Chapter 12 – Battle of the Spire Fields

General Ogdor’s Point of View

It is morning and our men have worked throughout the night to entrench along a series of hills facing east. While it might be true that our forces are best suited to calvary, it would seem our allies have vanished in the woods. Our messengers report of enemy forces moving throughout the woods and contact with Lord Rall has not been re-established. Any messengers sent, fail to arrive, or at least report back.

My scouts have found evidence of saboteurs in the region. Our surviving ‘guests’ have provided a better identification for our enemies. It would seen that the loose alliance of nations have found agreement on a title. The Alliance of Velia, Forces of the Light. Supposedly goblins and skeletons raided several villages for many weeks now. They’ve been using the colors and markings of House Rall.

Now is this true? I have not one idea. What I do know is that Lord Rall would never do such an action that would unite our foes so thoroughly against us. Such attacks merely inflate volunteers and retributive thoughts amongst the foes. The King’s plan was to attack the supply lines and soft military targets. Perhaps there was a misunderstanding between the goblin troops and the ordering officers?

What’s more, an anti-magic field has been dampening the region as of midnight. Someone very powerful is preventing non-physical means of communication or ranged scrying. In short, what few mages we have are relegated to close range casting.

I strum my fingers on a table. Across the tent is Ugul, stretched out and sunning in the morning rays. I voice my thoughts so far, “[I do not like this. We can’t report, we can’t scout, and we can’t scry. Our allied goblins have not arrived and have likely died to the enemy forces in the woods.]

My planner, my beloved, rolls over to face me. “[We would have to move as a force to escape. So, I suggest we stay until the afternoon, then leave at night. At the very least until our dead villagers are properly buried.”]

My tail slaps the ground behind me a few times out of frustration. [“We’re giving up on the King’s plan. I hate this, but my gut says we have to. If the enemy arrives in significant force, we will commit to a brief fight before a mounted retreat. If the sun sets before then, we mount and leave. Pass the word.”]

Planner Ugul leaps up and salutes, “[Yes sir Master General.]” They take one step out the door before a trumpet calls out in alarm. I nearly knock my table over as Ugul turns back to me, “[Enemy already here, will still pass orders?]” With a nod towards them, I begin to gear up for combat then make my way outside my tent.

Profoundly proud. That is how I feel about my men as I pass them in the trenches made merely hours ago. From them, we can ambush the enemy as they top the hills. It’s the best we can do without the goblin army to help. Surprise the foe and gain kills before fleeing.

I make my way up to the observation platform atop our earthworks. “[Report,]” I simply state to the watchmen on duty. The horizon seems empty, yet the skinny watchman looks winded from having blown the horn so much. Sickly even, of fear. Perhaps from the stress of impending combat? He must be a rookie.

The trooper simply points towards the empty horizon. “There isss enemy presssence there, sssir.” I furrow my crest a little at his use of common tongue. My concern is crushed when dust suddenly billows up and the far away terrain twists then lifts up. A wall to stop our advance?

Wait a second, that much movement of rock and soil by magic will… “[BRACE FOR QUAKE!]” I yell to the camp.

Mere seconds later the shift hits our position with a deafening roar. I feel something pierce my back at the exact moment the tremor hits. With the speed of a war-beast, I turn to find the rookie with a bloodied weapon. A moment later, the platform gives way and my awareness ends.

Moments later I am back to my senses, lifting myself out of a pile of rubble that was the platform. I can feel blood running down my back as the sounds of cries for help arise from collapsed trenchworks and structures. Though soon they are overwhelmed by the sound of battle from within the camp.

“[They snuck in somehow?]” I pull my sword free of its scabbard with my one working arm as I rush to the nearest fight. Only to find our own men fighting each other. I step in to try and break the fight apart.

“[Sir, I did not start this, Torriq has already killed Aldwa! Help me! He has gone mad!]” The hostile Torriq swings down and nearly takes Aldwa’s neck if not for a swift parry. I step in and knock the traitor to the back of the head. Once he falls, I look towards Aldwa with a color of concern on my ridges.

“[This is not the only place this seems to be happening. Pass the word for all sane troops to make way to the command tent. Try not to kill our own, they are clearly bewitched.]” Suddenly a sword comes up from below and into Aldwa’s gut. He simply looks down in shock before falling back.

I bring my own sword down into Torriq’s heart as swift retribution before even having a second thought. “[What madness is this? Even unconscious he moved.]” Making haste I rush to the command tent, yelling out my orders as I arrive.

Soon a small gathering are following me towards the command tent. Yet, having to kill our own out of necessity is taking its toll on our morale. The madness seems to have impacted half of our troops. My heart jumps as we reach a sane-guarded war tent. Planner Ugul yells out jubilantly seeing me hale and whole. “[Master General! I am very glad you are alright. Our men are fighting each other to the death.]”

“[Unfortunately. I, several of us, have tried knocking troops unconscious. They are still capable of combat. We had to kill our own just to get here. Myself, I was back stabbed by the watchman who rang the alarm.]”

“[Master General, this is the work of a mage. I recognize the spell from my readings. It is True Marionette. Yet, I’ve never seen nor heard of it employed on more than one or two victims. This is our entire camp.]”

“[A mage who can do that and lift several square kilometers of terrain. Coordinated casting. So, either it’s a very powerful enemy mage squad working in tandem or an enemy army of mages. This is madness.]”

The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“[Our own mages are unable to counter the spell. Two have died trying. We have one left who refuses to approach the insane.]”

“[Shit. Have them cast protection on us in case the foe tries to puppeteer more of us. Then, we retreat from this bowl of death. Send the flare to alert King Rall, even if this isn’t the hero, it is a foe we cannot deal with.]”

In the distance, I see another flare. Not ours but from the south. The Demon King. “[That color… They’ve engaged the hero? Or someone like this foe. Send the flare anyways. We flee for the mountain pass. Clearly this is unwinnable.]”

“[Master General, of course. We will gather the mounts. It will take time. The puppeteered individuals are actively moving to cut us off from access. They are organizing on that side of the camp. Our own have begun to gather here and I am afraid there may be no other choice.]”

“[I know, Ugul. I know.]” I whisper to them and pat their shoulder. “[SOLDIERS!]” I bellow out as my frilled ridges flare red with anger.

> Activate Trait: Fearless Leader

>

> Activate Skill: Motivational Speech Level 37

“[Our brothers and sisters have been controlled by a very powerful group of mages. It is impossible to save them, they are already dead. Those are animated bodies with no soul. Know that killing them is not a sin or a crime. You are doing their bodies the honor of death and justice for the indignity!]"

Ugul looks at me, as does a few others along the frightened mage. They know I’m only saying this to make it easier. They aren’t dead at all, but we have no other choice. “[We move to secure our mounts and make for the mountain pass. We will meet with the Demon King there.]” There is a murmur of depressed yes-sirs in response.

I know how they feel, we’ve been here almost entirely for no reason but to die. Those bastards who killed the villagers were punished at least. Speaking of which… “[Ugul, the prisoners. If I recall we only had three survive the night. Where are they now?]”

“[Master General, the prisoners were immediately slain by their guards when they were turned insane. It seems the mages have no qualms for friendly casualties.]”

This just gets better and better. I simply nod affirmatively and move towards my tent. “[We move in two minutes,]” I order. Ugul follows me and helps gather some documents, and other items of importance, with me.

Soon we are making our way through the camp. Occasionally we come across a buried soldier, sane, still alive. They’re swiftly dug out and brought into our group. As we approach the enemy formation in front of the stables, we form an offensive line of a few hundred lizardmen against what appears to be twice as many enemies.

“[Remember!]” another officer bellows out, “[They are no longer the kin you knew. You must steel yourself and run them through.]” I mentally note to promote that man when we get out. If we get out.

The two lines of troops charge at each other, our own keeping a tight formation to make better use of our fighting strength. The controlled seem to be extremely coordinated, though they move like a group of automations. Slow and telegraphing their attacks.

Combat is swift, our only weakness being hesitation to kill faces we knew. People we once sat and ate with. No effort is made by the foe to take advantage of their numbers. It is like the mages take pleasure in our murdering of kinfolk. At the end of everything, my last kill is a young soldier. I had spoken to him not two weeks ago. My heart hurts as much as my body aches.

“[Don’t,]” Ugul whispers to me.

I shake my head to refocus. “[This is harder than any fight I’ve had.]”

“[I know. It is for all of us. Be proud your troops, following you into such a terrible thing. Now, let us quit this place.]”

We make our way to the giant salamanders. Our wonderful war beasts are still very much alive and, despite my silent concerns, not hostile. It takes no time to bridle the colorful lizards. “[We need to leave, but before we do. Ugul, please us your Animal Speech skill to convey to the remaining Salamanders: burn corpses, flee to woods, make way home.”]

Ugul lowers his head and utters a series of guttural moans and grunts. The salamanders not saddled up are let loose and they begin to purge the camp of the bodies we are leaving behind. I’d do it myself, but I can’t stay here longer. Not with an enemy mage in the area. They’re sure to notice the loss of ‘their’ army.

As we turn to exit, a laughter fills the cauldron-like valley. Our men turn about looking for the source.

“Up here!” a voice says with a clearer tone. All of us look skyward and there stands a halfling. One halfling. “Hey, I sort of forgot to bring an army for the battle so I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed some of your toys?”

[https://i.imgur.com/shh953g.png]

I tighten my grip as anger boils up in my gut. I yell out in common, “Have you no honor? Thisss wasss not a fight. It wasss shameful. Asss were the villagersss deathsss. All of thisss!”

The mage lays down lazily in the air, “Oh I know it was, but I had fun so that’s all that matters. Did you? The rush of emotions were amazing I bet. Yet you had to be true to yourselves! Monsters to the end. Killing your own without hesitation. I. Am. So. Proud. Of. You!”

Someone nearby hurls a spear up in the air – it falls short. The mage goes on to speak, “Please, you know you can’t throw this high. I’m ju~st out of reach, you know? Unless som –“ The mage rolls over to one side as another spear flies past with a red trail of mana. “That. Unless someone has a – “ followed by another.

Suddenly two cracks of lightning come from the sky and strike both spearmen dead. “LET ME FINISH. Unless someone, LIKE THEM, have a skill. In which case, boom! Lightning.” The mage stands up and begins to wander towards the north.

“Anyways, what I really came here to do was offer you something.”

“What could you offer that we would ever want?!”

“Free swimming lessons from yours truly, the world’s greatest mage, Warnana!”

“What?” I and others say stupefied.

“Do I really need to repeat myself? F- R- E- E- swimming lessons. In ice cold water~!” the mage points her finger towards the massive glacier on the other side of the valley. The entire glacier holds back a massive, near freezing lake. Not to mention the ice itself, more than enough water to flood the valley.

“[RIDE! RIDE NOW FOR HIGHER GROUNDS OF THE WOODS.]"

A brief light emanates from the fingertip of the mage, like a beam of red light. She says her skill aloud, "Voiceless Magic Casting, Heat Ray, Level 70."

It strikes the glacier and the ice instantaneously explodes outwards, much of it liquefies midair though large chunks rain down even as far as here. A deafening roar fills the air as we now make towards safety.

“You won’t make it. Well, maybe some of you will make it with a skill or something. I promise not to strike them down if they somehow make it! That’ll be someone else’s problem.”

Warnana is right. I can and so can a few other riders. Not everyone here has the skill or trait or level to make our salamanders faster. Ugul being one of those, as a planner, they have not trained for mounted combat as much. We don’t have time to slow down and transfer safely, not everyone would be able to fit on the Salamanders either.

[“Ogord, I said already I will die alongside you… but I do not want you to die alongside me. I can try to jump onto your mount. If I fail, that’s it.”]

[“No! Stay mounted. We can make it just fine! To abandon my troops to save myself would be dishonorable.”]

Ugul rides closer, up alongside my mount. Before I can talk them down, they’re already grabbing onto my saddle and attempting to transfer over. Already I can see our encampment washed over with the glacial water. We won’t make it.

Some of our men, and I cannot blame them, have used their skills to rush ahead of the group. Much to Warnana’s delight. “Haha~ good! Save yourselves! Be true to that little voice that screams out now, SURVIVE!”

Those riding near me begin shouting at me. “[General! You must survive! You are valuable! Do not die! Use your skills!]” My heart sinks lower and lower. This is wrong. This is so wrong. Warnana joins in with their cries, “Come on~ run! Run faster! Survive! That cold water can’t be good for reptiles!”

“[No one will blame you. You did all you could.]” Ugul whispers, or was it shouting? The roar of the water is too close now. I can feel the spray of cold on my back and hear the yell of slower riders vanish under the waters.

I shout at the top of my lungs as I commit to a decision, “[GODS DAMNIT ALL!]”