by TJ Reynolds
19
To Hell with Banners Anyway
Bancroft
The wind tossed his body about, making the short flight awkward and challenging.
There was only a half-mile more to go until he reached the first ranks of the advancing army, and he was determined to do so without crashing into the ground… again.
Who knew a gargen nymph would be so much more difficult to fly? Ban mused bitterly. If I have need of wings again, I’m going back to the previous design.
This was different, though.
Ban was about to confront the men who were seeking to destroy him, or at the very least, steal his home.
He wanted to be able to stand taller when speaking to them. The slime nymph design only made for a five-foot creature, and he’d lost a few inches in the pursuit of flight.
Still, just shy of five feet was a great deal better than just over three.
From this height, Ban had been able to confirm Tela’s report. In fact, typical of any good soldier, she’d been conservative in her estimate.
Though she’d warned that there might be more than three thousand, when Ban guessed the force was closer to five, he felt sick.
Five hundred cavalry, a thousand javelins, and another fifteen hundred infantry made up the bulk of the army.
There were stout axemen that wore the armor and livery of some other faction, however. Dwarves, if Ban had to guess.
He saw men with great swords as well, their long beards and pale faces making them look anything but Hintari.
And at least two hundred archers could be seen as well.
Ban supposed none of it mattered—the specifics, at least. It was their numbers that made the greatest difference. That, and how the vast majority of the soldiers had high ascension levels.
Many of the commoners were only Amber or Golden, but hundreds had Emerald ascension.
And here and there, glowing like terrifying beacons, Ban saw brighter cores. Viridian, maybe even higher.
Above Viridian was Cobalt, then Indigo, and finally the mythical Lumen. Ban had only heard of a few figures in history who’d ascended to Indigo, and none with a Lumen ascension.
Even Cobalt was considered nearing godhood.
Kai and Rhona had the highest ascension out of anyone Ban had met, at least in his memory. Some of the dragons he’d met before he’d been shivvered might have been even more powerful.
Then there was Jakodi.
More than a few times, Kai or Rhona had prodded the old wizard to find out what ascension he’d managed to reach himself.
Every time they asked, he declined politely, saying that he shielded his core and protected that knowledge for a reason.
Looking at the brighter cores, Ban counted twelve in all. Perhaps those are the wizards Tela warned about, he thought nervously. Unfortunately, I doubt they’ll tell me if I ask.
He grumbled as another gust of wind nearly collapsed his wings. Then, thankfully, the wind allowed him a more dignified landing.
After setting down some two hundred strides from the army, Ban held up his hands to signal for the army to stop.
As he stood there, feeling ridiculous, he remembered that messengers should always carry some kind of banner. Why didn’t I at least bring a small one? I must look most unprofessional.
Regardless of his lackluster appearance, the soldiers at the front of the column reined in their horses.
A series of horns were blown, echoing back into the marching army. One after another, the horns sounded until every creature in Hintar must have heard.
The army slowly came to a halt.
After waiting for ten full minutes as the forces shifted about, Ban felt a bit guilty for inconveniencing them so thoroughly. Then he remembered what they were after.
Should have simply sent messengers at them. Could have delayed the shivving bastards a week by doing so.
His clever joke did nothing to lift his spirits, so Ban quieted his mind.
At last, the front column of cavalry opened up and a small unit of soldiers emerged.
All of these soldiers had bright cores.
Each were Emerald ascended, and a man strode confidently in their midst. His core was most certainly Viridian.
Ban fidgeted nervously as the group came within fifty feet. Then the powerful man spoke a word, and the soldiers around him halted.
He alone approached the rest of the way.
The man wore elaborate plate armor decorated with the same crest Ban had seen blowing on a hundred different banners held above the army.
The crest was that of three swords, their tips crimson with blood. Ban resisted the urge to roll his eyes when he saw the crest had been laid out in gemstones.
Kai would never go for such opulence, Ban mused. Even if I insisted, he would refuse… Kai is a real soldier, unlike this creature.
The peacock man removed his helm and exposed a mane of long gray hair. His face had the deep golden hue of a true Hintari, and his eyes were hard as flint.
“I’ve never seen or heard of a monster with your shape, least of all one who waves at an army,” the man said in a raspy voice. “Should I assume you’re the dungeon’s champion?”
“I am,” Ban replied. He bit back a sigh of regret when he heard the gargen nymph’s shrill voice. This champion was anything but the masculine and imposing figure he’d wanted to present.
Ignoring his annoyance, Ban added, “I’ve received word you wish to seize the Sunken Keep. Is this true?”
The man gave a wolf’s smile. “Aye, that is true. I’ve been sent by the council of nobles who rule Hintar. If you surrender, your core will not be harmed.”
“And what of my dragon?”
A brief flash of surprise crossed the man’s face, but then he composed himself. “I’ve heard a few rumors of a dragon returned. I have no idea how an Earth Core survived the war, but I have a hard time believing a dragon did as well.”
Ban scoffed. “You think me a liar?”
The old bastard actually bowed. “You wish to prove me wrong?” he asked with a smirk. “Why has your dragon not come to speak?”
Ban cut off his intended reply. There was no point in giving this evil creature any information he didn’t already have.
No doubt, the Hintari would have the rough layout of the Sunken Keep in their history books. Too bad for them, Ban had changed everything but the damn flagstones.
“My dragon is napping in my core room. Speaking with a creature as lowly as you is beneath him.”
The man chuckled and shook his head. “Truly? Come now. You’re a glowing rock who has no true body to speak of. You send this miserable champion to represent yourself… why not open your gates? It is clear you need guidance.”
A hiss escaped Ban’s throat unbidden.
He recoiled inside, wishing for nothing more than to cut this fool’s head off. “Guidance? I need your guidance? And who will guide the Hintari betrayers you serve?”
Seeing the man’s lip twitch was an absolute delight, but it was time to end this.
“You may not have this keep,” Ban said at last. “If you try to take it, you’ll regret the attempt, I can promise you that much.”
The man walked forward until he stood a foot before Ban’s champion. He stared down into Ban’s eyes and then squatted down.
With a sudden movement, he clutched the champion around its slender neck and squeezed.
Ban felt his tendons stretch, and his throat collapsed in the man’s powerful grip.
Growling like a savage, the man said, “I am General Farsten. I have with me four thousand six hundred and fifty-three fighting men. I’ll take this keep and swing the hammer that shatters your cursed core.”
No longer possessing the ability to speak, Ban struck the man’s face with a clawed hand. The attack was futile, but the thin streaks of blood he’d left on the general’s face were worth a mountain of gold.
General Farsten released Ban and stood up.
Ban smiled wi
de, making sure the man knew Ban was not afraid—not of him, at least.
And as the general unsheathed his sword and swung, Ban forced out a blood-soaked chuckle.
A second before his champion’s life was taken, Ban reclaimed his consciousness and shut off the minion’s life. This not only denied General Farsten the satisfaction of killing him, but it also allowed Ban to summon a new champion immediately.
He met Jakodi at the top of the keep’s tower a second later.
The old man didn’t turn to see him. In a tired voice, he asked, “Is it too much to hope they agreed to go away peacefully?”
Ban laughed. “No, but I did anger their general. The man seems to think highly of himself. I did manage a few insults you might have appreciated.”
Jakodi reached out a withered hand and patted his new champion on the back. “Well done, Bancroft. Well done. Now, let’s see what the Hintari have in store for us.”
Ban watched the army’s inevitable approach. Morning gave way to midday by the time they were in position.
Then, as Ban had expected, war engines shrieked and rattled as they were rolled into position.
“If you’ll excuse me, Jakodi, I have a battle to win,” Ban said at last, preparing to dismiss his gargen nymph for the last time.
Jakodi nodded, but said in a calm voice, “You don’t have to win the battle, Bancroft. Merely do what you can to stall these men. I’ll be here should you need me.”
Ban pushed his awareness toward the front lines. He saw the siege engines coming closer, a host of men surrounding them in a defensive formation.
It was time to dance.
He prodded the nymphs in charge of his ballista.
Three nymphs were needed to manage the weapon. Two picked up the heavy bolts and wrestled them into place, and another took charge of aiming and firing the weapon.
Then all three worked at the cranks Ban had designed to reload the mechanism.
A sense of immense satisfaction filled Ban’s malevolent little core as he watched the creatures load and aim. He’d already done plenty of practice shots, but seeing the fruition of long weeks of research put to action was delightful.
Long before the enemy’s massive catapults had been assembled, his ballistae fired.
The long spears he’d fashioned as ammunition were coated in carbon steel. They rose up and over the walls in a shallow arc, streaking toward the Hintari.
Several missed their targets and slammed into the grass field. A few, however, struck home.
Plate armor and chain mail parted as easy as silk when the immense bolts hammered down. No javelin toss or spear thrust could match the force.
One of the bolts sunk through two men, killing them at the same time.
There must be an appropriate human saying for such an occasion, Ban thought. Two buns in one stove! Ha! That seems right.
He commanded his minions to continue their barrage.
They wound up the crude machine, reloaded, and fired, the entire process taking around a minute.
His efforts killed a few dozen invaders, but the greatest benefit was how much the catapults were delayed. Every minute, every hour, would only bring Kai closer to returning.
When the machines of war were at last assembled, Ban practically drooled.
Their construction was masterful!
If I could get my hands on such a design, by Andag’s axe, I could be unstoppable.
His envious heart refused to lose pride in his own creations. After hearing about the construction of a crossbow from Rhona, he’d demanded she draw the weapon in great detail.
Then Ban had spent countless hours perfecting something similar that his minions could use. Making it large enough to fire the oversized bolts had been the real challenge.
The enemy catapults drew back and launched huge boulders. At first, their aim was off, but soon the boulders were slamming into Ban’s stout walls.
The man-sized stones blasted into rubble when they pounded the steel plate that protected the stone core of the wall. Ban had forged the walls using enough ore to arm and armor a battalion of men, perhaps more.
But the effect proved that his time spent digging around under his keep had been well worth the effort.
He was gloating privately when a drimgard soldier exploded. The poor minion was struck full in its chest with a catapulted stone, turning the creature into a lump of twisted steel and a spray of blood.
Briga save us! Ban wanted to shout. What a frightful mess! Thank the gods I can absorb this all!
He made the squished minion disappear, taking up the modest resources it offered, and then summoned a new one to take its place.
Briefly, he pitied the blank-eyed creature as it stared at the oncoming stones apathetically.
Ignorance is a blessing, I suppose, he decided before moving his awareness elsewhere.
After a half an hour of occasionally killing his soldiers and having huge boulders burst open like grapes on his armored walls, the Hintari finally conceded the point.
They would need a lot more than catapults to accomplish more than denting his lovely, steel-clad walls.
Then, as Ban predicted, they turned their focus on the seemingly flimsy gates. Sure enough, the catapults blasted them off their hinges with a single volley.
When the dust cleared, the Hintari saw only twisted wreckage pulled back, revealing a perfect entry into the keep. The general obviously knew much about Earth Cores.
He would have been a soldier in his prime during the War of the Dragons.
So when Ban refused to reassemble the gate, they would likely assume this was outside his area of influence. And since he made sure to summon minions behind the tall palisades only, he doubted they could see him do so from this distance.
The first ranks of infantry started marching forward.
Ban waited until they were within two hundred strides before he urged the archers to let fly.
Firing heavy, armor-piercing arrows, the archer nymphs released one dense volley after another. He urged them to alternate using their skill as well.
Every fifth archer would draw their bow, hold it until the arrow lit up with the fierce and unbridled light of Lumen, and release it.
These would land like tiny bombs amid the ranks. The arrowheads exploded and knocked several soldiers down. Few seemed fatal, but every shot caused injuries.
Combined with the occasional ballistae volley, the Hintari soldiers were starting to fall like flies.
Dozens of them died, the first column being completely eradicated until the Hintari managed to counter his efforts.
Suddenly, vast shields forged of glowing green ether sprang up over the oncoming soldiers. This didn’t completely protect the men, but the free-for-all slaughter had come to an end.
I suppose that isn’t cheating? Ban wanted to question the wizards. And to make matters worse, they refuse to expose themselves.
He’d searched the ranks several times, and the once bright beacons of light that indicated the more powerful cores had now blended in.
Perhaps they’re cloaking their cores, Ban assumed. If Jakodi knows the secret of how to do so, surely others do as well.
Ban commanded his archers to shift toward a sniping strategy focused more on targeting exposed individuals. Their rate of fire diminished dramatically, but the death toll continued to rise.
By the time the infantry were closing on the opened gate, Ban’s count was at one hundred and fifty-two dead Hintari.
Denying quick and easy entrance, Ban ordered his own ground forces into place.
Fully armored obsidian bears and striated crawlers marched in formation. They exited the walls in step with one another like perfectly disciplined soldiers.
Dozens of the Hintari faltered when they saw the monsters. Ban had modified their steel armor so that it gleamed a faint crimson.
The many-limbed minions marched slowly due to their weight. Still, Ban felt confident he’d made the right choice when a volley of arrows cl
anged off them harmlessly a moment later.
Spears and swords will have a tough time breaking them as well, Ban thought hopefully.
When the two forces joined at last, the sound struck something deep and primal in Ban’s core. The crush of battle was, apparently, ingrained into his very existence.
He briefly wondered how many centuries Earth Cores had been summoning small armies to defend themselves.
Focusing instead on his minions, Ban rejoiced in seeing the skilled Hintari infantry all but at a loss for how to manage the squat and versatile fighters.
Working from behind a sturdy shield wall, the spearmen probed the bears and crawlers with professional efficiency.
Despite their efforts, only occasionally was an attack strong enough to pierce the minions’ thick armor.
Even then, it rarely killed the beast.
After exchanging blows for a few minutes, Ban ordered the minions to start alternating their skills.
The obsidian bears blasted the front lines with roars of condensed ether. Emerging like rippling cones, the skills spread out among the soldiers standing five to ten feet in front of the minions.
This caused Disorientation effects to spread among the front ranks. When ten of the minions rocked the spearmen at the same time, Ban ordered the crawlers to activate their own skills.
The crawlers shot spines of ether into the enemies. Each was only a foot long and an inch thick, but they emerged with the force of miniature ballistae.
Ban was filled with a malevolent joy when he saw a dozen men fall in a single blast.
Twice more, the bears and crawlers antagonized the Hintari until the soldiers decided conserving their own skills was no longer advantageous.
A loud-mouthed leader activated a skill that removed Disorientation from the soldiers under his command. Then he shouted again, and the Hintari lunged forward as one. They dropped their shields briefly and thrust their spears in unison. A vast wave of Wind ether crashed into Ban’s minions a moment later.
The attack did little visible damage to the bears and crawlers, but blood sprayed from the creatures’ eyes and mouths, evidence they’d been grievously wounded.