by A R Chen
Then, a massive lightning bolt struck down from the clouds that had just darkened the sky above, striking something in the town center.
Chapter 18
Ash was feeling quite good, great even. When the pressure of the invading energy had become too much, his mind had been transported to another place. Or maybe more like a subsection of his mind, where he felt no pain or worry at all. He had heard about Naming ceremonies where the child passed out from the pain; those were generally regarded as failures, and the child was left with no hope of becoming a strong mage in the future. Ash idly wondered if he was going to become one of them. Oh well, even if so, it didn’t matter to him.
Ash was completely at peace as he stood in a stark, seemingly endless, white room. When he unfocused his vision, taking in everything at once, he could make out no walls or other boundaries.
It was odd, Ash had never even heard of a place like this, and being here felt eerie. After a while of trying to take in his surroundings, he finally noticed how strange his vision was. Since when did he have omnidirectional vision? What was this place?
Ash then felt a warm feeling coursing through his body and filling him with energy. A symbol appeared before him, but Ash didn’t recognize it. After the symbol appeared, his body warmed even more, building to an intense but pleasant heat. It was like a rush of power…No, that’s definitely what it was and the feeling was incredible, filling him to his core.
The feeling built higher and higher, until Ash’s vision went black for a moment, his mind overloaded by the pleasurable rush. When his sight returned, Ash found he was lying on something hard; it was uncomfortable.
He was disoriented, to say the least. It was sort of like the morning after overindulging in spirits during a village celebration. Ash didn’t know where he was, or who he was for a few moments. His thoughts were hazy, but everything slowly came back to him.
He was lying on the podium at the village center, his ceremonial hat lying where it had fallen, before him. There were a few wisps of smoke curling up from the podium, but what really caught his attention was the two men standing a way back from him, with astonished expressions on their faces.
It was now that Ash’s mind fully cleared, and the feeling was stronger than ever before. He felt a god’s mana coursing through him like a river. It had completely overtaken his own mana veins and replaced them with something different, something more powerful.
Ash cast a spell to try it out—halfway through the chant, the spell rushed out of him with a bang. It was more powerful than he had expected. Ash decided to quickly try again.
He wanted to use the lightning spell he had started studying right after he had seen god Steve cast it. Until now, even with the aid of one of the village’s old tomes which explained the use of the spell, he wasn’t able to do it correctly. It was too complex; it demanded too much of him. But now that he had been granted a god’s power…
He tried it, how could he resist? The river of power coursing through his veins was intoxicating, making him feel invincible. He was the first apostle of the mighty god Steve.
Ash finished the chant and a lightning bolt shot from his outstretched hand. It struck the ground and left a crater the size of a man’s head. The feeling of power only waned slightly as Ash then turned and stretched out his body.
The two men were still staring, unmoving in their astonishment. Only when he had been looking at them for a moment did they move towards him. One of them withdrew something from his pocket and held it up before Ash—it was a small mirror. For some reason, the mirror didn’t show his reflection. Ash saw someone else, a man with bright-yellow hair.
What kind of trick mirror is this? Ash thought. Then it hit him. My hair turned yellow!
“You’re needed at the front lines, Ash!” the other man told him. “The battle isn’t going well.”
They pointed him in the direction and wished him good luck. Ash now recognized the man with the vanity mirror. He was the most successful merchant in the village, which explained why he wasn’t participating in the battle; the man didn’t know how to fight.
Ash nodded and set off towards the fight; he could hear it clearly now. Ash increased his pace to a run and found that his body could now withstand this pace without any apparent effort. Everything seemed so easy as a result of the transformation he’d just undergone.
As he neared the battle, he saw his own Niti clansmen were fighting but still being pushed back. Then Ash noticed the bodies; there were so many dead bodies on the street! People that had just this morning walked these very streets, who had attended his Naming. His village was being torn apart, right before his eyes. A teacher, blacksmith, lumberjack, so many of his acquaintances now lay dead on the ground!
Ash felt anger surge within in, but he held it back. Now wasn’t the time, not yet. He knew that if he threw himself into battle randomly and started flinging spells, it would only help a little. At most, he would disrupt the enemy’s rhythm but the thing was, in this fight there were just too many enemies. A single mage could only do so much, even if he was powered up. He needed to wait for the right opportunity, so he could make the most of his limited power. After all, he wasn’t a god.
Even as he had that thought, he saw god Steve unleashing spells into the crowd of enemies from the top of a building, trying to alleviate the pressure on the Nitians. A group of Mottor clansmen were lifted into the air, shouting and struggling. They came back down drained of energy, neutralized for now.
God Steve then used Blink and appeared just before Ash, startling him. “I need you to use your Earth magic to secure the inner village walls. There’s an army of ants headed our way, we can’t allow them in.”
It had seemed somewhat like the Nitian forces were making a fighting retreat to the village center; this certainly explained why. If an army of ants made it into the inner village through the breaches the Mottor formed, Ash didn’t need to be a general to know that could spell the end of the village.
With a nod, Ash set off. He was determined to make the most of his newfound power, so he’d have to trust god Steve to take of the Mottor. He avoided the fighting as he charged back towards the village’s inner walls.
Arriving at the smashed barricade, Ash could see the incoming army of ants. It seemed to stretch to the horizon like a massive spear, aimed at the heart of their village.
***
Eventually the chaos died down, giving Steve a chance to look around. Both sides had been devastated. In Niti Village’s case, they only had about a hundred and fifty warriors left; their enemy had even fewer. There were still scattered pockets of fighting after the initial surrender, but soon every one of the Mottor who was left alive could see they’d lost. One by one they dropped their weapons and lay on the ground, wherever they could find a space between the dead bodies and streams of blood. There was no other option given to them but to be killed on the spot.
Everyone was exhausted, even Steve. Firing all those spells in such a short period of time not only depleted his energy but had also mentally worn him out. Even in his flashbacks, he hadn’t been a warrior, just a cadet in the academy. Nothing had prepared him for this level of carnage.
Joffrey was still nowhere to be found. Amon was leading the survivors, healers, and nurses to help treat the wounded who were all over the ground, moaning piteously or begging for aid.
After a while, Ash came back to Steve, who was floating somewhat in the center of the survivors, keeping the peace. Azra had gone to help her father.
“God Steve, I’ve sealed up the holes in the inner wall. I don’t believe the ant army will be able to get in,” Ash said confidently. Then he faltered as he thought of something. “Though, what about the other entrance?”
“Don’t worry about it, I told Leffer to secure that area,” Steve replied.
They had done it. Niti Village was safe from both the Mottor and the ants, for now. As the rest of the Mottor clansmen were securely bound, a victory cheer rose up.
&n
bsp; This time it was quieter; there were far fewer men left alive to participate and they were hesitant to cheer at all, since the first time had gone so poorly. But they did it anyway, for morale’s sake, Steve guessed. He had learned in the academy that troops needed to keep their morale up in times of war. It was the only thing that would keep them going when the battle got tough.
They began to clear away the carnage. When word of the victory reached the noncombatants, people streamed out to help. The wounded were treated, with Nitians taking priority, while the dead were moved out of the way. Nobody was eager to treat the wounded Mottor after what they had done.
Leffer came back, looking a lot older than before. The Elder had overexerted himself in the battle and aged visibly. He approached Steve and spoke up, “We can only offer our thanks for your assistance in this battle. Niti Village owes you a lot, I’m going to call for an emergency meeting as soon as we get everything cleaned up here. Please wait here, if you want to participate.”
Steve was mentally drained, but he agreed. He wanted to know what would happen, now that the Mottor’s main force had been taken care of. The ant army that was roaming around outside…that would be a problem for another time.
***
Mottle had seen it all happen from his vantage point. By the time he caught up with the troops, they had moved in and were attacking Niti Village. He didn’t know what to do at this point, so he trailed along behind the rearmost soldiers. He knew that there was an ant army coming this way and they would be arriving soon; he just didn’t know how to tell his father.
His father was probably glad that he had gotten lost, assuming he even noticed. Usually, an Elder’s son would be capable enough to join in on the battle. He knew that Mithe was out there, leading a squad of Mottor warriors. But they had gone on without him.
Mottle didn’t know how to feel about this. On the one hand, it was good that he wasn’t participating in the fight. On the other, it was customary to at least discuss the matter with him. Instead, he had been cut off without any warning, just because they assumed he was useless.
He considered not telling anyone about the ant army, letting them all die together. It would serve them right for making him the outcast, the black sheep of the family. No, I can’t. That’s wrong, Mottle thought. The battle was already well underway at this point. His clan was winning, pushing the Niti villagers back. Of course they would win, they had hundreds more men. On just that basis, they would win almost every single time.
The tide began to turn a little when a man flew out from the Niti crowd into the air and started sniping away at their mage commanders. Flight was a higher-class magic; Mottle knew this because he had studied it before.
He saw his brother, Mithe, cast a lightning spell at this man not long afterwards. The older man fell from the sky, leaving a curl of smoke in his wake. Mithe had won glory for the clan, while he, Mottle, had stayed back and done nothing.
A part of him felt shame, while another felt anger. Mithe had always been the best; nobody needed a second son like him. Mottle suddenly wanted to die again.
It was at this point a large group of their soldiers were lifted into the air. From Mottle’s vantage point on the second floor of one of the residences, it had seemed totally random, but then he saw it. There was a ball of light on a rooftop, the one that everyone had assumed was harmless.
It certainly didn’t look harmless now, as it brought a whole squad of men down. It put them back on the ground, but they twitched and seemed unable to get back up. What had it done to them?
Mottle then saw his father rush along with his private guard, into the building that the light was hovering above. From here, he wouldn’t be able to see what was going to happen. He would need to get on the roof to see it.
As Mottle rushed upwards, he realized that he was slow. Extremely slow. Even climbing a few sets of stairs and the ladder to the roof had him breathing heavily. Mottle wasn’t overweight, just very out of shape, never having worked on his body.
Fuck. If I miss this… Mottle thought as he pushed himself harder. Come on. Come on…
Mottle finally reached the top of the roof, just as his father’s bodyguards were coming onto the rooftop. Then, two of them were electrocuted as soon as they came up.
Weird, how is it using magic without any chant? Mottle thought. He had studied magic previously but seeing it in action like this made him reconsider. Mottle wasn’t bothered by the deaths of those bodyguards, they were rude to him anyways. What he was really interested in was his father’s magic.
His father came up, along with another bodyguard. They seemed to think they were safe, because the ball of light didn’t immediately electrocute them.
Cooldown time. Mottle knew about this. Magic would control the world if one could cast spells indefinitely until they ran out of mana…That would be too powerful. Nothing could stand against that, save the beings from the legends. This is where it ends.
The ball of light levitated his dad and the bodyguard into the air. His dad then Blinked out to the other side of the roof, where he prepared a spell to attack the ball of light from behind. It would probably work, since the ball of light didn’t seem to have any defenses.
Too bad he had to use a Seal to do it, Mottle analyzed the situation. If he was better, he could’ve done it without. Oh well, he still has like two more.
Even Mottle knew about the Seals. They were the envy of every mage in the village—both villages, even. They were so hard to get, but once you had them, you basically had a couple of extra lives. He was expecting his father to end it right there.
But, instead, a girl popped up from a nearby hiding place and hit his father with a flame spear to the back. His father went down as the ball of light finished off the other bodyguard.
Mottle couldn’t move for a second. He was stunned. What had just happened?
Uh… Mottle at first failed to produce a coherent thought. Then too many thoughts crashed down on him all at once. This isn’t happening. How was Father defeated? Are we going to lose? What will happen to me? This can’t be real; it must be a bad dream.
This was unacceptable.
***
Droplets of blood flew from Loop’s clothing as he swung his sword to attack his next enemy. He was strong, far stronger than these fools that had tried to attack Niti. At least, that was how he felt standing next to his father in battle. They were an invincible duo.
They had flanked the enemy force under the command of the Left. He’d already been considered a man for over a year now at age sixteen, so there wasn’t anyone who would oppose his decision to fight alongside his father. He had been considering whether to participate before, as he wandered the streets of Niti, but as soon as he saw the dire wolves he knew he had to do something.
He had been there when his grandfather destroyed the dire wolf force and sent them packing. Now, he would be here when god Steve destroyed the Mottor force.
The feeling of battle was exhilarating, to say the least. Loop had trained his swordsmanship before, but it hadn’t prepared him for the sensations of a life-and-death fight. He lunged, blocked, and parried, all the while knowing that one mistake could put him down for good.
He and his father were fighting side by side with the Workforces that they had overseen earlier. Now that they were in the thick of combat, he wasn’t in command of the prisoners anymore. They were free to fight however they thought best but it had been made clear that traitorous acts would result in their summary execution. A lot of them had interesting fighting styles, Loop noted.
After fighting for what felt like forever but was probably only a few handfuls of minutes, the enemy force surrendered with their hands and weapons up in the air. Loop shouted in victory, along with the other Niti clansmen. They had succeeded in defending their village! He then accompanied his father to collect the enemy soldiers and place them accordingly.
He surveyed the prisoners-of-war, noting in passing that most of them were just like him:
tan-skinned and strong. Even though their leaders had called for surrender, many of the men were slow to lay down their weapons. Loop could understand their mindset; they were still unwilling to give up, seeing that they held the manpower advantage. When the last of the soldiers finally disarmed, Loop and his father, as well as the rest of the Niti clansmen, began to round them up and lead them away.
Suddenly, someone shouted something about an ant army and his father cried out as he was stabbed through the chest by a Mottor. The perpetrator of this dishonorable act was almost immediately struck down by divine lightning, but the damage had been done.
Loop was stunned. His father… Then his vision went red. As everything around him erupted into chaos again, he felt his pulse beat faster and faster—it sounded like frantic war drums. He lifted his sword above his head, and began the slaughter.
Chapter 19
“Usually, an army of ants wouldn’t attack the village itself. However, walling up was a good idea. This way, they would have to burn a lot of their stamina to charge up the walls, that is assuming they even can, since they’re so large. Damn mana-infused creatures, they must be here for something else.” Leffer had been talking for a few minutes now, trying to address everything that had happened earlier in the day. The emergency village meeting consisted of Leffer, Amon, Loop, Ash, Azra, and Steve, as well as a few other important village personnel.
“We did find an army of centipedes near the Lake,” Azra offered. “It might have to do with the King of the Lake being dead. God Steve killed it the other day, and the freshwater mana spring would be very appealing to any creature.”