Opening Moves (The Lion Knight Book 1)

by Aurelius L. Zero

A wall of darkness that can’t be seen through until your whole body is on the other side? Who the hell thought of something like this?

  “I want five minutes with the man, just five.”

  Seeing no sign of Johann returning through the veil, the mercenaries grew tense, expecting another fight for their lives to follow shortly.

  Just as he was about to give the order to unload on the entrance and blow up anything hiding behind it, Johann came through the door.

  “Damnit son, what the hell were you doing up there? I nearly had you shot!”

  “Sorry sir, I was scouting out the place and the level above. There are none of those flying contraptions on the floors above us.”

  “You… never mind, how many levels did you investigate?”

  “The seventh and the eighth sir! I couldn’t find any ambush points either and I decided to come back to report instead of going to the ninth.”

  “Good work, it’s just as well you did. The ninth level is almost certainly an ambush waiting to happen.”

  “Sir?”

  “I’d bet my soul that there’s an ambush up there. My gut says that they’ll give us a free pass until the second last level where they’ll hit us with everything they’ve got.”

  Eyes narrowed into slits as he ran through the possibilities in his head, Denzel allowed none of his doubts to show on his face. He couldn’t afford to spook the men any further.

  “Just in case I’m wrong, keep your eyes peeled, I don’t need anyone letting down their guard yet.”

  Denzel grit his teeth in frustration at the prospect of having to lead the men into yet another death trap.

  Just because he could see the ambush coming didn’t mean they could do anything about it.

  Gripping his pistol so tight that his knuckles turned white, his mouth set in a grim line as he stepped through the veil.

  True to Johann’s report, there was nothing amiss. Broken stone furniture lay scattered around the place and a healthy layer of dust covered everything.

  Making their way up to the eighth level in silence, a small measure of relief spread through them as they moved through unmolested.

  At the precipice to the ninth floor, the Iron Wolves paused momentarily and looked to their commander for instructions.

  “Alright men, this is it. Most likely what’s left of our foes await us on the other side of this wall. It is my belief that they won’t attack until all of us are present. So we move slow, gives us more time to prepare. Once in there, form a circle. Those in the centre aim at the ceiling. Those at the edge direct your attention to the walls and any possible location that they might be hiding in. Front row prone, second row kneel and third row stand. Stagger your fire and make sure not to hit any allies or so help me I will end you.”

  “““““SIR!”””””

  With that, they made their way through the darkness and onto the ninth floor, ready to face whatever may come.

  Outwardly the level looked the same as the last two they just cleared.

  Broken masonry scattered around the place and a large amount of dust hung suspended in the air.

  There was a faint smell hanging about the place, it was familiar to Denzel but he couldn’t place where he had smelt it before. Other than that nothing seemed out of place.

  Everything looked normal. Too normal.

  Denzel’s instincts were screaming at him that this was a setup. After a lifetime’s worth of battles, he wasn’t about to ignore his gut today. As the men formed up around him, his finger rested lightly on the trigger.

  Eyes darting about the place, he did his best to spot the ambush troops.

  The lighting on the level was very much different from the previous levels. One, the place itself was far dimmer, two there seemed to be additional lights installed to make up for it, three the extra lights were playing hell with his vision as they constantly swayed, causing the shadows to dance.

  Wait… swaying lights… but no wind? And that smell, it’s… SHIT!

  His eyes snapped open in realisation as he beheld the true nature of the ambush.

  Noticing one of his men coming to a similar conclusion but missing the second trap, terror flooded through Denzel as he saw the man raise his gun to fire.

  Doing his best to call out a warning not to fire, he belatedly realised that he wasn’t going to make it in time.

  As the rifle fired, the world exploded in blinding light.

  Shocked by the sudden illumination, the rest opened fire indiscriminately. Robbed of their vision, all they could do was spray and pray. Denzel’s order to keep their eyes peeled was really doing them in now.

  The vice-commander was the only man who kept his eyes shut for the duration of the flare and even he had spots burned into his vision.

  Eyes watering in irritation, he lifted his pistol and fired in the general direction of the lights. Swearing he pushed aside the stumbling men around him and tried to fire again.

  In his half-blindness all of his shots went wide.

  Rapidly blinking to clear away the spots that obstructed half his vision, he tried to bring his men to some semblance of order.

  “THE LIGHTS! SHOOT AT THE LIGHTS!”

  Fortunately for them, their hearing remained untouched by the blinding flare.

  Those who still had their wits about them lifted their rifles and pistols and opened up on the swaying lights to the best of their abilities.

  Unfortunately for them their blindness hampered them greatly and the counterattack was devastating.

  Red beams of death rained from the ceiling, incinerating the hapless fools below.

  Out of the corner of his watery eyes, Denzel noticed the ‘lights’ detach from the ceiling and start circling their position.

  Teeth clenched in rage, Denzel bitterly cursed himself for failing to acknowledge the fact that the enemy might be camouflaged instead of simply hiding.

  The one place they failed to account for happened to be the one place the Raynaxes were.

  Then again, few people would be paranoid enough to assume that the simple light fixtures installed in a room are actually killing machines in disguise.

  Fewer yet would consider that the very dust in the air would actually be flash powder that was weaponised against them.

  The blindness coupled with the confusion created by the counteroffensive sent the mercenaries into disarray.

  The Raynaxes this time were moving to pick off as many as they could, no longer bothering to return fire on those shooting at them.

  Teeth bared, the pissed off commander unloaded on one of three accursed flying tin cans, roaring in satisfaction as he saw it go up in a ball of flames.

  “ONE DOWN! TWO TO GO, ALL UNITS FOCUS YOUR FIRE ON THOSE BASTARDS AND BRING THEM DOWN!”

  Rallying to their leader’s cry, the men managed to coordinate a proper counter response.

  Blue bolts clashed against red beams and as the vision of nearly everyone in the room was still shot to hell, the battle took on a nightmarish quality for them.

  By the time the last of the Raynaxes had crashed and burned, nigh everyone was hyperventilating and clutching their weapons close.

  Eyes bloodshot, they were twitching at every shadow… including their own.

  The ambush had seriously jarred them all, none of them had ever dealt with an ambush of this sort.

  Being jumped by hostile infantry in the darkness? Been there. Being blasted with artillery fire out of the blue? Done that. Walk right smack into an enemy tank division? Got the scars to prove it.

  But this… having one of their senses stripped away without any prior warning and instantly under siege by an inhuman enemy?

  This they had never dealt with in the past, nothing even came close.

  It was plain to see that most had already passed their breaking point, only shock kept them realising that fact, ironic as it was.

  Denzel ordered his men into position with a heavy heart, despite the cruelty of that act, it was a necessary one
.

  Giving them too much time to think right now would send some into shock or cause others to snap into a violent rage at their comrades once their minds caught up with what they’d just been through.

  And Denzel could ill afford that, not if he wanted any of them to return in one piece.

  Staring at the forty or so remaining men, they were a sorry sight.

  Coated in blood, dust and grime, and looking shell-shocked, these were not battle hardened men. These were men who had stared into the depths of hell and left a good portion of themselves back there.

  “Into position now! We have done well to come this far men. Through that veil lies the final level, our prize lies just beyond that. I know you’re tired, I know you’re wounded, I know… you’re scared. I ask of you all, to give of yourself one last time.”

  Observing the expectant faces of his charges staring back at him, each one tired, each one hopeful, each one a man who in two hours had been through more than most would in their lives.

  Denzel sucked in a deep breath and held it there for a moment before exhaling.

  Deep down wondering if any of them would live to see out the day, the weary commander pushed on with his speech.

  “The enemy has thrown their best against us, and we have weathered the storm. They expect us to flee with our tail between our legs or crawl to them begging for mercy.” Face contorted into a snarl, Denzel allowed his anger to infect the men. Angry soldiers were hardly optimal but by far the better choice when the only other option was soldiers on their last legs.

  Baring his teeth in a feral grin as he saw the men’s tempers flare, their exhaustion washing away in the process.

  “Well… We. Are. Still. STANDING! AND WE WILL NOT FALTER HERE, NOT WHEN OUR GOAL IS IN SIGHT! THEY EXPECT US BEATEN! THEY EXPECT US BROKEN! THEY EXPECT US TO RUN LIKE COWARDLY DOGS! Well… I have only one thing to say to that. What are we?”

  “““““WOLVES!”””””

  “UM HMMPH, DAMN RIGHT WE ARE! AND NOW… NOW WE WILL SHOW THEM WHAT IT MEANS TO MESS WITH THE IRON WOLVES! WHO’S WITH ME?”

  “““““OOOH AHHH!”””””

  “EXCELLENT! READY UP!”

  Satisfied that the men had their morale boosted, Denzel allowed himself a small pat on the back for a job well done.

  Through it all, he didn’t fail to notice that the last few remaining Allant supporters were glaring murderously at him.

  Clearly they thought his actions were a way for him to usurp Allant’s power instead of an act of survival.

  Noting that they were standing closer to the stairs than anyone else, and generally apart from the rest, he wondered if his suspicions would prove through.

  With everything they’ve thrown at us so far, I wouldn’t be surprised if they had more conventional traps waiting just ahead.

  At this point I half believe there’s a tank waiting for us on the other side.

  Although… I am pretty sure it’s going to be a standard trap. Nothing extraordinary.

  What better way to surprise someone expecting everything but the most obvious, mundane things?

  Idly walking over to a still smouldering pile of wreckage. Denzel lifted the broken twisted piece of metal. Looking it over, he decided it fit his purposes.

  Walking to the stairs, he tossed the hunk into the darkness with one mighty swing of his left arm.

  When nothing happened, Denzel simply quirked one eyebrow and waited.

  Odd. Did I miss the throw? Something should hav- ah here we go.

  The first sign he had triggered something was the rumbling in his feet. Without warning several large rocks flew out of the veil and came crashing down the stairs.

  Unable to react in time, Allant’s men stood with their mouths agape as the crushing wave bore down on them.

  It was bloody. It was violent. It was terrific. And it was most cathartic for Denzel as he watched on in interest as the boulders smashed straight through them.

  After all the crap he had to put up with, the sound of bones shattering and screams being cut short was music to his ears.

  His sole regret was that it ended so quickly, else he would have gained far more enjoyment from their demise.

  A wry smile slid across his face as he contemplated the nature of the trap.

  Heh, rocks… they’re throwing rocks at us now.

  Why am I not surprised?

  First engage us with lasers then switch it up to a boulder trap, why the hell not? It’s exactly what Wilhelm would have done. If he was here, he’d get along splendidly with the enemy strategist.

  The true threat is always the one you least expect.

  “How unfortunate. Their loss will be felt, but now we advance. Ready your weapons.”

  Without waiting for his men to reply, he checked his pistol and began his assent.

  -*-

  “Damn they sprung the trap early.”

  “Squire?”

  “I can’t believe someone actually expected such a trap. Milady, prepare the barrier! Professor, I suggest you cloak now and stay back this time, being hit by stray fire is not a good way to go.”

  “HIIIIIIIII! I don’t want to die!” The panicky man squealed before his magic took hold and he faded from view.

  Leon trained his eyes on the doorway, a lightning spell already prepared for the first man through.

  A simple twitch of his fingers and Geahart was in position. Funnelling a steady supply of flux into the puppet, Leon increased the processor output of his puppet.

  Too many left to take on without setting Geahart to full auto mode.

  Well, at least this way I don't have to concentrate on having Geahart dodge everything and my own battles at the same time.

  This is going to be expensive, can’t keep this up forever so gotta end this fast.

  Leon was still slightly disappointed by the Raix units’ inability to send the mercenaries packing.

  He was however sure that the Iron Wolves had sustained horrific losses on their way up. Why they refused to retreat was beyond him.

  Face set in a frown, he was a little worried at where things stood at the moment.

  The mercenary force was tired, wounded and severely reduced in strength. On the other hand, Leon was operating at less than fifty percent at the moment.

  His reserves had not replenished from the first assault and constantly feeding Geahart his power further drained him. Noire wasn’t really a combatant and the professor was just dead weight at this point.

  The ebony haired noble’s barrier formed just as the first of the mercenaries came through the veil. A shimmering blue dome formed around the group, shielding them from all angles.

  Leon’s first lightning blast went wide as he failed to account for the man diving through the opening instead of simply charging through.

  The man had tucked his head in, rolled and leapt to the side before snapping of a quick series of shots. Leon didn’t even blink as the flux rounds impacted against the shield and dissipated harmlessly.

  More and more men poured through the veil and spread out across the place as the first man through rose to his feet. It was then Leon got his first good look at the leader.

  The man was a wreck. One arm in a sling and near completely covered in blood and grime, in fact it was hard to find a spot on him not coloured red.

  A smoking flux pistol pointed at Leon in his good left arm, his face was blank and Leon was unable to get a read on him.

  Looking to his men, the puppeteer noted that they were in roughly the same shape as their leader.

  All looked dead on their feet, but steel was all he could see in their eyes. A fire burned there that in all honesty Leon didn’t think he could put out.

  Credit where credit was due, Leon was impressed by the men’s fortitude… even if he was disturbed by their current state.

  Why do they still fight? Haven’t they been through enough?

  Noire was shaking again and Leon placed one calming hand on her shoulder. Befor
e he could say anything however, the leader of the mercenaries spoke up.

  “You must be the blasted magician I’ve been hearing about from the men. And the one in blue, I take it you’re the demon knight. I have no quarrel with either of you, and while I would love to exact payback for what you did to my men… I have a job to do. Will you not hand over the girl so we can leave peacefully?”

  “You seem like a reasonable sort. It is a shame fate had us meet as foes. You have your job, I understand that.” Geahart said with a disarming smile on his face, before wiping it away and drawing his sword.

  “But we also have ours. I have sworn on my honour to defend the lady at all costs. I will not abandon my duty here.”

  “I cannot back down here good knight, the orders given to me are absolute.”

  “So, we are at an impasse then.”

  Shaking his head in disappointment at the answer, the leader sighed and gave his reply by pointing his pistol at Geahart.

  “No… no, we are at an end. Victory or death.”

  “So be it.”

  Breaking out into a sprint, Geahart charged the man, dodging the opening salvo in the process.

  “Victory or death.”

  Chapter 7: Showdown

  The clanging of steel and the steady ‘crack’ ‘crack’ ‘crack’ of rifles discharging filled the tenth floor of the Vitae tower. Blue flux bolts gouged holes in the floor where they missed or exploded harmlessly against the azure dome in the centre of the room.

  Lightning flashed overhead as Leon unleased a flurry of lightning bolts and a trio of gunners trying to wear down the barrier.

  A brief surge of elation filled him as he sent the men flying back and crumpling against the far wall. Redirecting his focus to a second group of mercenaries menacing his puppet, he let loose a second burst of lightning.

  As his spell found their marks and his targets screamed in agony, his high left him and his brows knitted together in a frown.

  Why won’t they stay down? Do they really intend to die here?

  Out of the corner of his eyes, the puppeteer caught sight of his first three targets struggling to get to their feet.

  Clearly wounded and in pain, they rose, determined to fight to the bitter end. Using their rifles to prop themselves up, they swayed unsteadily before raising their weapons and firing.