Where has Tore run off to? If I had him by my side, this new mage wouldn’t be a problem. Tore could stop them from inflicting so many casualties. As things are, I don’t even dare approach. The air gets so much colder in the direct vicinity of the old albanic woman, that even at my hottest temperature, I’d be concerned.
If Tore were here, he would stop her with nothing more than his sheer presence. There would be no need for a battle. What is so important that he had to abandon me after we made it all this way? Could he not have told me what he was doing before he dashed off?
It’s frustrating that the only solution I have for this entire mess has now up and left me.
The Mercenary Order have let loose their elite, and now the only one who has a chance against them has run off. How many more than this ice mage are unleashing equivalent damage across the defensive line?
Wait, did Tore figure that out the moment he felt that cold wind? Is that why he ran off? Has he gone to protect his kind from one of the Order’s elite? If so, it would have helped if he’d dealt with this mage before rushing off.
This first showing of the elite is not promising. The mage is indiscriminate. Not only do the mermineae fall to the effects of her marking’s spell, but no soldier or mercenary caught in the crossfire is spared the terrifying damage she inflicts.
Her whirlwind of ice builds up again, obscuring her from sight. I’d be glad such a devastating attack requires time to build up if the charge phase didn’t cause widespread death itself. The air is considerably colder now than it was before, even with my inferno baking the land, anything not directly embraced by my flames struggles not to freeze in moments. Just how low will the temperature drop?
The khirig Beith tries to disengage from the sole remaining Viisin now that he knows the ice mage is here, but the Viisin doesn’t let up so easily. The dust covered mermineae chases them across the battlefield as they run for the pact’s defensive side.
Both notice the condensing chill right before another explosive blast of ice and wind tear across the earth. The mermineae is fast, flinging themselves to the side as the air itself solidifies for an instant. Their rear leg, the only thing caught in the central blast, freezes immediately. The next step they take shatters the limb into a thousand shards across the earth.
The khirig with antlers able to withstand direct contact with a Viisin’s decay is not so lucky. Their frozen corpse stands stiff in mid-sprint. Unable to escape the friendly fire in time.
The two came so close to bringing their fight within the line of mercenaries. Did the old mage decide to sacrifice the Beith to protect the thousands who would have died had she either attacked while they were amongst the mercenaries, or would have died by the Viisin’s decay?
She hadn’t launched her beam of ice without care for the other fighter’s life, right?
I’d like to believe she considered the alternatives and chose the option with the least lives sacrificed, but with the power she wields, I can’t help but feel she could have done more. She simply didn’t care if the Beith lived or died.
Are all the Order’s elite like this?
The Viisin finally realises how outmatched it is and flees on three legs. Even though the frozen leg has shattered, it refuses to regrow. The mermineae bounds across the land with speed, and soon it is well off the battlefield, running amongst the rest of the fleeing mermineae.
The frozen wind gathers around the albanic mage again. This time not spinning in a vortex, but directly around her. The elite lifts off the ground, the razor-like wind lifting her with a gentleness not previously shown. The wind carries the old albanic through the air, chasing after the Viisin with little care for any she tramples in her path.
The wind treats her gently, but only her. Icy blades shear through the earth as she accelerates forward, leaving the landscape frozen and shredded.
She is quick to pounce after the fleeing mermineae, but the battle isn’t over. Everything near where she unleashed her storm is frostbitten dead land, but beyond the range of her icicle blade gusts, the invasion continues unabated. So focused on hunting down her prey, she’s forgotten the purpose of her being here.
Nothing remains of each army for hundreds of metres. The earth morphed into a lifeless region of brittle, frozen soil and crystalline formations rising in ringed circles. Without the opaque wind to block my sight, it is clear she cared little for the other mercenaries. Some corpses remain standing, frozen and mangled, but most are nothing more than feet and the boots they wore, reaching up from the earth toward bodies that no longer exist.
I saved hundreds, but the effects of that ice storm extend further than my inferno could spread.
There is nothing blocking my path, so I bound forward. I can’t let myself be distracted by the fighting here. The longer it takes to convince the Mercenary Order, the greater the battle will grow, the more unnecessary lives lost.
If it were possible for the elite to go forward and end this war themselves, a few lives lost now might not be the biggest issue. But it’s not. Kalma won’t let it end that easy. I don’t know how the merminea assault will compete if there are even a few of these elite mercenaries. I only know they will compete. Whether Kalma herself enters the battle, or she does something else, only time will tell.
Time that I’m wasting by staying on this war-front.
I sprint forward, blasting myself with the occasional burst of physical flame. By the time I push into the area where the ice mage once stood, the chilly air threads through my core. This is colder than anything I’ve ever felt. It’s like the very air refuses to move out of my way as I run. My white flames work overtime to heat the surroundings enough to stop the stiff air from holding me back.
I’m not the only one taking advantage of the hole in the battle line. The mermineae at my sides rush to fill the gap, to push their advantage and attack the flanks of the pact nations. Mercenaries rush to fill the gaps, but they are slow compared to the mermineae’s quadruped sprint.
The number of soldiers is immense. It is clear the Mercenary Order has thrown everything into this battle, but these numbers are concerningly large. I’m sure the death count for this war is already on unimaginable levels, so where exactly are they fielding these armies?
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
The only answer I can come to does nothing but push me to reach the headquarters faster.
With the air as unbelievably cold as it is, I almost miss the approaching heat signature flying toward my back.
I blast a jet of flame to the side and the Viisin’s dust covered claws miss me by a good metre. It has all four limbs, so it clearly isn’t the one the elite went chasing after, but I still glance over my shoulder, just in case. This Viisin must have come in from the sides with the other opportunistic mermineae.
I don’t have the time to sit around and fight. I dash off, pushing an immense amount of flames behind to give myself as much thrust as possible. The Viisin reacts instantly, hurtling after me. I’m forced to dodge again, sacrificing all my speed.
Fine, if you won’t let me go, then I’ll make this quick.
My flame jet reverses and I tear toward the Viisin before it can truly react. I crash through his side, incinerating his arm, head and much of his torso. It is painful, and I stagger as my feet hit the ground. The Viisin collapses, but his body is already recovering. I twist and try to cover the decaying mermineae with my hottest flame.
I don’t know how it knew the flames were coming, or if it simply tried to gain space, but the headless creature kicks the ground and launches away from my blaze.
My flames twist around me in frustration. I’d hoped to finish the Viisin with that, but it looks like it won’t be so easy. I leap toward the mermineae as its head finally recovers, but it is now wise to the danger I pose. As fast as jets of physical fire allow me to move, it can’t beat the instantaneous speed the Viisin’s legs provide.
In the aftereffects of the ice storm, I give chase to the Viisin. Both its explosions of decay and my intense flames devastate the land further. While I’m sure the Viisin’s damage is inflicted only because of a lack of control over its decay, I am not so limited, but I burn through the frozen land regardless.
While I could power my movement with physical flame created from my energy, it is still far more efficient, and rapid, to supply that physicality from what I might otherwise consume. Rock and soil may not be all that energy filled, but they work well enough as a source for my thrust. The frozen earth only makes me work all the harder to burn it into something usable.
I launch forward again, barely scratching a leg with the inner flame I strike out with. The Viisin is hurt, but it is still too fast for me. Mermineae swarm past us now. They leave themselves a safe distance to not get caught in the crossfire, but for some, it is in vain. Neither myself nor the Viisin stay still, and with how much faster the both of us are to the surrounding mermineae, it is unavoidable that some find themselves in our way.
The Viisin hardly shows any hesitation as a mermineae explodes into dust after dodging my flames, but I am no different. Sometimes, I throw myself toward my opponent, only to crash through a bystander. Under normal conditions, I’d be able to hold my flames back from burning them, but in a fight like this, I can’t hold myself back.
It doesn’t help that they combust before my flames even touch them.
I don’t have the time to waste with this. I can’t kill the Viisin while it keeps avoiding me. Unfortunately, the idea that this fight would be quick had been far too hopeful. It knows to respect the heat of my flames now, so maybe it won’t continue to chase me this time.
I pretend to attack again, but jet away instead. The mermineae have already taken hold of the open space between the mercenary’s defence. There are some warriors filling in from the rear of the pact nation’s defence, but not nearly enough to hold them back.
Despite my hopes, the Viisin continues to pursue. Why can’t it just give up? My flames burn it faster than its decay can rip the energy from them, so it shouldn’t bother with me. It should go for a target it can actually beat. Does it know how painful fighting it is for me, how much harder it is for me to recover from each attack compared to it? I thought I hid it well.
Maybe the last Viisin I fought — the one Tore scared off — told them of me. It would explain why this Viisin is so adamant about extending this fight. I can only win by taking it out in a single blow, but with how wary it is, I won’t be able to get the jump on it again.
As the Viisin gives chase, I have an idea that might catch the dusty mermineae completely off guard. I already have a head start, but the Viisin is closing the distance quick. Once he’s within range, I’ll only have a second to attack.
My tail already has hyper awareness of my actions, so turning as it strikes will not be effective, especially considering my flame jets don’t give me instant speed. They allow me to accelerate incredibly fast when I lower my body weight, but they aren’t an instant burst of speed like the mermineae’s legs provide.
What I need to do requires a bit more… finesse. More than I’ve yet achieved.
My white flames, by their nature, are harder to control. Yellow and cooler fire spreads easily beyond a hundred metres under my control, but the distance in which I can create them from nothing, without a connection to myself or another flame, is far shorter. White flame is the same, though with a much narrower range.
My inner flame can only become about the equivalent size of my body in white fire. If I want that much, I cannot be spreading my yellow flame, even if it would be easier to encase the Viisin by covering everything. The Viisin won’t ignore it and will disperse it before I have the chance to intensify it into white flame. It would make things incredibly convenient if I could simply use the flames I’m far more familiar with to spread my peak temperature, but the Viisin is far too cautious, dispersing the mild inferno before it can cling to its fur.
What I hope to achieve will take all my focus. I’ll even have to ignore the portion of my mind I always leave on controlling my body.
The world fades away from my sight as I focus on two things: the thrust keeping me moving and the Viisin closing in. I choose a point between us, only a few metres behind myself, and focus intently on it. When the Viisin reaches that distance in relation to me, I’ll have an instant to act. Multiple metres might sound like a lot, but with how fast the Viisin is moving, it isn’t much to work with. But I don’t trust myself to work at any greater lengths, not with my white flame, not without giving the creature time to react.
I gather my energy and push out a stronger burst of physical flame, enough to send me soaring through the air far enough I don’t have to worry about the ground. My jet cuts off and I redirect that focus to the point behind me.
The world doesn’t exist. It is only a thermal dot and the point it is moving toward. All my thoughts flee my mind with an almost impossible ease. No stress, no fear, nothing. There is only one thing I need to do, and I can be patient for the moment to come.
The heat moves over the point, and it ignites. Immense heat appears into existence, fully engulfing the other. As soon as it appears, the momentary burst of mental strain lessens and I can refocus my thoughts.
The first thing I notice is the scream, right before I slam face first into the ground.
The energy in the white flame around the Viisin is nothing greater than what I usually wield, but to create so much of it remotely is painfully difficult. It’s nostalgic, like I’m back with Auntie Kay, succeeding at remote fire for the first time. Only this time, I could focus my mind completely on the task. Something that makes me oddly proud, despite not truly understanding why.
I’ve created my white flame remotely before, notably when I threatened the Order executives, but there is a massive difference between making some fingertip sized orbs over a few seconds, and a flame with all my capability in an instant.
The Scream cuts off after only a second, and I witness the last of the being as it incinerates. There is no time for it to recover, nor make any last acts. It simply burns up into nothing but fuel for my fire.
Soon, nothing remains.
Nothing besides the dust remnants that had once flown freely off his decaying body. The ash swirls through the air where the Viisin once stood, moving in a breeze I cannot feel.
I’m already far behind the pact nations’ defensive lines and while there are still many mercenaries around, the numbers don’t come close to the battlefield in the distance. Time is wasting, and while I really should hurry, something, a feeling, makes me stay.
The swirling dust flows inward, congesting at a point. A shape forms; a body.
I incinerated every part of the Viisin. It shouldn’t be able to come back; there was nothing left.
Details of the body quickly become clear. This is no Viisin. It is too short. The two thin tails and sharp ears confirm it. I don’t even need to wait for the creature’s skin to take form to know who it is.
Kalma.
Her toothy grin is terrifying, but mostly infuriating.