"We need to get up there," yelled Jackie to her partners, preparing her swords.
"There's a lot of archers up there," said Izabella, a doubtful expression on her face.
"That's why we have the good armor," said Gregor with a smile.
Jackie nodded. At first, it hadn't seemed fair that they would get the best protection when they were the only ones who could heal just about any wound, almost instantly. Almost all of the other soldiers in the army could only heal if there was a priest with that power nearby, and there were never enough priests.
Kurt had explained it to her. It was like the times when he fought, when there were some very powerful tanks, and some that were not quite so. The best crews were given the behemoths that not only had the most powerful weapons, but the best armor, because they were the killers. The longer they could stay alive, the more they could do for their side. Immortals might be hard to kill, but serious wounds could put them out of action. When they were out of action, others on their side were deprived of their special gifts. In that case battles were lost and people on their side died.
"Just make sure you cover your head," said Jackie, regretting for once that she wasn't wearing a helmet. None of the immortals were, for some reason. She thought that was not very smart now that they were in a situation where helms would come in handy. A head wound could incapacitate one of them faster than anything could. A wound to the brain, while healed by their metabolisms, would still lead to a loss of memories, up to and including destruction of personality. She made a decision to find a good helm at the end of this battle.
"Let's go," she shouted, and went into overdrive, moving faster than the most agile elf ever.
The world seemed to slow down around her; the dwarves slowly raising their shields as shafts came falling in at the speed of snowflakes. Jackie was up among them and pushing through, her blades raised into the air, flashing with flame and ice crystals as she cut down the arrows, protecting herself and the dwarves. Izabella was right beside her, protected by her shield, while her own blade cut through arrows. Gregor occupied the rear, his bulk not moving as fast as their lithe forms, his hammer not a good weapon for knocking arrows out of the air. Still, he did his part, and intercepted some.
Suddenly the arrows hit something and slowed down to the point where even the dwarves could knock them down. Someone had raised an inertial field, something that robbed speeding objects of their force, channeling the energy back into the field to continue slowing down the weapons. Jackie found that her blades were moving just as fast, so the field had to be above them. Where it came from she didn't know, and she wasn't about to spend time and energy worrying about it now.
With the arrows no longer the major concern she concentrated on hitting the Orcs to her front. Every one of the creatures out massed her, but as she had learned in her physics classes, velocity was the more important component of force than mass. She ran into them faster than their eyes could follow, her blades a whirlwind of fire and ice. Orcs to her right side found their blood boiling to steam as the flaming blade penetrated their bodies. Those to her right froze for twenty centimeters around the strike, pieces shattering. She clove the head of one on her right, turning brains to pinkish steam. A strike to the left sliced into the leg of a big Orc, the member shattering and dropping him to the ground.
Izabella moved to her left, smashing her shield into the faces of growling beast men, her sword clearing the area to the extent of its length. Gregor was to her right, his hammer smashing Orcs, collapsing heads and helms. A sideward swing stove in the ribs of a giant Orc, flinging him into his fellows to knock them down like bowling pins.
The Orcs were large, slow and strong. The beings they were being assaulted by were extremely fast and much stronger. Some weapons made it through to clang onto armor that they couldn't penetrate. The immortals protected their heads and necks, really their only vulnerable parts through their heavily enchanted armor. Some of the Ellala had weapons that would penetrate, but the Orcs had not been thought worth the effort.
Gregor cursed as an Orc-ish blade cut the side of his face, turning to bring his hammer down on the creature. The huge warhammer smashed helmet and skull and drove the already dead creature to his knees. The facial wound would have continued to bleed on most people, but on the Russian immortal it closed up almost instantly. In less than a minute, it was a scar. By the end of the day even the scar would be almost unnoticeable. Infection was not an issue, despite the filthy nature of the Orc weapons.
The dwarven warriors pushed to the sides, widening the front, and Jackie slowed her progress so the small, stout warriors could stay with the immortals. They were also more than a match for the Orcs, one of their natural enemies. Some fell to lucky strikes, or to the efforts of particularly skilled warriors, but many more Orcs fell to the axes and hammers of the dwarves.
The fight seemed to go on for hours, but could only have been more than ten minutes or so. A line of bodies stretched behind Jackie, the two score or more Orcs she had slaughtered. Now the ranks of Orcs were thinning, and a line of Ellala warriors were visible ahead. This was a much more dangerous opponent. Not as strong, but much faster and as agile as anything one was likely to meet on this world. With finer armor and very good weapons, these were creatures who could trade blows with the strong but clumsy dwarves and give better than they got. That left it up to the immortals to bring the battle to the Ellala, and teach them they were no longer the best warriors on this world.
* * *
The Demon God had not finished his transformation by the time Kurt reached it. None of the other demons tried to interfere. They were too busy fending off the angels that might also try to mob their master. That was the good news. The bad news was that the god had increased in size to just under the mass of an ordinary great wyrm red dragon.
Kurt swung his blade into the first part of the creature he could reach, a massive clawed arm. The sword hit scales that could resist any ordinary blade, any arrow. The Paladin blade was sharp enough to cut through the toughest armor, and it sliced into the arm, through the scales and into the muscle underneath releasing a spurt of hot blood. The dragon let out a deep roar and flung the immortal away, to land on his back a hundred meters from the beast.
The immortal lay there, stunned for some moments, his vision blurred. He tried to move, and the agonizing pain shot through his left side, ribs, arm and leg. He could tell the bones were broken, and if not for his peculiar abilities he would have been out of the battle and in hospital for possibly months. Now he only needed time, which in and of itself would not have been a bad thing, since he really could have used the rest. But his companions couldn't afford to have him out of the fight for long.
Kurt forced himself up, feeling his bones knitting and still in great pain. He raised himself up in time to see Paul getting batted away as well, while Levine was struggling to get out of the other claw that was holding him tight. The demon god looked down on the oldest of the immortals, murder in its eyes. It had reached its full size, and the large man looked like a tiny doll in its claw. The great mouth opened, and it looked like Levine was about to go into the maw and down the gullet. Even his abilities would not save him if that happened. Kurt cried out, unable to do anything else. Fortunately for Levine, the German was not the only aid on the field of battle.
A major angel flew into the maw of the dragon, sword slashing, cutting into its tongue and then the roof of the mouth. Two of the lesser angels flew to the claw that was holding Levine and slashed, one on several digits, the other to the wrist. The dragon roared out, then clamped its jaws shut, its enormous teeth piercing the angel. Before it could swallow, the being coverted to motes of light and was heading upward, into the clouds. The lesser angels kept slashing at its claw until it opened and dropped Levine. The ancient immortal landed on his back, crying out in pain. Kurt wouldn't have been surprised if the other immortal didn't have a broken back and ribs from being crushed in that huge claw and dropped to the ground.<
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The Dragon God swatted the angels away, and then started to reach down for Levine, who was lying helpless on his back. It had almost reached him when something else caught its attention, and it looked up at the sky. Kurt turned to see what it was looking at, his mouth opening in shock as an enormous gold dragon dropped through the clouds, flapping its enormous wings and landing with a shaking of the earth.
"What the hell is that?" asked Paul, running up to Kurt.
"Melatafolis," said Kurt, staring at the beautiful golden beast. It had horns, much like those of the red, and spines on different parts of its body, but for some reason it looked kinder, and no evil radiated from it.
"Melata-what?"
"Me and Levine met it when we first came here. A messenger of Arathonia, she said, an angel. Though it appears she's a little more than just an angel." Kurt looked over at where Levine was struggling to his feet, still hurt even with his miraculous healing abilities.
"We need to get Levine out of there," said the German to the Brit. "I think we're about to watch a rerun of Godzilla versus King Gidorah. And I don't want our friend underneath."
Paul nodded and followed his leader in a fast run toward the other immortal. Kurt worried that the dragon would notice them and breathe fire on them, and if it was dragonfire, and not the mage thrown magical kind, they would burn, probably to ash. There was no healing from that, but the red only had eyes for the other dragon, his sworn enemy.
"Melatafolis," said the red in a roaring voice. "Arathonia must be worried if she sends you to this mud ball."
"The queen would have no worries if Bothar didn't send his errand boy here," roared the gold. "And how many centuries has it been since Lukutheris had come to the world of mortals?"
"Too long. I had forgotten that there were so many tender morsels, so many pure souls to eat. To pull down to the hells of my master."
"These beings fight for my mistress," said the gold, rearing up and presenting her forward claws to the red. "They are not yours to harvest."
"All are mine to harvest. You will not save these, and perhaps you will not be returning to this world for some centuries yourself."
Kurt and Paul were helping Levine away from the danger zone. The angels and demons were still battling it out, leaving the huge monsters to be taken care of by the monster on their side.
"They mean to kill each other," said Levine, the sweating face showing that he was still in great pain, though his limp was receding. "If they can kill one of their own kind."
"Probably like the demons," shouted Kurt over the roars of the dragons as they first tried intimidation. "They can't really die. But if destroyed on this plane, they're forbidden to return for some time."
"Kind of makes it a not so risky proposition to fight, doesn't it," said Paul, glancing back at the red. "If you lose, the only penalty is a term in prison, and then you're out."
The roars increased, and Kurt turned them around as they reached the top of a small rise, Levine no longer needing support. Both of the great beasts stood on their hind legs, claws flailing the air, wings out. Their mouths were open in their roaring, until the red let out a gout of almost white-hot flame. Melatafolis returned the favor, a stream of white-hot incandescence flowing from her mouth to meet that of her enemy. The flames met, forming a ball that looked like a sun. The immortals all shaded their faces and eyes, feeling the great heat from a hundred meters away. This went on for almost a minute, until both seemed to realize that they were too evenly matched, and were getting nowhere trading their breath weapons. Both stopped as if on a signal, and started running toward each other, still up on their hind legs.
The ground shook like an earthquake when the two multi-thousand ton bodies met, claws grasping and raking. It was indeed like watching two Kaiju from the movies collide. Only this was real, and they were here. Watching a battle that would decide their fates.
* * *
[What the hell is going on there, General?] Zachary Taylor asked by mindspeak. Taylor was not very powerful in the telepathy that served so many on this world. He had a com officer skilled in the art with him, taking his transmission and boosting it on, while returning the signal to his commander.
[You're not going to believe this, sir,] said Delgado in return, the near panic coming back through the transmission. [We have a battle between demons and angels. And if that wasn't enough, two of the biggest dragons any of us have ever seen are going into a cage match against each other.]
[You're right, General. I don't believe it.]
[Then see for yourself, sir.]
The image came through the link, as if Taylor were looking through the eyes of his field commander. The sky was filled with winged shapes, red and silver, good and evil, and he didn't need the general officer to tell him which was which. And in the center of that aerial battle two of the largest creatures he had ever seen were clawing and biting at each other. The sound of their fighting came over the link, and though it didn't hurt his ears, since he wasn't actually receiving the sound waves, he could tell that it was deafening.
"My God," he said under his breath, knowing that none of these creatures had anything to do with the god he had grown up believing in. [What happens if the red wins?]
[Then I guess we are all going to die] said Delgado, his fear again coming through the link.
[The hell with that, General. I want you to do whatever you can to attack that red beast. Help the gold.]
[Are you kidding me, sir? We don't have anything that can penetrate that damned thing's hide.]
[And McGurk killed a great wyrm with his armored cav company, Delgado. So don't tell me it can't be done. Do it.]
Taylor killed the transmission so the field commander could take care of business. The supreme commander knew he had given the other officer an impossible order. McGurk had used three of the one hundred twenty millimeter silver bullet penetrators to kill the red wyrm. Delgado had nothing like that in his inventory, but he had to do something other than sit and watch in terror. He didn't think running was an option. If they could distract the red long enough to allow the gold to get in a killing strike, it would be worth the effort. Because if the red won, it looked like he might no longer have a field army.
Chapter Twenty-five
"What the hell is that?" asked Jackie as she fended off the twin blades of a particularly skilled Ellala. "King Kong?"
The ground shook under foot, and deep roars sounded from beyond the walls.
"Kaiju fight," said Gregor in heavily accented English, his hammer beating through the guard of an Ellala and crushing his skull.
Jackie could feel the sweat running down her body as her internal temperature ratcheted up. There was a price to pay for going into overdrive. Cells started to die. Muscle and organ cells could regenerate without problem. Even the nerves could regenerate, but the connections they lost in their brains could not be replaced. All the cells would regenerate and become good as new, but the memories they contained in their connections could be lost forever. She didn't want to lose any of those memories. Memories of her mother and father, quite likely dead. Of uncles and aunts and cousins of her extended family. The first boy she had kissed, and the first she had given herself to in the backseat of a car. The memories lost would be random, she would have no choice over what would stay or go. She might not even realize which ones she was missing, but if she didn't fight at this level, her side would lose.
"What the hell is a kaiju?" she asked through gritted teeth as her swords sped past those of the Ellala. The elf was skilled, and he was graceful, but he could not match her speed. The blades both went into his throat, one just below the chin, the other into the cleft between the sides of the collarbone. The Ellala's eyes took on a brief look of shock before the competing forces of the blades blew his neck apart, flinging his head off his body to strike the elf to his right. The body crumpled to the ground. Jackie took advantage of the distraction to the other Ellala to remove his head from his body with Ice, and prepared fo
r the next one in line.
"Kaiju," said Gregor, accepting a blow to his armored forelimb that slid off. "You know, those movies from Japan about the giant monsters stomping on cities."
Jackie smiled at the image, and then frowned. Whatever it was fighting out there, they sounded about as big as those Japanese monsters, but on this world, they could well be real. And her lover was out there involved in it somehow.
The Ellala to her front hesitated for a moment. They were not cowards, but after seeing scores of their own go down to the three whirlwinds at the front of the line, anyone would hesitate. They were doing better to the sides where the dwarves were fighting with all they had. The small, stout warriors were losing almost two to one against the faster opponents, but there was no give in them. Some of their champions were winning every fight, their strong armor and powerful bodies wreaking havoc among the slighter warriors.
"Look out," yelled Jackie, bringing her swords back to her front.
A line of Ellala archers had stepped to the front. The arrows coming from above were still hitting an inertial field that must have been erected by a powerful mage among the dwarves. Such were rare, but not unheard of, but there was no field to the front and no time to raise one.
The Ellala all pulled and loosed simultaneously, scores of arrows flying in. All of the archers possessed superior accuracy, and most were aiming at the vulnerable areas on their targets, while some aimed for distraction points. Jackie knocked down many of the arrows aimed at her head, but missed the two that came in and struck. One sliced through her cheek, the other transfixed her neck. Izabella was sheltering behind her shield and protected, until she turned in shock to her companion, standing there with blood spurting around the arrow through her neck. She lowered her shield as she reached out to her friend, only to catch an arrow through the side of her face, transfixing both cheeks through her mouth. Gregor brought the broad head of his hammer up to block his face, saving him from serious damage, only taking one arrow through a hand.
Refuge: Book 5: Angels & Demons Page 28