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37 - A Helping Hand, Part 2

  Dante upgraded [Brawl] to [Martial Arts]. It offered everything he could ask for. Increased defense and speed with an increase in rarity to boot? Exactly what he would have asked for if given a choice. He could imagine it having strong upgrades at the next tier. For [Crossbow], he ultimately decided to go with [Artillerist]. A problem he had been having throughout the battle was that his normal bolts could not penetrate most Ahsmati’s hides. Hopefully, it would help with that.

  Finished, he checked to see if anyone need him. Sūnva was still conversing with other officers. It seemed to be heating up based on the raised voices and wild gestures he was seeing. This was a first, usually, he was always the last one to be ready. Dante supposed that it was a universal rule that bureaucracy moved slowly everywhere.

  He looked to his teammates, seeing if they needed any help. For the most part, they were fine, though both Svōl and Ren were being looked at by a white robed healer. Despite being exhausted a few short minutes ago, they looked like they had mostly recovered. The benefits of having high attributes, he supposed. He felt just as tired as before, despite apparently being the fittest he had ever been … it might be good to ask Pauwna about that. Just where was she?

  It took a moment to spot her; the blood armor camouflaged disturbingly well here. She appeared to mediating … Here on the battle field. Amongst the corpses. Hell, there was a one right next to her leg.

  I wonder what kind of life she has led for this to be perfectly ok to her. Though … I suppose I don’t feel as sick as I once did looking at scenes like this. I suppose you can get used to just about anything.

  Dante approached her, ready to ask his question but before he had made it within arms reach, she spoke.

  “Another time, Dante, it takes all of my concentration to keep [Blood Regalia] from dissipating outside of battle.”

  Chagrinned, he left her alone and resolved to ask her at a less busy time. It would be easy to remember, not like the problem was going to solve itself anytime. Instead, he contented himself with cleansing the blood from soldiers with his aura. It wasn’t much, but at least he felt useful.

  It wasn’t too long after that he saw Sūnva throw up her hands, turn from the meeting, and stalk towards the team. Dante finished dispelling the blood from a man in the middle of a surgery to the murmured thanks of the attending healer and hurried over. He arrived in time to hear the last few lines.

  “Line up. The sanno has already gone ahead.” She pointed up and Dante saw that the winged ships were lining up to pass through the rift. “We are to clear the battlefield so that the mages can assist the First Princess. Make sure you are moving at top speed. We have half a turn until the order is given. Any questions? No? Svōl, you are responsible for Dante.”

  He was about to ask what that meant when Svōl scooped him up and deposited him on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Dante fought it for a second before resigning himself. He would never be able to break Svōl’s grasp and what was the alternative anyway? He got as comfortable as possible. Which was not very. Armor did not make for a good cushion.

  Well, this is humiliating … Are we really about to charge into the no-mans land? If I recall my WWI history, this generally does not go well for the attacking side.

  They lined up at the lip of the trench and waited for the order. Silence fell over the battlefield. For once, there was not even the sound of distant explosions. Rank nervous sweat filled the air as everyone waited. It was not a long wait.

  “Foooorward!”

  Dante bounced violently in Svōl’s grip as they charged, moving at a speed that easily matched a car. He was glad that the stamp of so many feet was so loud. It swallowed his yelp as his stomach fell to his toes and the wind beat on his face. It was like being in the heart of a thunderstorm. Having the wind directly ruffling his hair made the speed seem so much more real. His heart jumped into his throat as he considered what would happen if he was dropped at this speed. He tried to clutched onto the armor, managing to hook his fingers under a paldron. He locked eyes with Ren, who was being princess-carried by Sūnva. She arched one thin eyebrow and his cheeks burned.

  Svōl’s long stride ate up the distance and it wasn’t long until they arrived at the tear in the great barrier. Dante held his breath as they passed through, prepared to flare [Overloaded Warding Flesh] at the slightest sign of danger. The air felt different here, though it was hard to put a finger on it. Perhaps it was more sterile then before? There was not even a hint of wind for one. The air had a distinct chemical smell, almost like heated pennies. That had not been here there the last time.

  The stagnant air was briefly disturbed as the storm mage from before soared past. Her clothes were stained with red, but she otherwise looked fine, considering she had been turned into a human meteorite. Dante was surprised to see that he recognized her; it was the shorter woman who had been with Ahzi when he had seen her in the hospital. He realized now that she was the same race as whatever Pauwna was, which he had apparently missed. The Princess had been distracting enough.

  The attendant reached the earthen wall that the Ahsmati usually manned and continued past. Wherever Azhi had gone, it was far. This seemed like bad news to Dante, but he was hardly in a position to voice his worries. To his surprise, nothing happened as they approached the earthworks. Dante could see neither hide nor tail of an Ahsmati, much less spells or arrows.

  They began climbing the artificial hill, slowing down a bit as the soft earth gave away underfoot and was quickly churned into mud. Dante held his breath as they neared the crest, imagination whirling about what they would find. During the weeks he had worked in the trenches, he had often wondered what lay on the other side. To say nothing of what they might be walking into. Maybe it would be filled with a fresh horde of Ahsmati or some giant magic circle rigged to blow up in their faces. The Empire had done it, so why not the Ahsmati? Really, the possibilities were endless.

  Despite all of his imaginings, he could not have expected what they found.

  Yurts made of animal skin covered the land beyond for as far as the eye could see, extending much farther than the Empire’s camp. They varied in size from dog house to a stadium he could spot far in the distance. It had no order to it aside from a few dirt roads. This was within what Dante had expected, but that was not what caused a hitch in the step of every soldier that crested the ridge.

  It was a ghost town. Not a single iota of movement could be seen anywhere. As they poured down the other side of the wall, he saw that most of the huts were collapsed and were dilapidated. His enhanced eyes picked out a thick layer of dust over everything. It was clear that nothing had lived here for a while.

  A sick feeling wormed through his gut. Something was terribly wrong here. A feeling that seemed to be shared amongst all, given the startled looks, sudden murmurs, and primed weapons. This felt like a trap.

  The tide stalled as they reached the lip of the enemy's camp; there was not enough space for them all. “Push forward! Trample them if you need to,” bellowed an officer with an incredibly loud voice. Dante wouldn’t have been surprised if they had some sort of ability that allowed their voice to carry.

  And so they did, demolishing their way into the decrepit camp. It slowed their progress somewhat as they were forced to awkwardly step over ruins or cram into too small roads. Yurts that were either too sturdy or too large had their doors kicked down and checked out. A chorus of “all clear” or “empty” could be heard all around.

  Thunder rumbled across the plain and a section of the clouds lit up with electricity. This attracted the attention of all and the general flow of traffic diverted towards it. By this point, the entire army had entered the camp.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  A roar yanked everyone's attention back to the sky, where the clouds parted and Ahzi fell to the stunned silence of all. It was immediately clear she was injured. Something thin and long stuck out of her abdomen and she fluttered like a lost moth. The storm-wielding attendant caught up to her, caught Ahzi, and pulled the weapon out of her. Dante could just see her tip a potion into Ahzi’s mouth. The first princess's flight steadied just after. Just in time, as clouds parted once again to reveal Black Wind diving after her. Followed by a second dragon.

  Where the Black Wind resembled a western dragon, this one was more like an eel. It was disturbingly long, coils kept emerging from the clouds long past when they should have ended. This one was almost painful to look at, despite being mostly translucent. It had no internal organs, Instead light flowed throughout its length like some strange lava lamp. Each of it’s scales had a thin slice of light tracing it’s edge.

  It was quite dazzling, beautiful where the Black Wind was terrifying. Delicate in a way something that obviously dangerous should not have been.

  They were not the only thing that emerged from the clouds. Thousands of black shapes plummeted from the sky like fat droplets of rain. However …

  There are so many fewer of them than before. Suppose the Black Wind was exaggerating when it said their ranks were endless.

  Indeed, the soldiers around him didn’t seem all that concerned at the sight of incoming enemies. Maintaining discipline, they drew into their squads, including his, and prepared to receive the enemy.

  Svōl set him down and Dante stumbled as the world kept moving. As he struggled to regain his bearings, he commented to Pauwna, “I am surprised that everyone is not more worried about that.”

  He gestured to the twin dragons in the sky, who were trying to corner Ahzi and her attendants. The armored attendant had rejoined the fight at some point while he was distracted. Almost like Dante had timed it, the new one opened its maw and unleashed its breath. The horizon lit up and Dante had to look away to where a beam of light struck Ahzi, who angled her sword and deflected it in defiance of all physics. The beam scored a deep ravine through the camp, narrowly missing the army.

  Pauwna briefly glanced at the fight before refocusing on the diving Ahsmati horde. “Are you talking about Lightbringer? What is there to worry about? It’s two high ranks against three, and the First Princess has an advantage against their kind. Besides, she is in her demesne. Royals rarily loses within the kingdom.” She frowned. “Was this all it was planning? I don’t know why I got so concerned.”

  Before he could ask what she what she meant, the sky lit up as what seemed like every Ahsmati launched an elemental attack. Their side answered back. Mighty spells, that took a circle of mages each to cast, rose into the air and burst, taking down many Ahsmati at once.

  “Dante, defend us,” ordered Sūnva.

  Well, who was he to disappoint a lady? Taking his place in the center of the group, Dante spread his repulsive field upwards. It was getting easier, taking less time to assume the trance needed to use [Aura Manipulation]. He tried to shape it into a cone so that it would better deflect the more solid projectiles, but only managed to make a lumpy sphere. Watching the rain of sorcery carefully, he timed his charge activation with a bit of leeway.

  Down came the hail of spells and his shield did an admirable job stopping most threats and slowing others. The force of it drove him to his knees, where he stayed for the duration of the onslaught. Sometimes, Svōl would intercede. Like when a molten globule of metal plunged straight through the barrier and Svōl slapped it aside with his shovel.

  Once it ended, Dante relaxed and stepped behind the others. His job was over. When the vanguard of the Ahsmati arrived, Svōl was there to break it. It was nothing compared to the earlier battle and Svōl alone could have handled the initial assault. With Pauwna and Rēva helping defend, it was a cinch.

  Any troublesome Ahsmati got cut down by their team's backline and Dante aimed for any injured ones. Using [Artillerist] was an odd experience. Whenever he aimed at a target, his mind was filled with memories that he was certain never happened. Such as how to better brace the crossbow to control recoil or to time the shot with an exhale for better accuracy. He was now able to tell at a glance which Ahsmati he might be able to pierce and where. Might was the important word here. Dante had managed to strike several Ahsmati right where his new senses said the weakness should be, but the bolt still glanced off.

  Perhaps it was due to individual builds? Whatever the reason, I can’t know for sure if I am going to take any of them down.

  Between shots, he had time to glance up the sky to get a measure of how things were progressing up there. Dante had a feeling if Ahzi lost, then they all lost. If that were to happen, he was going to run. Though it currently didn’t seem likely.

  While Ahzi and her attendants were no longer able to box in the Black Wind, the dragon was still injured from their previous encounter. The new dragon — Lightbringer, he remembered Pauwna called it — demanded substantial attention to address. It seemed to have exceptional control over its many coils and tried to loop them around anyone who got close. It seemed much more resilient than its brethren, taking several direct hits from Ahzi and her companions with minimal damage. However, every time it attempted to attack with magic or its breath, Ahzi would be there to counter it. She seemed to have some sort of inherent resistance to the element. It was a threat and was more powerful than any of the attendants and maybe even Ahzi herself. However …

  They really suck at working together huh?

  One of Lightbringer’s coils accidentally blocked most of the Black Wind’s death cloud breath attack. The Black Wind nipped at his ally and was answered with a warning growl. By contrast, Ahzi and her attendants displayed flawless teamwork. They had switched to a new strategy now that they could no longer surround the Black Wind. The storm mage would harry one of the dragons until they counteracted, whereupon Ahzi would punish their momentary distraction. The armored attendant was able to negate most attacks unless the dragon put its all into it. The conclusion of the fight above seemed certain as long as there were no further complications.

  Satisfied with the situation, Dante redirected his full attention to the fight at hand and continued firing at stray Ahsmati. Before he ran dry of his bolts, he managed to bring down one. For once, it wasn’t one of the small flying serpents but one of the larger humanoid ones. His biggest individual kill yet.

  Level 8 [Uvaun Ahsmati] has been slain

  Calculating participation: 100%

  No levels for that one, huh? Guess I am getting spoiled. Still, I can’t complain. This is all going so well!

  Predicatably, this was when things went to shit.

  It began when a javelin tangled with the legs of a group of mages casting together. They fell in a jumble and the intricate runes in the magic circle became tangled. A strange multicolored energy crackled between them like some strange form of electricity and prismatic colors flickered through the mana. One of the mages cried out, an expression of primal fear on his face.

  “Dante, shield now!” Sūnva shouted with a tinge of panic that he had never heard from her before. His shield was always up, but he interposed himself between the team and the incoming disaster. But he had barely made it three steps or started shaping his aura when it detonated.

  It couldn’t quite call it an explosion. The world … twisted, contorting on itself in a way that shouldn’t be possible. Dante could feel it through [Overloaded Warding Flesh], a part of the world was breaking. It strained against his aura and Dante felt like a grain of sand against the ocean. Fortunately, even his tiny bit of resistance meant that the chaos was free to spread in every other direction.

  When the world made sense again, he saw that the mages and a good area around them was … jumbled. There was a crater, but it was split into slices and scattered all around with space of relatively untouched ground between them. A strange, spongey green material covered the entire area and the smell of cut vegetation hit him. The bodies of the mages and the other soldiers were similarly afflicted. That was to say, chaotically scattered, merged, and converted to something else.

  This is some fresh new horror. I never knew that dying this way was an option … I think I will keep away from any collaborative casting from now.

  There was a stunned pause, which the Ahsmati took full advantage of, clawing back anything they could. In moments, the entire area was lost to them and they had no choice but to retreat.

  A few moments later, an identical javelin impaled an archer’s arm, causing their shot to go wide into the throat of a healer. Another bounced off a shield raised just in time and into the back of an officer.

  Over the next few minutes, many such occurrences happened. Individually, their contribution as small, just a single javelin claiming a one life. But their effects were far reaching. Coherence began to break down amongst forces as soldiers were forced to keep an eye on their teammates. Chains of command broke down as anyone with authority fell victim to similar circumstances.

  In every single case, it was the same black javelins that were the cause. Even the slightest cut from them seemed to spell instant dismemberment or death. He saw one soldier who received a cut on her finger lop of offending digit without hesitation. No one even seemed to know where they came from, though Dante saw one bounce around a corner before claiming another victim.

  Dante began to hear a name whispered here and there. Soldiers who said were quickly hushed by their comrades, as if the word alone could summon whoever it was. Still, he heard it in ever increasing frequency. It all came to a head when a soldier near them suddenly pointed at the peak of the largest yurt and shrieked the name with a hint of hysteria.

  “Right there, it’s the Huntress!”

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