Underdog Mage Chronicles
Book 3
By R. D. Bernstein
Books by R. D. Bernstein
Underdog Mage Chronicles:
1. The Crippled
2. The Captive
3. The War
4. The Voyage https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07FRCK7SR
Fate Chronicles:
1. The Eternal War
2. Children of Fate
3. The Drakaran
4. Deadly Diplomacy
5. Mystery at Crescent Islands
Chapter 1
The blood red Drakaran sun hammered the white sands of the vast desert. Tiny, scaled lizards scurried away as a shimmering blue portal appeared out of thin air, tearing and distorting the air around it until it spread out to its full size.
The first humans stepped through with weapons drawn. Hardened warriors, they looked around, ready to fight as more and more troops flowed through. First came the hundreds of knights, then mages, and lastly the supply wagons, until the entire army made up of six kingdoms were transported from their world to the Drakaran’s.
The war had begun, but there were no enemies in sight. There was only the endless sea of sand in all directions, as far as they could see.
“Lance Gundar!” General Kirn bellowed in his usual commanding voice. He took his helmet off and squinted from the bright sun. “Where is he?”
Lance heard his name and pushed through several rows of troops to stand before the General.
“Where the hell are we?” General Kirn asked. “Where did you send us?”
General Kirn stood up to his full height of six foot seven inches, his wide frame and height requiring custom armor. He towered over Lance, the bright sun causing his shadow to completely cover Lance.
Lance took a moment to look around. “I don’t know,” Lance admitted. The moment he said it, he wished he had taken more time to think about it.
“You don’t know?” General Kirn’s tone sounded as if he were going to strangle Lance.
“I mean… judging by the red sun we definitely made it to the Drakaran’s world,” Lance explained. “I just don’t know where exactly.”
“I thought we were going to appear in their capital city,” General Kirn stated in disappointment.
“I thought so too,” Lance replied. “But no one has ever used a spell like this on such a large scale and such a far distance. We’re lucky we made it here at all.”
General Kirn sighed. “I don’t suppose you have any idea which direction to go in?”
Lance shook his head.
“Get back in line then,” Kirn ordered. Then he turned to a knight waiting on foot in the front row.
“Fetch me a spyglass,” General Kirn ordered.
The man hurried to the supply wagons and returned in short order considering how many bags he had to sift through.
General Kirn peered through the eyepiece and began to pan across the horizon. At first he could only see sand and sky and a hazy horizon where the two met. Then a tiny tower appeared to the west. General Kirn put the spyglass away.
“We head west,” General Kirn announced. “Riders go slow so others can keep pace. Weapons ready. Heads on a swivel. Let’s go greet the Drakaran.”
* * *
Commander Voltross slammed his obsidian armored fist into the wall, chunks of stone flying in all directions. Morgana should have had the portal open by now, or at the very least reported back.
Time and time again the weak humans somehow managed to thwart their attempts at opening the portal.
Commander Voltross turned at the sound of a door opening to see council member Sareth standing there, a scowl on his face, his skinny arms crossed under the customary black and red robes of the council.
“Council member Sareth,” Voltross said with a bow. “I did not expect a visit from you.”
“Commander,” Sareth said. “The council is growing impatient. We expect results, yet we have none. Do we have the wrong person for this job?”
“The humans have proved to be more resilient than we expected.”
Sareth’s red eyes glanced at the rubble lying on the floor. “You don’t seem to be in control. We don’t want excuses.”
“It will get done,” Commander Voltross insisted.
“Will it?” Council member Sareth asked. “Tell me, Commander, why then is there a massive human army on our lands, marching across the desert?”
“What? That’s impossible!”
“You doubt my words?” Sareth asked.
“No, of course not. But humans can’t…”
“Take care of this problem, Commander,” Sareth interrupted. “Give me another excuse and I’ll take your head.”
In his head, Voltross knew he could easily kill Sareth, but it would only get himself killed in the long run. Instead, Commander Voltross swallowed his pride and nodded.
“Good,” Sareth said. “Send your army and clean up this mess. Then open the damn portal!”
* * *
“Are you sure this was the right move?” Charlotte whispered as she quickened her pace to keep up with the rest of the troops.
“No,” Lance admitted. “But my father believed it was. I didn’t know him well, but everything he told me so far about the prophecy has come true. That’s a good sign, I suppose.”
“Maybe…” Charlotte replied.
Lance knew she was worried. He was too. But he had to stay strong and confident. Truth be told, he was having what appeared to be post-traumatic stress just from being here. It reminded him of his time as a captive in the Drakaran arenas.
The army made their way west, heading toward what they could now visibly see was a massive tower made of black stone. Around the base of the tower were several dozen houses.
“So far no sign of movement or alarm,” Lance overheard General Kirn say. “Looks like a small town around it.”
General Kirn gave an order to a Lieutenant who ran down the line of troops relaying the message.
After a few moments, around fifty knights and twenty mages stepped forward from the main group.
“Lance!” General Kirn yelled. “You’ll be going as well. They may need your expertise from being here before. If all clear, the rest will join you.”
Lance gave Charlotte a look before he hopped onto a free horse and joined the rest in a gallop toward the town. Lance stared ahead as he rode, trying to discern what type of Drakaran were here, if any. So far, he didn’t spot any movement of any kind.
Suddenly a loud screeching sound came from above. The group looked up to see what looked like a raven, only ten times the size of ones back home. He could make out its beady, black eyes as it stared at them hungrily, flapping its wings to propel itself over the group and then turned toward the town ahead. It moved fast, a much faster pace than the horses. Lanced watched as it landed on the top of the dark tower and disappear from view.
Ravens back home were messengers. This was a bad sign. Someone knew they were coming.
Chapter 2
The wind suddenly picked up and with it the white sands of the desert swirled upward. It whirled around the army, stinging their eyes and making it difficult to see further than a few feet.
“Stay close!” The Lieutenant ordered. Lance could hear the horses shuffling and neighing as they looked around in confusion.
Then it stopped as quickly as it began. A lone figure appeared wearing a dark blue robe, his face hidden beneath the shadow the hood cast.
“You are not from here,” the man noted. “You are not allowed further. This is sacred ground.”
“Tell us which way is the city and the council,” the Lieutenant demanded. “If you tell us the truth, we
will let you live. Do otherwise and we’ll ride back here and stick your head on a pike.”
“Resorting to threats is a sign of weakness,” the Drakaran stated. “That being said, we have no wish for you to defile our sacred ground. The capital city you seek is to the north. It is a far journey through desert, then forest, and lastly a vast tunnel system under a mountain. I told you what you asked, now leave us be.” The Drakaran turned around and headed back toward the tower.
“Lance, what do you make of all of this,” the Lieutenant asked.
“The Drakaran religion seems to play a large part in their culture from what I know,” Lance replied. “I don’t think he was lying. What I would be worried about is for him to send a message with that raven we saw earlier. We would lose the element of surprise we desperately need against them.”
The Lieutenant took a moment to think about Lance’s words and then he gave the order to kill everyone and every creature in sight. Lance swallowed hard at the thought that his words led to the death of innocent men and women, even if they were Drakaran. Not all of them deserved to die. How did killing them make humans any better than Drakaran?
* * *
A full hour went by before the last scream filled the air. They lost two knights while putting down the giant raven, but not a creature nor Drakaran escaped. Twenty three dead Drakaran bodies were dragged out and piled in the center of town. Lance took solace in that none of them were children.
“We didn’t have to kill them…” Lance said to a knight standing next to him.
“This is war,” the knight replied. “There will be plenty of deaths to come.” He caught Lance’s expression and added, “Don’t feel bad for them. The Drakaran would have done the same to us. They are nothing but evil demons.”
The air smelled like death. The bodies of the Drakaran bled black blood which began to turn all the sand around them a sickening dark color.
The man army had just joined them when several loud horns sounded in the distance.
Lance and the others looked up to see hundreds of massive wolves charging across the desert. On top of the savage wolves sat a rider each with either a sword or axe.
“Here we go people! Now the real fight begins!” General Kirn yelled. “You know the drill. Knights up front, mages in the back.”
Everyone hustled to get into position as the wolves continued to bear down on them, spittle dripping from hungry fangs.
“Hold!” The Lieutenant called out as the wolves came closer. “Hold!” He yelled again.
Lance could feel the nervousness around him. These were creatures larger than anything they had back home, and there were hundreds of them. The dust cloud they left in their wake was an impressive wall of sand rising into the air like a tsunami.
“Now!” The Lieutenant ordered.
All mages, including Lance, did what they had planned in preparations. All of them combined forces to form a long and dangerously hot wall of fire directly in front of the incoming wolves.
Somehow, only about a fourth of the wolves caught on fire and crumpled to the ground. The rest escaped with minor burns.
There had to be some sort of magic at play to protect them. Sure enough, Lance spotted a mystic at the back, riding slower than the rest of the Drakaran. The mystic gripped a long black staff with a skull transplanted firmly on top.
Lance knew that leaving the powerful mystic alive could turn the tide of the battle. He had to kill him.
Before he could take any action, the first of the wolves reached the front lines. They barreled into the men, their size and momentum carrying through the first and second line of knights.
Some wolves leapt completely over the knights and landed in the middle of the mages. Because of the close quarters and proximity of so many allies around them, the mages resorted to using magical shields, hoping that eventually a knight would kill the wolves.
Lance worried only slightly about Charlotte. He knew she was an extremely capable mage and if there was anything she really excelled at it was making a good energy shield. She would be safe for the time being.
Lance raised a shield to block a swing from a sword and sent the Drakaran flying with a gust of wind. Wading his way through the thick of battle, Lance spotted General Kirn slicing through the Drakaran with a giant broadsword. There were no longer orderly ranks of knights. Fighting was everywhere. Screams, blood and magic filled the battlefield in a cacophony of chaos.
Lance found a rider less horse and jumped on, kicking its sides to spur it forward. He found a path between the fighting and made his way toward the Drakaran mystic. He pushed aside thoughts of doubt about this decision. It was too late to back out now.
The mystic raised his staff and several knights ignited on fire, burning straight through their armor, the metal and flesh melting into the sand.
Lance pushed his horse faster. The longer he took, the more men the mystic would kill.
A snarling wolf leaped at him and he brushed it aside with a powerful electric shock.
While riding, Lance took out a tube of silver flakes and swallowed several. It wasn’t easy while on a galloping horse. He would need the metal energy. The Drakaran mystic seemed exceptionally strong to be able to cast such powerful spells at a great distance.
* * *
Commander Voltross spread the map across the command table. He placed a stone in each corner to hold it down and then leaned over it, bracing his powerful arms on the table.
Two mystics stood around the table, waiting silently for their commander to say the first word.
“How many troops did we send?” Voltross asked.
“We sent the closest battalion we had,” one of the mystics replied. “Two hundred wolves and riders from fort Vardis.”
“Who was sent in charge after Leria passed away?” Voltross asked.
“Sertia,” the mystic answered.
“He is powerful, but one battalion will fail,” Voltross remarked. “It will be a shame to lose him.”
“It was all we had in the area,” the mystic added.
Commander Voltross let out a growl. His temper flared and so too did his magic. A green light glowed around his clenched fists. The mystics wisely took a step back from the irate Commander.
He calmed himself down with great effort and the green plasma subsided.
Just when the mystics thought their leader was in a good place, he slammed the table with his fist. It groaned in protest.
“This is what we’re going to do!” Voltross bellowed. “You see this mark? This is where we ambush them. This is where we crush their puny human army, and with no defense left, we take their world.”
Chapter 3
Lance dove from his horse as a bolt of black energy zoomed past where he had just been. He rolled to his feet, cringing as he put pressure on his bad leg.
The Drakaran mystic shot black tentacles out, their slimy grip looking for flesh to wrap around and constrict.
Lance raised an energy shield as the tentacles slammed against it, wrapping around the energy shield, searching for a way inside. Lance struggled as the tentacles pressed harder and harder.
As he struggled, Lance looked back at the battle still raging on. Those massive wolves were ferocious, sometimes needing more than one hit from a sword to bring them down. It was too difficult to discern how the battle was going, but Lance did spot Master Porthos casting a shield around several cornered knights, saving them from the circle of wolves snapping at them.
Lance tore his attention back to the fight at hand. The Drakaran mystic shot more tentacles out, the energy shield now almost completely covered in a black mass.
Lance tried to see through, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. He took out more silver flakes and swallowed them. He would need them for what he planned next.
He waited long enough for the familiar feeling of metal to course through his veins. Then he focused on his energy shield, taking it and causing it to explode outward. The tentacles recoiled and then burs
t into flame, giving Lance enough time to send his own attack.
Five sharp spears shot from his hand at incredible speed. The Drakaran mystic waved his hand and the spears stopped in midair.
With a twist of the Drakaran’s wrist, the spears turned around and flew toward Lance. He didn’t have time to think of the irony of the mystic’s move. He got another shield up in time to block four of the spears, but one slipped through and cut his shoulder as it nicked the top of his flesh.
Lance cried out in pain, tossed to the ground by the momentum of the spear. It was a superficial cut, but he was dizzy and disoriented all the same. Maybe it had been a mistake to fight the Drakaran mystic on his own, even if it was buying time for his people. His time in the arena gave him a lot of experience, but it became clear that the mystic was easily just a strong, if not stronger, and had many more years of experience.
“Charge!” General Kirn suddenly bellowed from behind. His armor was covered in blood spatters, his sword blacker with Drakaran blood than steel showing. Behind him, the entire army charged. The battle was over. Lance realized that even though he didn’t defeat the mystic, he distracted him from killing many more men.
The Drakaran mystic held up his hands and went to his knees as the army closed in.
General Kirn slammed his sword into the sand and let out a loud howl.
“A victory for mankind!” The General cheered. He slapped Lance on the back. “You did well, lad.”
The human army tied the mystic’s hands behind his back as everyone let out a triumphant cheer. Lance joined in, but he knew the war was far from over.
* * *
The army spent the night in the Drakaran town. It took hours to bury their dead. They burned the bodies of the Drakaran and their massive wolves. The mystic was taken into the tower where General Kirn and several of the higher-ups interrogated him.
Lance slept on a blanket in the town’s center. An hour later, he sat up as the General stepped outside, wiping his bloody broadsword with a cloth. Walking over to Lance, the General shook his head.
Underdog Mage Chronicles_The War Page 1