Brace For the Wolves

by Nathan Thompson

  As it was, though, there were just over a hundred Ilklings on the premise, twenty Wretches, and ten Mongrels. The pit was over a hundred feet of broiling, tar-like liquid, looking just as disgusting as the one I had destroyed on my first Challenge. I couldn't see anyone thrashing around it this time, and that was especially disturbing given the number of empty cages around it.

  A few of the muscular Mongrels were watching the Pit though, so I had to assume something was happening there.

  They had apparently been relying on the howlers to look out for us, though, because they had posted no real guard that could have warned them of our approach. They were relaxed and distracted, except for the Mongrels watching the Pit and a few more staring off in the direction of the lake.

  We hit them like a hurricane.

  Two giant spinning discs of super-heated wind managed to tear a couple dozen Ilklings in half. Then three Mongrels went down immediately to our stored lightning bolts. Thirty finger-bolts of doom brought down three more Mongrels, giving us a total number of four to fight.

  By the time the call for alarm sounded, we were halfway done with our second volley.

  Weylin began firing wind-enhanced arrows, singing as he shot, blowing through the horned Wretches one at a time. I fired off another Friction Slice in a curving arc, killing another dozen Ilklings. Another pack of the creatures suddenly fell into a patch of Sinking Earth courtesy of Breena. Eadric and Virtus rained javelins on any other monster they could reach.

  The Mongrels bellowed for the surviving Ilklings and Wretches to get organized. I sent one more Friction Slice into the group while Karim fired off a refreshed pack of finger-bolts to kill another Mongrel. Then Virtus, Eadric, and I charged.

  I still didn't have a very good minion-killing weapon, but I settled for my spear. I stabbed, bashed and kicked my way through the little monsters, caving in chests and torsos with every blow. The Wretches were barely a match at all for someone who had undergone their first Rise, and the Ilklings were no trouble at all for a grown adult. For people who had stepped into the second stage of Rising they all were a total joke, and it made me wonder just how potent heroes were on the battlefield.

  I heard a bellow in front of me as one of the remaining Mongrels pushed its way forward. The ape-like monster snarled at me, brandished its giant machete, and rushed forward, holding a pitted shield in front of itself to take my attack. I stepped quickly to the side, marveling at how slowly it was moving, then stabbed into the side of its torso. I pierced padding and scrap armor, and I heard the monster cough, but then it dropped its shield and ripped its way free to attack me with a two-handed, overhanded chop. Since I was using my spear in both hands, I raised to deflect the chop, shuddering as the blade bit into the wooden shaft of the polearm. But I watched its eyes widen when it felt me push it back, and with a smirk I knocked it off balance, freed my spear from its blade and stabbed it in the throat. It gurgled, tried to pull my weapon free, but then my current magic kicked in and it began smoking and spasming. I twisted my weapon out of its throat with a vicious spray of black blood. The Mongrel staggered, but still didn't go down. When it raised its weapon again, I knocked it high, darted to its side, and stabbed it right into the armpit as deep as I could, twisting around once I felt my spear push significantly inside of its torso. It made another strangled, weird cry as I finally overcame its vital guard, and then it collapsed in a heap.

  Realizing I had gotten locked into my own private battle, I whirled around just in time to take a stab on my knee. A short, goat-horned Wretch cackled victoriously as it snuck into my guard to deliver said blow with its short sword. This time, my wards and stoneskin were able to almost completely turn the blow, leaving me with nothing more than a painful gash for my stupid mistake. I still cursed up a storm and willed my vital guard to repair the blow.

  Then I used the same leg to punt the little bastard a dozen feet away.

  We followed up with a score of finger-bolts and arrows, which were able to finish off the minions, and when I looked for the remaining Mongrels I saw Virtus and Eadric each standing over their own kill.

  Aside from myself, no one had taken any damage.

  "Great job," I said, shooting a mournful look at the empty cages. "Let's take a minute or two to recover and then find the best spot to hit the group at the lake."

  But then I saw everyone's heaving chests. "Make that five minutes," I said.

  And I messed up, I said bitterly inside my mind. I had been counting on our Rise-enhanced Stamina pools to get us through the constant fighting. And if we had stuck to only three or four fights today, that might have worked.

  But we hadn't.

  We battled the Detrite, then Tovius' henchmen, then Tovius himself, then two intense battles with one warden each, then a massive battle with the remaining forces of Virtus' old company, and now over a hundred Horde, ten of which could be considered elite troops on par with a slightly Risen individual. We tore our way through them, but that was because we had to. And all of this was the day after everyone had escaped from prison, running from howling monsters, slaughtering Malus members, rescuing our fairy friend (who turned right around and rescued me, admittedly) and battling close to a hundred Horde, if not more.

  With the exception of my semi-immortal hoplite, my troops were wiped, and I should have realized it sooner. But it was too late to do anything about it now.

  The lake was about three miles away, and had its own defensive barrier of mist and other wards. Surrounding that was an unusual group. One significantly smaller than the one we just dismantled. Only a handful of Ilklings and Wretches. Fifteen Mongrels, five of which seemed stronger than average.

  And three strange, large Horde creatures that we haven't encountered yet.

  Avalon could only give me generic information on them until we got visual confirmation. And that would have to wait because this time the Mongrels and other Horde weren't bothering to wait for us to quietly walk over and get in position.

  "Hostiles approaching," Avalon informed me as we ran. "Estimated time of arrival is within three minutes."

  I motioned for everyone to stop and tried to transmit my knowledge through the mind-link. This time it didn't work and Breena just asked why I was squinting so hard.

  "They're coming in less than three minutes," I said as quickly as I could. "Avalon, provide further data."

  The bad news was that we couldn't take them by surprise. They had become aware of our battle by their Pit, either via all the lightning and noise or because of some special link to the Pit.

  The good news was that I had the best darn local surveillance of any military commander, of any age of technology. It took us about a minute to get all of our trap spells set up—sharp stones, fire wards, wind traps, and ready ammunition. The Wretches were shredded apart almost immediately, but most of the Mongrels stumbled through. Then they were blinded by lightning flashes, unbalanced by sinking ground, and knocked back into the traps by gusts of air, all while being shredded with additional magical attacks from Karim and Breena.

  Once again, five mages with time to prepare. I was determined to milk my handful of advantages for all they were worth. To that end Breena had showed us how to reinforce the basic trap spells with a link to our mana pools, letting us charge the spell for longer durations. It had proven effective, judging by the number of Mongrels slowly dropping to the floor.

  But a few moments later, the magic began to run out.

  I had underestimated the time needed to recover our mana. Little by little the storm of magical spells bombarding our enemies began to slack off. Eadric's rock spell was the first to go, and I felt the dwarf's frustration through the mind-link. He shrugged out his shield and hefted his hammer, moving to the front.

  He was also out of statue-bombs.

  Weylin ran out a few moments later. The elf was gritting his teeth and keeping his entire face in a mask of concentration, but the windstorm he was maintaining finally began to waver. As the spell came clo
se to running out he gave up and reached for his bow and arrow, nocking his weapon quickly and pulling it up. But again, I could feel his fatigue through the mind-link.

  Then Karim's ground fire and magic missiles began to fall off. He fought with it for another few moments before falling behind me and hefting his spear. I saw him sway for a moment, and was not relieved.

  I had pushed them all too hard. That was on me.

  My spells started to struggle next. I gave up on maintaining them as well.

  "Go ahead and turn your effects off, Breena, this is gonna get close and personal," I said as I removed my spear and shield.

  I felt her frustration as well.

  "This is a bad thing, Wes," she whispered to me. "We need to take these things down quickly and close combat isn't a good idea with advanced Mongrels."

  "Noted," I replied, walking up next to Virtus and sticking my spear in the ground. The undead hoplite hadn't known any magic to begin with, so he had been remaining in position all this time. And like me, he had his spear in the ground and a handful of javelins at the ready.

  Eadric and Karim moved to cover our flanks. Breena flew over our heads and Weylin kept his bow drawn.

  When the last effect ended, the Mongrels stepped into view.

  Though about half of their number had fallen outright from our attacks, the durability of the five in front had made me rethink my confidence in fighting creatures of that level. Aside from some slightly burnt fur and hide, and a handful of cuts along their bodies, the five elite Mongrels looked almost unbothered.

  The one in front dusted some ash off of its hide breastplate and picked a sharp rock out of its fur. It grinned at me.

  "Traitor-prince..." it began, apparently in the mood to talk before further violence.

  Everyone disobliged it.

  I had saved up just enough mana for one more Friction Slice and I hurled it straight into the little group of elites. But to my surprise, it simply reached behind itself, grabbed a normal Mongrel still struggling to rise to its feet and held the wounded Horde bodily in front of itself. My spinning disc slashed through the first heavy ape-man, probably giving it a quick death, but this was the first time I had tested the spell against larger, fleshier targets. The meat shield lived up to its name, taking most of the impact of the attack as it sliced it in half, and letting only a faint residue brush against the Mongrel captain.

  "You'll have to do better than that, traitor-pri—"

  I fired off five finger bolts into it while Virtus and Weylin filled it full of projectiles. Since he was too busy seizing up from my electrical attack, it was in no position to dodge and so the missiles landed cleanly. It staggered backwards as the arrows and javelins pierced the poor armor along its legs and shoulders.

  A particularly large javelin struck it in the chest, piercing the patchwork mess of leather and iron covering its pectoral muscles. It bellowed in rage as it ripped the weapon out and tossed it to the ground.

  “Kill the traitor-prince!” it bellowed, pointed the largest blade I had seen yet at me.

  The remaining monsters, one normal Mongrel plus the five elites with better armor and weapons, charged at us. The remaining normal Mongrel never made it out of the last of the missile fire and fell clutching its ruined throat. The other five were upon us in seconds.

  The first one swung its massive machete and nearly sliced our spear-line to pieces, but Virtus read its attack and flicked his shaft right around the monster's weapon, knocking it out of the way and piercing the beast right in its unarmored throat. It gurgled and reached to pull the spear point out with its free hand, tilting its body in the process. As it did so, Karim and I did our best to stab into whatever lightly armored part of its body we could reach. Then we had to let go of our polearms and leave it to choke in peace, because the rest of the monsters smashed into us.

  Something large and heavy bashed into my hastily raised shield with enough force to knock me stumbling backwards. I looked up to see the Mongrel we had wounded earlier growling in my face.

  “False teacher,” it snarled, spitting black blood as it spoke. “False warrior. You should have never left the Father's Pits.”

  “Please shut up,” I snarled back. “Every time I talk to you guys I just walk away with a headache, and I'd rather that this one slaughter stay professional.”

  The thing roared and swept its weapon in a horizontal slash at my head. Like everything else out to get me these days, the monster was taller than me, allowing me to duck its enraged swing easily. It had apparently been counting on that, however, because I got another elbow to my face as soon as I drew my new spatha. I worked to keep my feet under me and my shield up, and this time another heavy stab was deflected by my wards and other magical protection.

  I deflected its weapon out of my way and grazed its bicep with my glowing blade, trying not to think of how tired I was. Then my wind-enhanced speed carried me out of the way of another swing, and when it went to grapple again I kicked at its kneecap and knocked it off-balance. It swung his weapon around again, and this time I braced my sword and shield together to take its blow, raising the rim of my shield as I did so to knock its weapon upward. Its giant machete locked on my own weapon as I did that, and for a second we struggled for dominance.

  It was extremely strong. Probably three times the strength of the strongest man back on Earth.

  But right now, with my earth-enhanced Strength I was nearly four times as strong as that.

  And unlike it, I was still a walking taser.

  Lightning magic ran up my sword, traveled down its own, then spat into the nerves of its hands. It shuddered, its muscles almost locking up completely. I brought my own glowing blade off of it and sawed Martus' magic sword into its neck.

  The weapon cut Horde flesh well, shredding its vital guard in moments. I heard what felt like the tenth bloody choke of the day as the monster stubbornly battled sudden death, reaching for the wound with shaky hands. Not taking any chances, I whipped my weapon free and stabbed it deep into the Mongrel captain's open mouth. I twisted and cut until I heard something snap, and then the Horde creature went limp, nearly dragging my weapon out of my hands.

  I yanked it free and turned to look around, trying not to sag in fatigue. Breena was flying circles around the Mongrel we had speared earlier, whittling it down with her fairy darts and icicles. Weylin was dancing around another, fighting with twin blades and striking at the monster's unarmored wrists and knees whenever he could, panting with the same exhaustion I was desperately trying to hide. Eadric had pulverized another monster's knee with his hammer and was now slamming it onto the ground, though he had a new gash on the right side of his face. Virtus was just now pulling his stone blade out from under the chin of his Mongrel while glancing around like I was.

  Karim was staggering backwards, one shaking hand clutching his spatha while the other gripped a red stain darkening the right side of his robes and mail. The Mongrel fighting him was about to bat his weapon away and probably decapitate him with its giant machete.

  Virtus and I acted immediately, rushing the monster from both sides. As the monster drew back its blade, Virtus knocked it off balance with his shield and drew his surprisingly sharp, flint-like blade across the monster’s throat, slicing a large gash into it that the Mongrel’s vital guard struggled to suppress. As he made that attack I brought my longer blade across the back of the enemy’s knee and slashed it open, sawing as I pulled out to intensify the wound.

  As the Mongrel went down on one knee, Virtus recovered, stepped forward and decapitated it with a two-handed swing.

  At that point the fight was over. Breena and Eadric had been able to finish their own battles and dogpile on Weylin's enemy much like we had done with our own foes.

  I swore at myself. We were connected through a freaking mental link, but we had barely used it for the melee. We had to do better or next time someone really would be killed.

  Breena did what she could to repair Karim's side, but he
r magic was refilling slower and so was everyone else's. Our Risen bodies allowed us to go longer without sleep and rest, but once we pushed our mana and stamina pools to a certain point no amount of casual regeneration would get us back into fighting shape. We needed to wrap this mission up, save everyone, and then go back and get some real rest.