They did move, curses and even a few spells flying at them as they barrelled full speed into the area between Houses Magnus and Omis. The houses’ lines scrambled apart, and the Waystation kept on rolling until they pushed back the lines of house Jura.

Silence fell over the Battlefield, just for a second, as the Waystation came to a stop.

Horns blew frantically as the three armies disengaged. Chaos reigned as everyone tried to figure out what was going on. Cheers, curses, spells, everything came flying as the officers fought to get their men back in line.

Bert beamed.

“Now that’s an entrance!” He chuckled. “Want to go meet the locals?”

“You do it,” Bell said. “I want to get started organizing things with Dee.”

“You got it,” Bert winked as he hopped on the elevating platform.

“I bet someone shoots you!” Bell called after him.

============

Bert, Bud, and the orcs strode confidently down the drawbridge.

“Back! Up!” Bert yelled at the milling soldiers. “We need space to set up!”

He shooed the mystified soldiers back as they set up stakes on that side before circling the Waystation doing the same thing.

“They’re going to kill us!” May snapped at him as he strode past with the last of the spikes on his shoulder.

“I doubt it!” Bert called back. “They would have tried that already.”

And he was right; no one interfered with them as they set up camp. In under an hour, the entire camp was set up and working. Four of the healers were out in the Jura area as soon as it was safe. They worked in the fallout of the cavalry charge, stabilizing whoever could be saved.

The full healing would come later.

Bert and Wendy were the on-shift healers, with Bruno and May as translators if necessary, when the three leaders turned up to demand answers.

“Healer!” A woman in Jura colors called to Wendy, “Where is the person in charge?”

Wendy just pointed at Bert while she concentrated on fixing her patient.

The woman nodded and led the others over to Bert.

“You are in charge here?” She asked.

“Of the Waystation, yes.” Bert nodded. “If you want the leader of the Healers, she’s scraping up the cavalry charge’s leftovers.”

“Which one rammed the fucking thing into our battle?” The man in Magnus armor growled.

This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.

“Oh, that was me.” Bert nodded to him.

“Care to explain?” House Jura asked.

“Anywhere we set up, one House would have to cross enemy lines to get to us.” Bert shrugged. “Except here.”

The representative of House Omis began to laugh.

“I won’t stand for this!” House Magnus bristled.

“What are you going to do about it?” Bert said coldly, looking at the man for the first time.

“I challenge you to personal combat!” The man declared proudly and began to remove his gauntlet.

“I accept,” Bert grinned. “But slap me with that gauntlet, and I’m gonna shove it so far up your ass you will taste the fingers.”

Wendy snickered as the man blustered.

“What are the rules?” Bert asked the woman from House Jura.

“No interference, no seconds, and the fight continues until one dies or submits.” She raised an eyebrow. “I warn you, if someone submits and you kill them, that is a grave crime.”

“Good to know, ta!” Bert smirked.

“We will fight tonight, healer!” House Magnus snarled.

“No,” Bert said. “Now. Here.”

“What?” The man chuckled. “I am a Warrior! A Captain! You surely wish for time to prepare.”

“No thanks,” Bert said. “Now.”

“You challenged him,” House Omis said. “It is his choice.”

“Fine!” House Magnus growled.

Bert led the little group and the following crowd to a clear space in front of the Healer’s tent. He chuckled as he saw money changing hands.

“I’m Mary, House Jura.” The woman said as they walked. “That is Reginald the third or something of House Omis.”

“He knows he can use Analyse on people, right?” Bert asked casually.

“Who, Magnus?” Mary laughed. “It would never occur to him.”

“I did wonder,” Bert shrugged as the level 19 Captain got into his full armor.

“I have to ask, why provoke him?” Reginald asked.

“Because he came here looking for a fight. This way, it is all over with, and we can get on with our job.” Bert said. “Also, he had no idea I saved his ass.” he looked at Reg, who suddenly seemed distracted.

Bert had seen the mages and archers in house Omis colors retreating from their flanking position as he barrelled towards the lines. Another few minutes and House Magnus would have been in deep shit.

“Try not to kill him,” Reg sighed. “He is an heir of House Magnus.”

“He’s Magnus Magnus, isn’t he?” Bert grinned. “A name so nice, they used it twice.”

Mary turned away, coughing as Reginald laughed openly.

Magnus preened as he limbered up. Bert strolled into the circle of watchers and shrugged his armor on, pulling it directly out of his storage. He slid his shield on his arm and waited.

“We will begin once you finish dressing!” Magnus called.

“I’m good.” Bert nodded.

“Nonsense!” Magnus bellowed. “Where is your helm?”

“I don’t have one,” Bert shrugged. He had always planned to make one but had never gotten around to it.

“We can not fight if you are unarmored!” He laughed.

“He’s right,” Mary called. “Law requires you to have a complete set of armor.”

“You're kidding?” Bert asked.

“It stops people from challenging commoners who have no armor, just to kill them,” Reginald said.

“Huh, good law.” Bert nodded. “Can I borrow a helm?”

“No,” Mary said. “And if you can not fight after already accepting the challenge, you will be killed.”

“Not such a good Law,” Bert frowned.

“Wait!” Bell came flying over. “Use this!” She giggled and slapped a bronze pot on his head. Bert laughed, turning the handle to a jaunty angle.

He regretted it immediately as a white flash flowed over the item.

Helm of the Garbage Man

In a time of great need… a pot can save your life!

Soul-Bound.

Unbreakable.

Self Repairing.

Will never fall off.

“Fuck sake, Bell!” he growled as she flew off giggling.

Mary seemed to be having trouble staying upright as she bent over, laughing silently while a tear rolled down Reg’s cheek.

“You mock me!” Magnus growled.

“Nah, mate,” Bert sighed. “This is just the way it goes for me.” He shrugged. “The life and times of a garbage man, I guess.”

“For this insult, I will give you no time to surrender!” Magnus launched himself across the ground.

Bert had no time to change his hand, simply raising his shield to meet the overhand swing of Magnus’ sword. The metal clanged, and Bert stepped back, avoiding the swipe from Magnus’ own shield.

He kicked Magnus in the leg and spun away, reaching back with his shield to block the backhand slash of the sword.

He kept spinning, crossing the small space, and then launched into a shield charge, catching Magnus off guard and sending him sprawling to the ground.

Magnus rolled upright, stabbing forward with his sword and sending three copies of the blade flying across the ground. Bert blocked one and dodged another, but the third scraped across his back, scoring a long line. He felt the blood begin to flow.

There was a scream behind Bert, and he turned to see two men holding wounds in their stomachs from the swords. The idiot had sent the spell into the crowd.

“Watch where you are throwing abilities, idiot!” Bert yelled.

“Oh, shall I?” Magnus laughed. He spun and launched the attack twice more. Six magical blades sliced through the air toward the crowd.

Bert decided he had been patient enough, his knotwork flaring as he dropped into the mana tides. He pushed a Surge tide into his shield and held it with the Ebb tide, causing the Shield to enlarge to five times its size.

He used the massive shield to block all but one of the blades, which he reached out and grabbed with his Prosthetic arm. It shuddered in his grip and then disappeared, the Ebb tide sucking the mana out of the construct. Bert had no idea it could do that and had just grabbed on instinct, but he tried to pretend it was his plan all along.

He gathered energy on the Ebb tide, then launched into a sprint on the Surge tide, a full-powered Shield Charge sending Magnus to his knees even as he tried to block it.

Bert smashed his fist into Magnus’ face, not bothering to empower the blow. Magnus crumpled.

The fight over, Bert turned and started to heal the injured parties. He used a single deer carcass to do it; none of the wounds were too bad.

Bert turned back, seeing Magnus trying to rise. He released the tides and stored his shield as he walked over, offering the man a hand up.

Magnus slapped the hand away.

“I win,” He growled. “You turned from the fight, and I never surrendered.”

“You were unconscious, idiot; the fight was over.”

“Call it a draw,” Mary called. “No loss on either side.”

“Sure,” Bert shrugged. “Works for me.” He offered Magnus his hand again.

Magnus spat on it.

Bert leaned down, and Magnus paled; the man standing over him was not the easygoing idiot of a moment ago. Something cold and burning in his eyes told Magnus he had gone too far.

“Don’t fuck around, mate,” Bert said, smiling cruelly. “I’ll gladly rip off each one of your arms and legs while your men watch.”

Bert stood again, chuckling, and held out his hand.

Magnus took it, too afraid not to.

Bert pulled him to his feet and hugged him in a friendly way.

“Pull any shit again while I am here, and I will kill you.” Bert released him, and once again, Magnus looked into the eyes of a man who could and would kill him at the slightest provocation. “Analyze me,” Bert commanded, and Magnus did.

He paled even more.

Bert was ten levels more powerful, a Lord of the Fae, and held not one but two classes Magnus had never even heard of before. Magnus finally got it as Bert smiled, a smile that never reached his eyes. Bert could have killed him instantly. There was no fight. He did it to let Magnus save face.

“I apologize for my actions, Lord!” Magnus bowed deeply, turned on his heel, and left as quickly as he could.

An hour later, Bert was resting as Seb and Felix took over healing duties.

“What the hell was with that guy,” Bert muttered as he and Bell sat in the Barn, sharing a snack plate.

“He was a dick,” Bell shrugged.

“Yeah, but I really scared the shit out of him,” Bert shivered. “He looked at me like I was some sort of monster.”

“You are,” Bell said happily. “To them, at least.” She saw the look on his face. “Look, Bert, I know it bothers you, but you are Fae. More and more every day, you think like a Fae. Not a human. They can see that in your eyes, and it scares them.”

“Do you think I’m a monster?” Bert asked.

“No, I think you’re like the nicest guy I ever met.” She looked away. “I would have killed his entire army just for spitting on me.”

Bert laughed.

“I’m not joking.” She said quietly.

“I know, that’s why it’s so funny,” Bert grinned.

Bell giggled, blushed, snarled ‘stop it,’ and slapped Bert before flying away.

Bert sat with his mouth open for a second and then shrugged.

Pixie’s gonna Pixie.

==============

Anton tried again while Maggie scowled over his shoulder.

“You’re missing something!” She snapped.

“I have copied the form exactly!” Anton hissed through gritted teeth.

“Then why isn’t it working?” She demanded.

“I don’t know!” Anton threw the bit of wood across the tent.

Piles of wood were all over the place.

On a small camping table, a complex spell form was projecting the Chill Rune into the air.

The pair had been trying to activate the projected rune for the last day. No matter how they conformed their magic to the shape, nothing happened. They had tried to put mana into the projection, but that didn’t work either.

Their next step had been to try and copy the rune precisely onto a new piece of wood. Even that would be enough.

Piles of discarded attempts showed their lack of success.

“Cast another magnification spell!” Anton demanded.

“It’s pointless!” Maggie said but did it. The Rune enlarged, filling the room.

Anton got a magnifier and traced each line as best he could, finding no imperfections or hidden subrules.

“We have copied it perfectly!” Anton swore and slammed his hand onto the desk, wincing at the pain.

Maggie sighed and waved her hand, healing him.

“Intention!” Anton yelled, surging to his feet again. “We need to add intention!”

He got another piece of wood, copying the rune with exaggerated care before placing his hand on it. He poured not only mana but his will into the rune.

“Well?” Maggie asked.

Anton growled.

He strained until the sweat stood out on his bald head, and his eyes began to waver.

“If anything, it’s warmer,” Maggie laughed at him.

Anton passed out, dropping to the floor.