Chapter 147 – Floor 13: Part 8
For Daphne, the training was brutal. She was brought to her breaking point, both physically and mentally, before it was over. It didn’t help that the weather went from wet and dreary to outright hostile. Gusts of wind that could knock a man off his feet and accompanied by rain so cold that it was nearly snow.
As hard as it was on Daphne, it nearly killed Alfred. If it weren’t for a supply of medicines and curative magics by the garrisoned Mages, supplemented by a significant amount of Elixirs by his false brother Aiden, Alfred would have lost his life in the north.
As it stood, by the time the army was deemed ‘adequate’ by its commanders, the weather had cleared, and Alfred no longer required the assistance of external methods to remain somewhat healthy. Still frail, he was to be in the reserve forces at the rear of the army when it eventually marched.
For now, it was time for them to be ‘blooded.’
With the changing weather, the sun finally appeared, and the ever-present grey clouds dispersed. The weather warmed, and the muddy ground dried. But rather than cheer at the presence of the sun, those stationed at the garrison and the army that prepared to march north felt a sense of unease.
Those who had been posted here for longer than a few seasons knew that the Demi-Beasts would soon attack. Vicious, hungry and eager for the rich lands of Anglia, only the wall and the forces that guarded them protected the kingdom from invasion.
Daphne had never seen a Demi-Beast, but she had read descriptions and seen the creatures' paintings. Half-human and half-animal, they had many species in their ranks. Stronger and more resilient than humans, they also breed rapidly.
Only the organization of humanity kept the tide of Demi-Beasts from overwhelming them, and a single other factor made all the difference. Humans grew stronger upon slaying a Demi-Beast. With each death, Aether would suffice the air and ground, leeching into their bodies and enhancing their abilities and strength.
It was a well-known fact and one of the only reasons that people volunteered to be garrisoned on the wall. Each of the Knights and the members of the Mage Tower had spent time here, fighting and killing Demi-Beasts.
The difference between someone blooded in the conflict and those who had not was significant. The army could not survive the north without first improving themselves in battle on the wall.
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Daphne stood on the castle battlements with the other student mages and looked out over the grassy field to the north. There were no trees for miles, allowing for an unimpeded view of the coming army of Demi-Beasts.
Thousands strong, they were just the vanguard of monsters. These creatures were part of tribes closest to the wall. Daphne leaned over the parapet and allowed her mana to increase her eyesight.
There were several tribes combined for this assault: the Wererats with their human bodies and faces with rat-like ears and long, sharp teeth. They had skin covered in black or grey fur, and they gripped weapons in their long-fingered hands.
There were the Bearfolk, large grizzlies that walked on two legs and used their paws in a similar way to a human. They favoured massive axes and wide-bladed swords. Covered in armour made of iron and steel, these formidable monsters shook the ground as they walked.
Lastly came the Dhampir, their features so similar to a human that they could walk amongst them if it weren’t for the pointy, batlike ears and two long fangs that protruded from their mouths.
It was said that the ancestor Beast of the Dhampir was a blood-drinking bat that had fed on a dying god, gaining immortality and the ability to take on human form. Legends emerged of a creature that haunted the lands east of Europe, feeding on everyone that crossed its path.
Eventually, that monster bred with humans and created the line of Dhampir that crossed the sea and came to Anglia. Supernaturally strong, their only weakness was the lust for blood they shared with their ancestor. It made the other Demi-Beast tribes wary of them.
Daphne turned to look at the garrisoned troops that lined the wall. Dozens of feet off the ground, they wielded spears and crossbows, interspersed by large cannons and the occasional gunpowder rifle. It was a formidable force; the humans outnumbered the Demi-Beasts for now.
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That would likely change when more of the tribes gathered. They needed to eliminate this group as quickly as possible and prepare for the next encounter.
Daphne clenched a staff in her hands; the magical item would enhance the effect of her spells and reduce the fatigue caused by using her magic for extended periods of time. Alfred lacked a staff as he stood next to her, still bundled up in his thick robes and his hood up as if it were winter instead of the middle of summer.
“Why do they bother? Can’t they see that they don’t stand a chance?” Alfred whispered to himself. He didn’t expect an answer, but Marten provided one anyway. The Knight was wearing his armour, the steel polished to a mirror-like finish. He had a tabard over it; the cloth was red and gold with a large griffon on the front.
His sword was belted on his side; Marten didn’t expect to need it today. This battle would be fought with arrows, cannons and spears.
“I doubt they see anything through their haze of bloodlust. We’re facing the cannon fodder, the lowest of the low, the ones that didn’t quite take to their Beast blood. All they care about is reaching us and feeding on our corpses. It’s the ones in the rear that you really need to worry about.” Marten explained, drawing their attention to dozens of black-robed figures in the rear. They were huddled together, talking amongst themselves. Daphne could see a glow of magic around them; several had rune-covered staffs in their hands.
“Shamans. Demi-Beast Necromancers and Warlocks .” Marten stated, spitting after he said the name. He had tangled with them before, and those creatures would be responsible for most of the deaths on the wall.
Alfred leaned forward to study the distant figures more carefully. They had learned about the Demi-Beast Shamans at the University, their strange and unholy dark arts that could drain the life from the world around them.
“They don’t care if they lose their whole force. It’s a win-win situation for them. If they make it through our defences, they’ll have access to the south. If they lose, they’ll gather most of the Aether released here today and use it for their rituals. Bastards.” Marten cursed.
“We should target them directly. Our magics may not reach that far, but I’m sure Aiden could-” Daphne suggested, only to be cut off by Marten.
“The Prince isn’t getting involved in this fight. The army needs to be blooded, not rely on the Prince and his Blessings. It’s for the best; otherwise, once we leave the safety of the walls and head north, you’ll all be too weak to survive.” Marten finished.
There wasn’t much more to say, and their conversation ended when the first of the cannons fired their salvo toward the approaching Demi-Beasts. Great gouts of fire shot toward the air and showered dirt, debris and bodies onto the field.
Daphne felt the stones beneath her feet shake with every shot from the giant cannons. Their large iron balls would leave gouges into the ground, crushing everything in their path before the explosive inside detonated, leaving nothing but a crater behind.
The Demi-Beasts didn’t slow their charge; the Dhampirs were the first to enter into the range of the crossbows and rifles. They may lack the weaknesses of some of the other Demi-Beast tribes, such as an allergy to silver or an aversion to fire, but that didn’t mean they were immune to arrows and bullets.
Daphne saw the crossbow bolts fly toward the enemy, darkening the sky above with their number before landing. Hundreds fell immediately, while hundreds more were injured. Another volley reached the Demi-Beasts, along with more cannon fire, before the first of the Dhampir leapt onto the wall.
The enchanted stones sizzled and cracked, burning the flesh of the Demi-Beasts as they stubbornly clung to the side of the wall. Climbing up swiftly, they were met with more crossbows and silver-tipped spears that drove them back or flung them from the wall, where they landed on the ground dozens of feet below.
Only a handful of Dhampir remained by the time the Wererats and Bearfolk reached the wall. These were quickly finished off, and the humans turned their attention to the other tribes. The armour of the Bearfolk was thick, heavy and crude, but it did an adequate job of protecting them.
Of the thousand or so Bearfolk that had assaulted the wall, only a few dozen had died in the initial volleys. These massive creatures were strong and resilient, shrugging off wounds that would have killed a human.
They dug their massive paws into the stone wall in supernatural strength and rapidly ascended. Met by spears and crossbow bolts, the Bearfolk were only momentarily stopped before they reached the top. Their losses mounted as they began to carve their way through the army; each Bearfolk that died took nearly half a dozen men and women with them.
By the time the battle was over, the sun was beginning to set. The top of the wall and the field in front of it were covered in bodies. Thousands of humans had died, along with every single one of the Demi-Beasts that assaulted them.
The Shamans had fled, taking with them whatever Aether they could recover and growing stronger for their next assault. The losses here meant nothing to them. There would always be more Demi-Beasts to hurl against the wall, while Aether was much more precious.
That night, when Daphne was in her bed trying to sleep, she couldn’t shake the images from the day's events. This was just a prelude to what was to come. Thousands of deaths were just the price that needed to be paid in order to grow stronger.
And it was effective. Everyone who fought could feel the power of the Aether around them; their muscles improved, and the mana within their bodies became denser.
When sleep finally came, it was interrupted by strange chants erupting into the night.
The shamans had returned.