Emperor Forged

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Emperor Forged Page 6

by K D Robertson


  It was a slaughter. Butcher’s work, once again. I found myself briefly missing the time when I was battling my subordinates and allies.

  Suddenly, we were through. The fleeing, screaming Imperial knights were cut down to a man. The mages came into sight. I saw the panic of the archers and regular soldiers who had seen their heavily armed vanguard obliterated by Yasno’s elites.

  Between us stood a woman dressed in a battle robe. A combat magister, most likely, or perhaps the leader of the battlemages. I summoned a mote of power into my sword and prepared to lunge.

  Then she summoned power, masses of it. I turned that mote of power into a torrent, my body screaming in fury at my recklessness. Runes rippled to life along my sword as I took up a defensive stance in the time it took me to blink. My muscles felt like they were going to explode from the sheer volume of magic I pumped into them.

  A huge chunk of black iron materialized from nowhere in front of the woman. That iron was sharpened to a point and steaming with prismatic light. It screamed toward me with lightning speed. I spun my sword toward it. The sound of the collision deafened me. Yasno, the oni, and the mages were knocked away, some by several meters. A ball of prismatic light hugged me for a moment before it dissipated into nothingness, the raw magical energy transitioning from the material plane back to the magical plane from whence it came.

  I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. Across from me, the woman scowled. She didn’t even look like she was breathing heavily or had broken a sweat. Then she transformed into a dragon. In a blink, her body shifted to her draconic form, her robe vanishing in the process.

  I looked up at the gargantuan winged lizard. It could kill a hundred or more oni with a single breath. Red scales glittered along her form, promising a dragonfire that was hotter and more dangerous than that of most of her brethren.

  At least she was on the ground, where I could—

  Oh wait, she took off. Had none of these dragons heard of the honor of the duel?

  I supposed it was dragon-hunting time. Again. Time to learn how to fly.

  Chapter 8

  The air was thick with ash and smoke, but the form of the red dragon soaring away was unmistakable. It was preparing for a strafing run that would turn this into an extremely costly victory at best. It would end the war before it had truly started. Lyria had masses of reserves and the armies of five other provinces to draw upon, so she could afford to lose a small force. I couldn’t. That dragon had to be stopped.

  I dashed back through my lines, entrusting Yasno with the last of the butchery. The enemy was in disarray, and the grass itself burned from the bombardment my mages had unleashed. I saw my rearguard beginning to advance around the edges of the melee to close the noose around the foe. Nothing short of a dragon could win this for them, so I had to prevent just that.

  Zwei was still waiting patiently for me in the rear. A handful of other wingless griffins waited with her, as we lacked the numbers for a cavalry company. I shouted a thank-you to the attendants and leaped upon her back. The hill was my objective, so I urged her toward it.

  Free from the smoke, I could now see what I heard earlier. The blue dragon flew in an evasive loop in the distance, over the forest from which we came. The distant crackle and pop of Miyasa’s barrage was the cause as she fired arrow after arrow at him.

  Zwei leaped over a massive crater in the earth, the ground glassy where a spell had incinerated what it could and melted whatever it couldn’t. Scars from the ongoing duel between dragon and oni. Evidently, Miyasa knew how to dodge.

  On the other side of the crater was the red dragon. She was already beginning to turn back toward my army. I turned Zwei toward the red dragon and held on tight as we barreled toward a potentially fiery death. As I summoned magical energy into my body, I prepared to do something more reckless than I had in years.

  Distance was key. I had to wait until the dragon was close enough but not so close that she could begin her strafing run. A single jet of dragonfire would kill dozens, to say nothing of what a full blast would do. Every pound of Zwei’s feet into the dirt felt heavier than the last. Yet the dragon seemed no closer with each step. Time seemed to slip away from me.

  I had to brave it.

  I leaped, hit the ground in a roll, and came to my feet. Magic was humming in my veins, hot enough that it was beginning to burn on the inside. It wasn’t enough. My muscles needed to truly feel this.

  Sprinting forward, I jumped into the air at the apex of the hill. I flew. The trees shrunk below me. The red dragon rapidly closed in my vision as I soared toward her.

  Hurtling through the air with no control over my angle still left me more time to think than I would have liked, especially when most of it was spent staring at a dragon that could eat me in a single bite. I could make eating me painful with my sword, but death was death. I didn’t fancy my chances if she somehow intercepted my leap. It was recklessness defined.

  Then reality, and the hardy bulk of the dragon, came crashing home. I slammed into her side. The impact elicited a roar that rattled my helmet. She did not appreciate my presence. The runic greatsword jammed almost to the hilt in her belly also probably annoyed her a little.

  I didn’t have the chance to clear the ringing from my ears before she acted. I felt the thrum of magic around me. Using my sword to hold myself aloft, I unslung my shield and summoned a barrier around my body. The glimmering golden field of light held strong against the barrage of raw magic she unleashed. The blue orbs burst into puffs of prismatic light that quickly began to irritate my eyes. No chance of friendly fire either, as the magical resistance in her scales would shrug off such unrefined magical attacks, even if those same blue orbs could burn through my steel armor like it was wax.

  “Get off me,” a booming voice resounded around me. It was clearly feminine but extremely loud and coming from every direction around me. Now I knew what the magically projected voice of a dragon sounded like when you were on top of one. Or on the side of one, given that she hadn’t changed direction.

  It worried me that she ignored my attack and kept flying straight.

  Change of plans, then. I summoned my strength and flipped myself upward, pulling my sword free. I landed high enough on the dragon that I didn’t need to start scaling her like a cliff—which was good, as I didn’t have the leverage to punch another hole in her scales. That was a one-time trick.

  “I said,” she boomed, “get off!”

  I recognized the sound of somebody about to do something rash because she was irritated. What I lacked was the appropriate means to deal with her right now. The dragon was turning over in mid-air.

  Staying up here was not going to work. My sword would bounce off her scales and she had the power of gravity at her disposal. I had no other plan to fight her unless I got to her head fast enough. Given her sheer bulk and the rapid speed with which she was turning herself over right now, that was not going to happen.

  With a sigh, I resigned myself to a rapid descent but at least decided to try something first. I took a running leap and used the momentum she was generating to propel myself higher into the air as she spun around. Gravity pulled me down, but this time, her underbelly was exposed. As I fell, I gathered up all the magical power I could muster into my sword.

  She saw me at the last moment. Her body jerked away with a blast of air but it was too little too late for her. I held my focus and slammed into her side with a chop of my sword. My blade scored deeply into her elongated neck. Blood poured out above me as I continued to fall, gravity dragging me and my sword through the side of her neck. I fell, pulling my sword free. Great gouts of blood came with it.

  Her roar of pain distracted me from my fall and the incoming hard landing. It was worth it to at least give her an injury she would remember. I wondered if it would scar.

  Chapter 9

  My fall was broken by the backs of a pair of extremely unlucky Imperial soldiers. I checked before landing, in case I needed to alt
er my momentum slightly. Better them than me, as cruel as it was.

  “Dropping into the battlefield to capture my heart in a fit of violence, boss. You’re just the best,” said a blonde-haired female oni I could have done without meeting today. She was short, almost a head shorter than Miyasa, even when accounting for horns. “Lithe” was the word to describe her, particularly as she lacked Miyasa’s impressive bust. Her general attractiveness was matched by her capacity for violence, made clear by her wicked sickle-like blade that was almost as large as she was.

  “Not enough violence, Hish. That dragon is still flying,” I said, moving to pull myself up. I didn’t get the chance. A mass of female hands manifested around me and hoisted me to my feet.

  For a moment, I questioned whether I was on the battlefield. Being surrounded by attractive women was not normal for a battlefield. Then I saw the masses of blood covering the oni who were cooing over me, and reality came rushing back.

  Maybe Hish wasn’t wrong about a barbarian-like appearance making them more fearsome. These oni looked less like they were wearing scraps from forgotten battlefields now that they were covered in the blood of their enemies. A few had even picked up new trophies. Lyria’s bright golden crests stood out like sore thumbs compared to the faded blue of their old loot.

  “Ooh, a man after my own heart,” Hish said with a grin. She paused, her grin turning lopsided. “Wait, dragon? Isn’t Miya shooting that down?” she continued while covering her eyes and looking up at the sky. “Oh wow, there’s a second one now. Color-coded, too. Somehow I missed that in this slaughter. Hate to say this, but these guys are kind of soft compared to you. No good trophies to ride at all. When do the elites come out to play? We like strong guys.”

  Technically, these were some of the elites of the Empire. We were surrounded by the broken, bleeding corpses of hundreds of the Empire’s finest soldiers. Saying that felt rather sad, so I kept silent.

  There was a surreal quality to this moment. The screams, the shouts, and the clatter of weapons in the distance. Ash and smoke filled the air. There was blood everywhere. Two dragons flapped about, threatening fiery destruction at any moment. Yet I stood here, being fawned over by a gaggle of female oni who I suspected would quite happily strip my armor off. It was all too easy to do something I really shouldn’t right now.

  Maybe later. That red dragon bearing down on me looked mighty unhappy.

  I glanced around me. This appeared to be the far edge of the battlefront. Hish had pushed well ahead of any encirclement by the rearguard. I hadn’t fallen too far off track from the dragon’s original path. That meant I could quell any worries about mass casualties from the dragon’s strafing run even if I failed, so long as I could keep her attention on me.

  The red dragon bore down on me, her maw open and filled with fiery fury. I rolled my shoulders and calmly stepped forward with a plan in mind.

  “Hish, make sure everybody is behind me,” I said. Fear had set into the oni by now, so they rapidly obeyed, forming ranks, for as little good as it would do.

  Flames, blue at first and then clear white, burst forth from the dragon. Not a speck of red could be seen in pure dragonfire, such was its heat and power.

  I casually unslung my shield as death approached, then slammed it point-first into the dirt. I pumped every ounce of magical energy my body could muster into the rune engraved on the back of the steel. The rune glowed magnificently, visible even through the wooden backing of the shield that normally hid it from view.

  A field of golden light sprung into existence. It spanned more than a hundred meters on either side of the shield. It didn’t shimmer like most barriers, instead appearing more like a frosted-over windowpane.

  The fire exploded against the field of light. The heat was so great that I felt it even on this side of the barrier. Or perhaps that was nerves. Hard to say. I held onto the shield for a moment longer, pumping yet more energy into the barrier. I watched as endless streams of fire flared out for tens of meters on either side of the shield.

  Then I let go, stepped back, and admired my handiwork. The jet of flame continued for several more seconds, growing more and more concentrated. Something was amiss, the dragon surely realized. Why couldn’t it hear any screams? Instead, there was only a huddle of oni staring slack-jawed behind me.

  When the dragon stopped breathing fiery death at me, the golden barrier still stood strong. My rune still stood strong. The dragon stared at me, as if questioning whether I actually still existed or if I was a vision tormenting her from beyond the grave. Would I haunt her sight forever? Was I a twisted ghost that had cursed the scar left in her neck?

  Then I pulled my flask from my hip. I unscrewed it and took a big, long gulp of water. She knew that I was very real—and that I was taunting her.

  All she had to do was fly up and around the barrier and melt the rest of my army. Marshal Lyria would surely praise her for everything she had done, whatever the result of the rest of the battle.

  I held both of my hands out to my sides and shrugged at her. Then I took another gulp of water.

  She roared in fury. In shame. Another jet of fire flared at the barrier as if she could melt it through raw power. This one was extremely concentrated, barely larger than my body in width and focused on my shield.

  It went on for an eternity. Long enough for me to get nervous, in any case. The rune wasn’t all-powerful. It just amplified barriers for a fixed period. The cost was that it couldn’t be moved while active. Hence why I hid the rune in the shield. If somebody with knowledge of runes saw how I pulled this off, he could easily work around it. This was genuine magic rather than the sorcery or spiritualism we actually used. It relied on the mind. A parlor trick, almost.

  This was one of the most effective tactics I knew: tying down a more dangerous opponent through frustration or anger, even if you cannot battle her. Being as obnoxious as possible won battles. An opponent who lacked reason would focus solely on what she wanted to erase from this world rather than what she actually wanted to achieve. This dragon had forgotten her objective. All she thought of was killing me.

  Eventually, the dragon stopped. Her breathing was ragged. The rune had dimmed but held fast.

  The wailing of the wounded filled the air. The dragon looked around, as if she was only now taking in the catastrophe of this battle and the enormous damage I had wrought. Human wreckage had replaced the army she had been entrusted with. In the distance, another dragon flew in evasive patterns as he played a game with Miyasa.

  The pair of dragons flew off, roaring in defiance. I couldn’t celebrate. These weren’t even young adult dragons. I suspected they were teenagers with larger bodies than normal. The amount of magic she had been able to use and the defensive strength of her scales had given her age away. I had enough experience and knowledge of the race to at least know that these weren’t true adult dragons.

  Without knowing exactly how, I had won my first battle against the Rogistran Empire. Cheers filled the battlefield, ale and wine our mouths that same night. Yet even a pair of overgrown teenage dragons given far too much responsibility had nearly broken us. I needed something to counter them with. Without it, all of my ambitions meant nothing. The oni would be wasted.

  Chapter 10

  Night fell, and with it came a historic celebration. Ale, wine, and food changed hands between chatting oni and Imperial soldiers. Ex-Imperial soldiers, I reminded myself, although I wondered if these particular men and women still thought of themselves as part of the Rogistran Empire. We still wore a uniform that bore the emblem of the seven-headed hydra and the same color scheme, and they were fighting under an esteemed magister-general appointed by the former emperor himself. Did this look like a civil war to them?

  It didn’t matter, I decided. What did matter was that this was the first time in known history that oni and humans from the Empire had sat and celebrated a victory together. I looked forward to when it would be a celebration involving the veterans still back in th
e Nahaum Pass. The Empire might have moved toward a professional military long ago, but it was an insult to the elites we slaughtered to call these glorified town guards professional soldiers.

  I wandered past the many fires and gatherings of soldiers. Greetings were had and idle chatter filled the air. No small number of tankards were downed in a single go to the cheers of men and women. Especially the women, almost all of whom were oni.

  My view of women was being shifted forcibly by the oni, I felt. The same could be said of most of the other human men here, but I questioned their resistance.

  Eventually, I made my way back to the gathering of officers. Ilsa had joined us at some point, raising a tankard to me with a bright smile. Evidently, the cheer had infected her enough that she wasn’t concerned that I abandoned her to deal with paperwork back at Tornfrost Watch.

  “Been away so long and not even stumbling, boss. Some boss you are,” Hish shouted at me, her voice almost deafening. She exuded alcohol. “Have a few. Come on.”

  She rose and walked toward me, wavering as she did so. Two tankards hovered in front of my face. I took one, saw she was still looking up at me expectantly, and knocked it back before taking the other.

  “Let me enjoy this one, will you?” I said, raising an eyebrow at her. The chuckles of the officers were drowned out by the surrounding cheers of the soldiers, who were all watching expectantly. Reputation was a funny thing.

  “Woooow, you really don’t feel alcohol,” Hish slurred, frowning as she struggled to stay upright. “No wonder you’re always so cranky. No sex, no getting drunk, dealing with Miya all day, every day.”

 

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