Sixth Realm Part 2: A litRPG Fantasy series (The Ten Realms Book 7)

by Michael Chatfield

  “Elder, why do I feel like they are stronger than our own sect?”

  “It seems like that might be true. We are just a medium power in the Third Realm.”

  “Didn’t you say that no powerful forces would want to be involved and that we should only bring a small force so when the real battle comes, we can increase our rewards?”

  “Silence! Do you think that I could predict such a power would appear?”

  “So, Branch Head Storgaard. What is your plan?”

  39

  A Small Force?

  “Lieutenant Colonel, everyone is ready,” an Alvan soldier in adventurer’s gear said.

  “Good. How are things on the side of the sects?”

  “They are waiting to see how things turn out. The Grey Peak sect should be in the fight. We might need to push them further if we want their help to take the city,” Mister Yi said.

  Zukal turned from the tower he had claimed as his command post and looked out across the snowy mountains. “Whether they join us or not is up to them. With our force, if we are not able to take the city, then I will resign in dishonor.”

  “You’re that confident?”

  “Mister Yi, I would leave nothing to chance.” Zukal’s face spread into a frigid sneer. “And Colonel Domonos is coming down with a full combat company as reserve. With all we know about Meokar, they have few secrets that they can keep. We have built counters for most of their main attacks and to bypass their defenses.”

  Mister Yi fell silent.

  “The Dragon Battalion and the Adventurer’s Guild have not been able to show their true strength before. We will hold back our firearms, but everything else is allowed.”

  Mister Yi nodded, not as confident as Zukal.

  They had been training for so long that people had forgotten how less than a hundred Alvan soldiers were able to hold back and bleed an army of thousands.

  In the forests in the Grey Peak sect’s territory, one could hear the sounds of marching and metal as the armored members of the Willful Institute marched to the heart of the Grey Peak sect’s territory.

  Grand Elder Mendes looked up from his mount. The low-lying fog curled around the Grey Peak sect’s branch city.

  It was set in a mountain range. The tallest mountain had been turned into their city. Flat areas had been turned into vast gardens to cultivate rare ingredients. Walls ringed the outside of these plateaus. The mountain sprouted out of the middle of a plateau and stretched to meet other mountains that led down into valleys that fell under the Grey Peak sect’s control.

  “Our lead elements have made it out of the forest. Half of the force is heading to the southern entrance. We should reach the eastern entrance in less than an hour,” Elder Tsi said beside Mendes.

  “That will only leave the northern entrance into the plains open. The fools built into a mountain. With such a design, it saves building time, but their formations will require much more power. Once we break through their gates, we will flood through their gardens, spiraling up to the city at the peak. With the plateau two-thirds up the mountain, our ascent will be hard but not impossible.”

  “Do you think they will last longer than our initial attack, Grand Elder?”

  Mendes tightened his grip on his reins and kicked his mount forward. “I hope they do. That way we can make a true display of our power, so that no one else challenges us for several decades. With a new sect under our control, we can wipe away our previous losses.”

  “Should I mention this to the vanguard units? If they accidentally don’t listen to orders or can’t let the dishonorable Grey Peak sect branch survive?” Elder Tsi lowered his voice, his eyes checking to make sure no one was listening to their conversation.

  “It is hard to contain the younger generation. They are prone to bouts of anger that clouds their judgment and leads to mistakes.”

  The two elders looked at each other.

  “Anyway, I must check with the vanguard and their progress, Grand Elder.”

  “Elder.”

  They separated, and Mendes glanced over to the trails that led to the plateau.

  A sudden flash went off, and the mounts shifted uneasily.

  Magical traps. Seeing the attacks light up, he raised his voice. “Push the Grey Peak villagers out in front.”

  Storgaard stood there, a statue in the snow and wind as she watched the two black snakes reaching toward her branch city. Her face was as cold as the rock around her.

  Behind her stood her command team, strong men and women with war paint on their faces and braided beards and hair.

  Magical traps went off in the entrances to the plateau.

  There was an unwritten rule in the realms. If one sect took over the city, then all the connected region fell under their control. It was a rule that had been passed down by all the associations. It saved the normal people and stopped wars from spreading too far. They didn’t have the time to draw in more people. Holding up in the castle was the best move as they could pit their defenses against their unsupported attackers.

  The Willful Institute stopped their advance.

  “Looks like a few spells have scared them,” one of the women behind her said.

  Storgaard narrowed her eyes. The Viewing spell allowed her to zoom in on the advancing army. “Fucking savages,” she hissed through gritted teeth as her knuckles popped from holding them so tight.

  “Vicious.” Gudriksson stood beside her as they watched the Willful Institute driving forward shivering bodies.

  “Calculating, using our villagers and farmers as a shield to activate our traps.” Storgaard’s eyes were dull, reflecting the cold, merciless light of the blind magical traps that activated as the shivering serfs were shoved ahead of the Willful Institute’s soldiers.

  “Even if they fail, we will have issues with our people. They will be angry that we allowed this to happen. If they win, they will take on the issues. With showing their merciless side, the voices will be quiet, scared of being the next victim. It can also serve as a warning to the other sects. Even if they lose, they will gut our sect’s serf population,” Gudriksson evaluated coldly.

  “Is there any—”

  Gudriksson shook his head. “Unless we want to use our trump cards, there is nothing we can do.”

  Storgaard unclenched her jaw and rested her hand on her sword, returning to the unfeeling Valkyrie. “Tell the Adventurer’s Guild if we can beat back the Willful Institute, then our Bear Legion will support their attack on Meokar, and we will give them all the support we can. I will give them an oath if they desire it.”

  “What about the higher-ups?” Gudriksson asked.

  “To pull over an ally like the Adventurer’s Guild—do you think that they’ll deny this?”

  “Permission to join the vanguard?”

  Storgaard stared at Gudriksson. “They are just serfs.”

  “Yes, but they’re our serfs. And the Willful Institute is stepping all over our honor.”

  Storgaard turned her head back toward the battle. “If you don’t bring me back at least two elders’ heads or that worm Mendes’s corpse, I’ll have you and the Bear Legion clearing forest for three months!”

  “My axe is meant to bite into armor and bone, not trees.” Gudriksson’s deep voice rolled over the stony ground.

  “Show me.”

  Those two words ignited the fighting spirit in the Grey Peak sect fighters.

  Domonos finished talking to Blaze and passed command of Vuzgal to one of his junior lieutenant colonels.

  “Are you sure a combat company will be enough?” Erik asked.

  “If it isn’t, then I didn’t train them well enough,” Domonos said.

  Rugrat reached out a hand.

  Domonos took it and was pulled into a bear hug.

  “Bring them back safe.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Erik reached out his hand and hugged Domonos. “Tear them apart, but make sure the rage doesn’t cloud your judgment.”

  �
�I serve the army first, my soldiers second, and myself last.”

  Erik patted him on the shoulder, his expression worth more than a hundred words.

  Domonos felt as if he had taken in an extra breath but couldn’t breathe anymore or let it back out.

  Gong Jin cleared his throat.

  “I’ll let you get back to it. When I see you next, Meokar will be under new management,” Domonos promised. He snapped off a salute.

  Erik and Rugrat pulled themselves up and saluted back at Domonos.

  He about-faced and marched out of the command center. His guards fell in around him, guiding him through the Battle Arena and toward their mounts.

  Domonos pulled out a map of the situation reported by Lieutenant Colonel Zukal.

  The group marched through the halls, and people moved out of the way.

  There was a startled yell as they turned a corner and nearly ran over a young woman who was walking by.

  “Sorry, miss,” one of the soldiers said.

  Domonos glanced up. His eyes locked with Mistress Mercy’s. He clenched his jaw, and hot rage ran through his body.

  “Colonel Silaz, what a surprise.”

  “I am sorry, Mistress Mercy. I have things to do.” Domonos said civilly, stopping himself from spitting the words out. He felt that darkness was always a half-step away from calling to him. “I hope we can meet up later.”

  He shot a look to his guards, and they kept moving.

  Next time, I will take your head from your neck. In his mind, the image of her whipping him and enjoying it overlaid the pure-looking woman before him. He heard the screams of others who had drawn her ire and felt the burning pain on his back and limbs. He unconsciously shifted his armor, feeling as if his back was itchy where the old, healed wounds had once been.

  Domonos looked at the map and reviewed the information from Zukal again.

  The Willful Institute entered the plateaus, spreading out and laying out their weapons of war.

  “I heard they sent a messenger to the branch head,” Mister Yi said to Jasper.

  “What was the result?”

  “It looks like they were willing to turn back if the Grey Peak sect agreed to pay back the resources they took, plus interest. Storgaard didn’t take too kindly to their demands.”

  “What if it was not the Grey Peak sect but another sect that got the message?”

  “Depends. Though in this area, most of them would have given in. They don’t want a war; they want to hold on to their lands, send up resources to the Fourth Realm, and get support in the Third. This is the start of negotiations. If they could return the supplies or a little less than what they took, the other sects would give in.”

  “Without your information, we might have allied with one of the other sects. Feel bad that we dragged them into this.”

  “They will get a new city out of it, and we can see what they’re made of. You said the sects in the higher realm want to cooperate with us as well now.”

  “Still.”

  “Yes, we are tricking them in one way, but are we not taking on the risks with them?”

  Jasper sighed. When did it all become so complicated?

  The totem flashed with light, and a group of adventurers walked out. Their marching fell in step. They wore distinct armor but still looked like a single entity.

  The groups marched past Jasper and Mister Yi. Their officers nodded to them as they passed.

  With the third group, Domonos came out. He walked over to Jasper and Mister Yi.

  “Good to see you, Domonos. Zukal gave me this for you.” Jasper held out an information book.

  Domonos opened it; the pages flipped and burnt out as light drifted through his eyes. “Looks like he has everything in hand. Shall we head to the wall? I want to see it myself.”

  Jasper’s guards led the way.

  Domonos stood at the top of the wall. Guards and people were in the different towers and heating huts, ready to rush up to the wall at a moment’s notice.

  The walls were good and thick, though they were all over the place, creating their own small bastions on the mountain instead of one continuous wall around the area.

  “With the height advantage, our range is going to increase, but that cross-wind doesn’t make me happy. What do we have for ranged weapons?”

  “Trebuchets, catapults, javelin throwers, spell scrolls, formation spellcaster platforms—Ten Realms standard, not our own brand—and some mana cannons. The Grey Peak sect has to have some powerful tools they’re holding on to,” Jasper said.

  “Have the mages work with the catapult and trebuchet teams. Spell up the ammunition. They’re going to hit like a mother with our extra height. Explosive Shot with remote ignition will turn one stone ball into raining shrapnel. Is the Willful Institute still using the lightning-attenuating mana barriers?”

  “Current information points to it,” Mister Yi replied.

  “Good. We have plenty of Fire-based spell scrolls. With it being a Metal element array, the Fire element suppresses it and does greater damage.” Domonos pulled out his map. It automatically updated through formations in the command center that Zukal was operating.

  He checked the unit type deployment again. “Everything looks like it is in place. We will need to draw in the Willful Institute. During the attack, we will slowly leach fighters to gather at the northern passes. When we break the Institute’s lines and they start to pull back, we’ll rush their lines, creating disorder. Mister Yi, will you be able to get us the elder targets?”

  “Once they attack us, I will be able to find where the different elders are. I have researched them all; I would be able to do it with a telescope.”

  “Good.” Domonos looked at the snow-slush on the walls. “Send out orders to clear the walls and to lay down powder and make sure the water doesn’t turn to ice. One misplaced foot, and people are going to slip and fall.”

  An aide braced and then started to transmit the information via his sound transmission device.

  “Are the medic stations set up?”

  “Yes, and we are serving warm Apprentice-level food to give the soldiers minor boosts and calm their nerves.”

  “Good. We don’t know how long the battle will be or how long it will be before we can get another warm meal.” Domonos looked at the walls, seeing the different banners from the other sects. “How are they?”

  “I would only rely on the Grey Peak sect until we have the enemy on the run,” Mister Yi said.

  Domonos nodded. I never put much faith in them.

  He rested his hands on the rocks, feeling them cooling his hands. He stared at the dark snake spreading out over the plateau, setting up their long-range weapons. They wouldn’t put out tents or supplies for more than a short battle. It seemed they were confident about winning. If it were just the Grey Peak sect and the other sects’ token forces, they might be able to take the city. Their confidence came from their reinforcements.

  “Information leaks?”

  “A few people have tried, but we have restrictive formations, and the Grey Peak sect is not letting anyone leave.”

  “And those who sent messages?”

  “They were dealt with,” Niemm said, walking up to the group. “Just handled another leak. Good to see you, Domonos.”

  “Niemm.” Domonos tilted his head to Niemm, who stretched out his hand.

  “You feel it yet?”

  “Feel what?”

  “The thrill?”

  “My gut’s turning over right now. Don’t have time for the thrill.”

  “Wait. When it starts, no one will feel more alive than when their life is on the line,” Niemm said as they released each other’s hands.

  “How are things in Meokar?”

  “Everything went to plan. The agents and teams went radio silent a few hours ago to avoid detection. We won’t know what’s happening until we reach the city.”

  “So many pieces moving at once,” Jasper said.

  “Today we st
art putting them to use.” Domonos felt a power staring at the men and women on the wall.

  Meokar will fall, slow and steady. Who will die to do so?

  A cold hand reached into his body and clamped onto his organs. This was what he had trained for. There were too many people relying on him. He couldn’t fuck up.

  He pulled out his map, reviewing it once again, and pulled out his sound transmission device to check in with Lieutenant Colonel Zukal.

  He hadn’t understood when Erik and Rugrat had said that the worst thing about commanding was being left with your thoughts. I hate this waiting shit.

  Elder Xiao stared at the messenger as a reply came back from the Grey Peak sect.

  The messenger coughed and cleared their throat, looking angry. “They disagree with the terms set forward.”

  “Is there any more?” Elder Xiao asked.

  “They called us dishonorable dogs, using weak excuses to try to bully them. They were not scared of flea-covered dogs before, and they are not now. They suggest that they will chase us back to Meokar and out of the region.”

  Elder Xiao was calm while others in the tent pressed their lips together, swallowing their words.

  “Who the real dogs are is still to be seen. The Grey Peak sect is as dull as the bears they ride on. Ready our people. In an hour, we will give them a response with our blades! Whoever kills a member of the Grey Peak sect or the Adventurer’s Guild will get an extra five contribution points!”

  The elders and aides let out excited yells.

  Let’s see how many of you survive with a bounty of five contribution points on your heads.

  “Here they come,” Gudriksson said as extra mana barriers flared to life over the Willful Institute’s army.

  The lead forces marched forward. A screen for the ranged siege weapons rolled behind them.

  “What do you think of the proposed battle plan?” Storgaard wore her complete armor, checking the strap holding the shield to her arm.

  “Playing the pig to eat the tiger? It will weaken our defenses, and we will need to lose some bastions, though if we can draw out the Institute and are really able to pin them in with the Adventurer’s Guild, we can tear out their throat, leaving only dregs to flee.”