《Olimpia》


 Chapter 1

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s wall¡ª


    When we arrived on these shores by some mysterious magic ¡ª wherever we are ¡ª we were not ready. There was no way we could be. For we could not comprehend what challenges we would face or what we would find.


    We should not have survived. It is as simple as that.


    They let us survive, and no one will acknowledge the debt that will come due. The price that will be demanded by the fickle mistress of fate.


    I remember the stormy night the Ninth Legion marched through the forest. A storm washed out the bridge crossing a river we had to pass the night before, and it took longer than expected to repair the bridge.


    The Legatus demanded we make it to town before we could make camp, so we would make it to the town.


    As we marched through an ever-darkening storm-torn night, a massive clap of thunder tore across the sky, shaking the ground and blinding everyone with its brilliance, and searing our skin with heat.


    When we opened our eyes after the blinding flash, a clear blue sky and a noonday sun replaced the stormy night.


    It was easy to conclude we were no longer in Britannia.


    No longer in the Roman Republic.


    **********


    In the distance, I could faintly hear dried leaves cracking and shifting.


    They were getting sloppy, as we had been tracking it for More than an hour, and they knew it.


    Desperation can do that to a person.


    Or a beastkin.


    It was all the same.


    No matter what the higher-ups said to the populace, I knew better. All the scouts did. Most of the legion grunts did too.


    Oh, the beastkin were bestial. Both in their appearance and actions, no one on Olimpia would deny that.


    It was just that they were not the purely savage beasts driven by their own instincts that everyone said they were.


    Whenever I get close enough, I can feel their depth of emotion.


    Anyone with a decent telepathic perception could tell you the same if they were honest.


    Sure, their emotions were sharper. And their language was mainly grunts, barks, and growls, but you could feel the communication.


    My eyes flicked to the side, catching Markus''s eyes as I nodded in the direction of the sound.


    Slowly nodding, he closed his eyes for a moment, then I felt a pulse of information roll off him and slide through me.


    I skimmed the information contained within the pulse to ensure we were on the same page, then threw my will behind the package signaling my agreement and helping to send the message out to the rest of the squad through our Union, fragile as it currently was. We''re stretching it too far, I thought, frowning at how much willpower it took to send the message.


    The whole process only took a fraction of a second, and my foot had yet to touch the ground from the moment I first heard the sound.


    Like specters in the middle of the darkest nights, we passed behind trees and bushes while slipping along the shadows cast by the sun.


    We wore the same dark green cloth cloaks and leather cuirass, concealing the leather straps crossing our chests and waists. On our backs was a quiver of arrows, our belts holding a short sword, knife, and pouches filled with various useful items.


    Dropping into a crouch and freezing, my eyes slowly moved over the surrounding foliage. I tensed my arms as I pulled back on the string of my bow slightly.


    I saw nothing, but that meant little. Beastkin could hide behind a tuft of grass or a small, thumb-thick sapling and remain hidden. They were sneaky bastards.


    Gathering some mental energy, I released it in a pulse, looking for the knots of packed emotion that signified a mind.


    Animals were simple creatures. Their wants were base things like hunger, sleep, fear, pleasure, and boredom.


    Their thoughts were one-dimensional.


    Sure, you can run across smarter animals, but it would be like looking at a painting with a splash of color compared to a painting in black and white. Different, but not really.


    No matter the age, a sentient being was like looking at a mental kaleidoscope of colors signifying their thoughts and emotions, adding layer after layer of depth.


    A beastkin''s mind didn''t have the level of depth as an Olimpian''s, but it had far more than an animal''s mind.


    As my pulse rolled outwards, it pinged off a rabbit searching for food, A few lizards bathing in the sun for warmth, and some birds starting to get concerned in a tree off to my left as they chirped to the sky.


    Then I felt the mind. If it was anyone else on the squad, they would have missed it, and even the little I felt was¡­ off. It pricked at the back of my mind.


    While it was impossible to completely hide one''s mind, with enough training ¡ª or pure instinct born from a predator ¡ª creatures could lessen their imprint on the world. Making it appear flat and hollow, blending into the surroundings.


    Remaining in my half-crouch, I raised my bow aiming it as I pulled back on the string, bringing it to my ear before releasing it.


    At the same time, I gathered my will, reached out to Markus''s mind, and sent him an impression of what I was aiming at.


    He did not hesitate. We had worked together long enough that he trusted my instincts absolutely.


    I had proven myself more than enough for that, not that the other scout teams would say as much.


    Nearly as one, our arrows shot out, streaking through the air and disappearing into a bush.


    The thunk of the arrow hitting flesh was followed by a soft gurgle of pain.


    Drawing another arrow and placing it onto my string, I continued to look around. I released another pulse, searching for anything I might have missed.


    Assuming one was out of danger got one killed, and I intended to die of old age. Or a couple centuries at the earliest.


    Long seconds passed as I continued to search our surroundings, unmoving. I could feel Markus releasing his own pulses, searching with his mind, but if he found something I didn''t, we were already in trouble.


    After I was sure nothing was around, I walked forward to where we shot, Markus following a few steps behind.


    Every step I took weighed on my mind and body as the mental focus and the controlled, smooth movements it took to move silently through a forest added up. I was tired and just wanted this day to be over.


    Anyone that had walked through an old-growth forest knew it could be challenging. Deciding to take the wrong path leads to constantly fighting against brush and tree limbs while getting scratched. At a minimum, it was an annoying hassle. At worst, you were blazing a path for anyone to follow.


    One needed to read the forest and move with its flow to make good time.


    And regardless of the type of forest ¡ª though some types make it more challenging than others ¡ª moving through a forest without making any sound is tricky.


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    It takes practice, careful movements, complete control of one''s body, and time. Mostly time.


    Why does a slug not make any noise? Cause it never moves fast enough to rustle something. My father''s voice said in my head.


    Rushing equals sound.


    Sound equals death.


    It was a simple equation I lived my life by.


    I was moving through the forest at what could be considered a better-than-average walking down any city street without making any noise at all.


    Which was a testament to my skill.


    I was testing the ground for my next step with a strand of telekinesis. Anything that might brush against my body ¡ª that I could not easily avoid ¡ª was being nudged to the side by my mind.


    And any slight sound I made when I lowered my foot to the ground, I was dampening with another strand shaped into a cone that encased my foot and ankle, muffling the sound into what amounted to two leaves brushing together.


    I didn''t have the raw power to do anything serious for long, but no one I knew could match my control.


    Stopping at the bush, I brushed the branches to the side, revealing a lumpy, worn black cloak lying on the ground with two arrows sticking out of it, one in its chest and one in its throat area. My eyes locked onto a clawed hand flopped to the side of the body.


    Definitely a beastkin, I thought, quieting the small concern I had killed an Olimpian.


    Pausing for a moment, I glanced around the forest once more before throwing a curious look at Markus.


    As his voice entered my mind, I felt a slight mental pressure. "I got you covered, Green. Retrieve the arrows, search the body, then let''s move."


    "Understood," I responded before reaching down and grabbing the shaft of my arrow.


    It only took me a moment to wrap a tendril of mental energy around and down the shaft to the arrowhead, fully encasing it. I enlarged the tendril pushing back the flesh and cartilage before I pulled the arrow right out.


    If the tips can''t catch on anything, how is retrieving an arrow hard?


    A second later, I retrieved the other arrow from the beastkin''s chest, tossing it over my shoulder to Markus.


    Before the arrow left my hand, I felt a strand of force wrap around it and pull it toward Markus''s.


    Moving the cloak to the side, I patted down the beastkin''s body.


    Blinking in surprise, I looked at the corpse. I didn''t even need to pat the body down to see if something was different. The beastkin was wearing the expected gear¡­ of a legion scout. Not something they scavenged from the legion, either. The quality is¡­ decent, too.


    A cloak, quiver and bow, a knife, and a few pouches on the creature''s belt containing food and flint, and finally, what I was looking for.


    "Ancestor preserve us¡­" I sighed to myself, standing up and looking around.


    "Is he a scout? Or an outcast?" Asked Markus, his mental voice already telling me he knew how I would answer.


    "Yeah, he''s a clan scout."


    "What clan?"


    "No idea, it''s definitely some kind of canine, but I have never seen the clan markings before." bending down, I grabbed the beastkin''s knife cutting off a patch tied to the creature''s belt with a few quick motions.


    Tossing it to Markus, I said, "Wolf''s paw with a crescent moon behind it, never seen the like before. And his gear is strangely good."


    "So, we either have an up-and-coming clan or an old one. Either way, things are about to get interesting." He transmitted before shrugging indifferently. "And we have seen beastkin using tools before."


    I nodded in agreement at the first part, "Yeah, but this feels¡­ different to me," I said, my voice uncertain. Shrugging, I turned and started moving away. We needed to get away from the body and had better things to do than have a pointless conversation.


    Before I could take a step, the Union our squad was in broke. The distance had finally put too much of a strain on the links. It had lasted longer than I thought it would.


    Taking a moment to process the change, I continued stalking forward. We had expected the network to collapse soon and had already all but cut ourselves off from it.


    Markus spent another second processing the backlash ¡ª if there was any ¡ª and looking at the patch before he moved to join me.


    Beastkin hardly ever travel alone, especially the canine type.


    You could bet your last copper that where there was one of these bastards, there would be more.


    The spilled blood ¡ª along with whatever bond the beastkin seem to have with their clan ¡ª will attract them to the body like moths to a flame. You could never kill one and not have the rest of the warband stay unaware for long.


    I had seen the bastards separated by miles across a valley, and when one of the beastkin on the edges was killed, within minutes, they had all turned and headed directly to the body.


    We needed to get away from the body but could not return to camp.


    There was a job to do, a warband to find.


    We were sent out here to find out what was stirring up the forest. Animals have been wandering out of the Northern Woods and causing havoc on the livestock and farming villages in the Cradle for the last few weeks.


    There were only a few reasons why there could be such a migration. And well¡­ they all involved the beastkin in some way.


    So¡­ not a surprise we found a scout.


    What we needed to know was how big of a warband we were talking about.


    Once we had traveled up most of the northern slope of a nearby hillside, Markus stood still, his eyes clouding in concentration.


    My skin prickled as the pulse of mental energy he was charging up was released. A faint pang of jealousy passed through me as I felt the power of the casting.


    The casting didn''t look like it had drained him at all. For me, forming such a casting would take up a significant chunk of my mental energy reserves.


    Really pushing myself, I could lift up a decent-sized tree and throw it about the same distance as Markus could throw a fist-sized rock unenhanced. I would pass out a moment afterward, but I do it. I knew that for a fact.


    Markus could do the same for half an hour or more.


    My level of skill and finesse was unparalleled by most, but nearly everyone surpassed me in raw power. I had long ago accepted that my strength didn''t overcome their weaknesses.


    Anything that would take all of my skill and focus, backed by my willpower, to perform would take anyone with real power half a thought as they flicked their wrist.


    Markus caught up with me within a few seconds as I kept moving up the hill while he cast and processed the pulse.


    Glancing at him, I saw his eyes flick around to different spots as we felt an echo of his message bounce back. The other scout groups moving through the forest had heard and acknowledged the message.


    Stopping, Markus turned to look at me with sober eyes, "We need an earth pulse."


    Though he was my commander, I knew it wasn''t a command. What he was asking would be the same as asking for the death of anyone else. Even for me, it was only likely that I would live.


    But he was right. Lives were on the line, and we needed to find the beastkin. ¡­It¡¯s the least I can do.


    I stifled the sigh that rose up in my chest and focused on my surroundings before gathering my will and mental energy.


    It didn''t take much energy to perform, but the mental energy requirement was not why the task was so hard. Extending a single strand of mental energy, I buried it an inch into the ground.


    Then I gathered energy at the tip before releasing the pulse like any other pulse, but with one change. I shifted the resonance of the pulse so it better matched the ambient energy of the world.


    The result was immediate and nearly overwhelming.


    I felt the bugs crawling along and just below the ground like it was my own skin. I could see the trees rising up all around me. The scent and vibrations of nature and those that inhabited it filled my nose and mind. Then the pulse extended beyond the ten immediate feet around me.


    It was too much information, more than any mortal mind could handle. Even with the information only staying in the forefront of my mind for the briefest instant before I forgot it, I was throwing my power across the forest. The pressure only increased as it forced its way into my mind scraping away at its edges as it made me confront it, becoming exponentially worse, giving me a splitting headache.


    The vice of knowledge was squeezing ever tighter. If that wasn''t telling me I was pushing myself well past my limits, I didn''t know what would.


    Then I felt it, I knew, but I didn''t know what I knew. Stopping the casting, I suppressed the last of the information and tried to center my ravaged mind.


    After some amount of time, I opened my eyes and wiped away the blood running across my lip and into my mouth. Then I got up from where I was kneeling on the leaf-covered ground and started shuffling forward.


    I was no longer using my powers to stifle the sound of my movement. I wasn''t even using my normal skills. Doing anything more than putting one foot in front of the other might break my mind.


    Maybe literally.


    People who performed a casting too much for their skill had their minds turned to mush, and they died from constantly bleeding from their ears, eyes, nose, and mouth.


    The stories of those who pushed too far did not paint a pretty picture.


    Every child is told very clearly to stop any casting they are performing when they feel a spike driven behind their eyes and a throbbing at their temples. When people kept pushing too far¡­ bad things happened.


    I was well past that. I might have had serious problems if I had held onto my casting for another couple of seconds, but now I should be fine, given some time to rest¡­ Probably.


    Even with my feet barely rising above the leaves, I moved up the hill with the grace of long repetition. As if I had traveled up the slope a thousand times before.


    At the rim of the hill, I went prone and crawled under some bushes, looking down into the valley. After a feeling of rightness passed through me, I motioned to Markus to lie down beside me.


    I looked at Markus as he settled down, whispering, "We wait here."


    He nodded in acknowledgment as he sent out a pulse to the rest of the squad to inform them to find cover.


    Hours passed as the sun traveled through the sky, and my headache gradually lessened, allowing me to perform minor castings without a problem.


    A few turns of a glass past mid-day, we saw the front edge of a warband already numbering in the hundreds after a couple of minutes entering through the valley''s far end.


    If the vanguard was this large, with no signs of stopping, we were looking at a warband numbering in the thousands.


    My eyes widened as a shiver ran down my spine, "Shit!" I hissed as I pushed off with my right leg and arm while I added to the momentum with a tendril pulling on my harness, making the leap strong enough to throw myself up and to the side.


    Reaching down as I flew to the side, I grabbed Markus, pulling him after me.


    I could see the question on his lips die as two arrows thunked into the ground where we were lying a moment ago.

 Chapter 2

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    We stood in an idyllic glade with no explanation of how we got there.


    I was in the center of the glade on a slight rise, gathered together with the other camp followers. I remember looking at the legion positioned around our hill.


    No one could explain why the Ninth Legion''s cohorts circled around the camp followers. Not that anyone complained in the end.


    One second we were marching down the road at night in the rain, complaining. The next moment we stood in the field at noon on a midsummer''s day, entirely rearranged.


    Why were the cohorts positioned around us? Why were their swords drawn and shields raised, ready for combat? Most, if any, will know how we got there. How could we? For who but the gods could answer our questions.


    And I have long accepted their decision to send us here without an explanation.


    But I am grateful they sent us prepared. As there is no way we would have survived without that advantage.


    For the beastmen, in all their mindless savagery, made their appearance within our first minutes of entering this strange new land.


    **********


    I felt four pulse messages signaling an ambush and call for assistance, one of which abruptly ended mid-send. The mental energy ripples that must have torn across the valley, carrying a desperate cry for aid, caused me to freeze in momentary shock.


    There was only one reason a pulse would cut off¡­ And that was death. If one was killed¡­ They''re all dead. I thought with confidence.


    I had long grown used to seeing and feeling the death of fellow legionaries. Can''t be part of a legion on the border territories and not get used to the death which permeates a battlefield.


    It was the coordination of the deaths, or more accurately, the attacks. They were too close together. It wasn''t normal.


    And that did not bode well for my survival.


    How did they even find all of us? They shouldn''t be able to do that.


    Find and attack a few, sure. But finding us all and attacking simultaneously was on a whole different level and was something the beastkin had never done before¡­ A shiver ran down my spine at the train of thought. Something is really wrong.


    Snapping out of my thoughts, one of my hands reached for my short sword while the other pushed my torso off the ground allowing me to scoot my legs clear of Markus.


    There were at least two enemies nearby, and lying on the ground was a good way to get killed.


    Jumping to a crouch, I finished drawing my short sword as I turned right down the hill we climbed up.


    Glancing at the arrows buried in the ground to my left side, I followed the trajectory with my eyes. Braking into a run, I searched for the beastkins I knew were hiding in the foliage, even sending out a small pulse.


    I did not see or sense anything as I continued moving, making myself a harder target to hit.


    Catching a flicker of movement to the side, I dove down the hill, feeling the arrow catch in my cloak. In mid-roll, I heard a thump behind me and the cracking of branches.


    Coming to my feet, I pulled back the small tendril I used to hold my arrows in place, my eyes locking on a¡­ shimmer around a bush.


    Brows furrowing, I hopped to the side again while extending a tendril at the person-sized shimmering air fifteen feet away.


    Before my tendril could extend more than half the distance, it became more blotchy until the center portion completely disappeared, with the edges a collection of swirling colors.


    The hole in what I could now see as a bubble in the world revealed the same bush I was looking at before, but now there were three figures in front of it.


    The two beastkin had dropped their bows to the ground below their dangling feet as their necks were clamped in Markus''s iron grip. Their hands scratched at his fingers, trying to pull them away, but it was like a child fighting an adult.


    Sending out a focused pulse, I scanned the area again. I faintly picked up the beastkin and Markus this time, but the minds were not nearly as sharp as they should be.


    Looking past the trio to the back of the bubble, I saw the inside of the veil made everything appear slightly gray outside. And it can completely hide their minds.


    That thought sent a shiver of terror running down my spine. Moving past what will likely be the cause of my death, I focused on the now.


    Quickly checking I was hidden below the rim of the valley, I crouched, getting into my scouting mindset as I moved up the slope to join Markus and his captives.


    Seeing him overpower the beastkin, I realized what had happened. Markus didn''t like advertising it, but he could enhance his body with mental energy, significantly increasing his strength, speed, and durability.


    He wasn''t up to the level of a knight, but he was almost there. Not that surprising, really. Markus was dedicated to the craft of casting and had the raw power required to enhance his body. Not pursuing such an advantage as a legionary would be stupid.


    Markus must have waited for them to shoot an arrow at me, then used his surging strength to reach them nearly instantly.


    As I made my way over, Markus released a massive pulse of energy, calling for a report of any scouts. At the same instant, the entire dome rapidly flickered, then disappeared.


    Pausing, I looked at the now completely unobscured figures. It can be overwhelmed? I thought in surprise. That''s a big weakness. Then again, who would waste such an amount of mental energy when nothing is around. Because no one will think a scout is there if they''re doing their job.


    Walking up next to Markus, my eyes snapped into focus as I turned towards the blur of motion followed by a gust of dust and leaves. He was standing over the pair, his face twisted with rage and loss.


    Markus must have guessed the death of our squad, like me. And he''s the commander¡­


    The two beastkin were writhing on the ground, mouths open in silent screams as every orifice on their head began to bleed.


    Markus was using his telepathic powers to rip their minds apart.


    I wasn''t even sure he was looking for information. He looked more like he was just using them as an outlet for his grief.


    The only sound the writhing beastkin made was the rasping of grinding dirt beneath them as they shifted. I stood there for a moment, uncertain of what to do.


    Then Markus looked up, catching my eye, before nodding back towards the ridge.


    Saluting fist to chest in acknowledgment of the silent order, I turned and started walking. Markus might tolerate me and my casual demeanor most of the time ¡ª I was a scout, after all ¡ª but all nobles had a limit. And I did not feel like pressing his at the moment.


    Gliding back up the slope, I lowered my body to the ground as I reached the summit. No need to outline myself against the sky and make a target.


    Crawling up behind a bush, I slowly moved some branches out of the way to get a better view of the valley.


    The mass of beastkin warriors moved in one large group across the bottom of the valley.


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    I could not see all of the beastkin all at once, but I could catch enough glimpses through the treetops that I got a good idea of how large this vanguard was. And it was the biggest I had ever seen.


    We were in an overwatch position long enough that we would have any other large groups pass by. This had to be the vanguard. Any group of beastkin more than a few hundred had smaller groups scattered around them. And if that wasn''t the case, then there was an even more serious problem going on.


    To my trained eye, the group of beastkin looked like an untrained mass of disorder, ready to be smashed by a legion positioned before it.


    It was a trap.


    Warbands always looked that way, which was one of the main reasons spring tribunes ¡ª along with their legionaries ¡ª had such a significant casualty rate on their first deployment to the North. They underestimated the beastkin based on appearance alone.


    Disorganized as the beastkin might appear, any attack against the group would be instantly responded to with a sudden and savage counterassault. The responses might be basic, like trying to envelop the enemy, but they are done with a surprising level of organization.


    It was like the Unity the Legion practiced, allowing them to quickly relay commands across the battlefield and fight as a single entity. No one had ever been able to find the mental links between beastkin, but however it worked for them, the results were the same.


    An instant and cohesive response to threats.


    And that was assuming that you could surprise them by making it through the hundreds of scouts surrounding any warband this large.


    A beastkin force had as much as a fourth, but usually around an eighth, of their total number spread out around them as scouts and outriders.


    Even in the short time Markus and I had been busy, the hoard of beastkin had already traveled a little less than half a mile into the three-mile-long valley.


    The real terror of a beastkin warband, was the speed at which they moved over any terrain. An average beastman, canine, bear, feline, wolverine, or what have you, can be outrun by a horse going at a decent canter, but only in the short term.


    Beastkin, in general, seem to have an endless supply of energy and can have their entire warband move at the equivalent of a fast trot all day and night, day after day.


    No legion wanted to be caught flat-footed by a beastkin warband. Either the legion will be hounded relentlessly as they try to retreat and be worn down, or the legion will be set upon before they can build a proper defensive position and have to fight the physically superior beastmen on their terms.


    Regardless of what the legatus decides, the legion will sustain heavy losses.


    At least they are trying to stay hidden. It will take them longer to reach the Triad. I thought in resignation at the coming conflict.


    I briefly thought of the possibility of getting the 15th out here to ambush them in the field but immediately rejected it. By the time we got back and reported their presence, they could be anywhere.


    And while they were moving along the bottom of the valleys now, though the trees and rocks as it was hardly seemed to be slowing a beastkin down. They could always go right over the hills.


    It would slow them down and take a large bite out of their endurance, but they could do it. Making any ambush nearly impossible. Not even considering this should only be their vanguard¡­


    "Shit~!" I moaned as large shadows flashed across the ground around me, making me break out in a cold sweat.


    I clamped my eyes closed for a long moment before I looked up.


    My breath caught in my throat, and my heart skipped a beat while my eyes widened in fear.


    "Blood and ashes," I said in a hoarse tone, "the crows are gonna feast soon¡­"


    I moved as fast as a slug as I crawled backward, keeping one eye on the sky the whole time, looking for anything else that might be up there.


    Then I saw it.


    Far off in the distance, I could see a black mass that looked a lot like a storm cloud. Except it was all alone. And second by second, I watched the shape of the mass change as portions speared out before receding.


    That''s not a cloud.


    The dark blot wasn''t coming any closer, but then again, it wasn''t getting any farther away, either.


    I thought I could just make out individual spots of black between the shifting mass and the ground. Some looked like they were diving down, while others looked like they were climbing.


    And in the middle of the warband, eight bird beastkin were landing in a clearing.


    Casting one last glance at the hawks, I looked on in confusion as I saw them clear out an area in the middle of the now-stopped warband.


    Freezing in place, I stopped breathing as the hand of death grasped my heart. I could feel it approaching, and movement was death.


    Nothing happened for long seconds, then I saw a streak of gold drop from the sky. Strands of bright yellow fire trailed in its wake, burning in the air for long seconds before vanishing.


    The streak of gold crashed to the ground in the center of the eight hawks, and a shimmering wave of gold flecks expanded out, enveloping the clearing.


    Rapidly pulling back over the rim as I crawled through the brush, I gave up my attempts at stealth and rushed over to Markus.


    Markus was crouched over one of the canine beastkin, hand pressed to their head.


    The body of the beastkin was trembling slightly as his eyes were rolled back into its head, and its jaw was clenched.


    I knew what he was doing, or at least trying to do.


    Markus might have the raw power, but he was far from having the finesse needed to be a reaver. If he gets anything, it will be disjointed. Memory fragments more open to interpretation than fact.


    Sliding to a stop next to him, I clapped my hand on his shoulder while keeping one eye on the sky.


    We were under a tree at the moment, but it was better to start keeping one eye on the sky now, just in case.


    "Markus." I hissed with quiet urgency, trying to get his attention. "Markus!" I said slightly louder, giving him a little shake when he didn''t respond.


    "What is it, Green!" He said, almost snarling at me, head snapping to the side to look me in the eyes.


    Only giving him the briefest of glances to ensure I had his attention, I went back to looking up at the sky.


    "That vanguard numbers at least two thousand. And I saw birds land in their center." I saw his face pale and his body rock back like I had just struck him. "There was also a flock of hundreds, if not thousands, a couple valleys to the northwest."


    His mouth moved for a moment without any sound coming out.


    Finally, I saw him visibly swallow his disbelief and rejection as he spoke in a hoarse, scratchy voice that caught in his throat at first, ¡°Ar¡ª are you sure? Could it have be¡ª


    Cutting him off, I said, "Check if you want." Looking him in the eye, I took a deep breath and faced reality as I said, ¡°¡­I also saw one¡­ control fire." I finished the last in a rush, like I didn''t really believe it. After sighing, I continued, "I''m leaving for the legion now."


    My eyes caught on the bodies as I turned away, and I paused as I remembered their strange ability to hide. Like I needed to worry about more¡­


    "Did you find out how they were hiding themselves?" I asked as I rocked from heel to toe, anxious to get moving. I had to ask, though. The information was important, and any answers Markus could give would be worth the wait.


    Glancing down at the bodies, Markus''s face twisted in rage for a moment before he kicked a beastman, gesturing to a broken clump of string, wood, feathers, and a broken stone in its center.


    "When I delved into their minds, I got images of this. It¡­ Umm, protected them? Shrouded is probably better¡­" His voice took on a tone of contemplation, and his eyes clouded over as he drifted off in thought before snapping into focus again. "Doesn''t matter. It stopped once I broke the thing. Wasn''t even hard. I just stepped on it."


    Studying the pile of junk for a moment, I nodded before looking Markus in the eye.


    ¡°Sir¡ª


    "I know," He said, waving his hand in dismissal, "we have to split up."


    Taking a deep breath, Markus closed his eyes. I felt a shiver run down my spine as a wave of mental energy rolled out of him.


    He was looking for something, I could tell that much from the pulse, but I had no idea what.


    Whatever it was, we didn''t have the time.


    While he was searching, I began inching away, watching the ridge line.


    Scouts, out of every other branch of the Legion, had more¡­ latitude when it came to superiors.


    It was not unknown for a scout to disappear right before a battle, not warning their superior ¡ª who was abusing them in some way ¡ª of a coming attack. All they had to do was claim they had to go to ground to avoid getting caught.


    Who could say otherwise? The Inquisitors, I thought in fear, goosebumps rising across my skin.


    But it was rare for a centurion or tribune to involve them. If they were wrong, there would be consequences. And depending on what the superior did to the scout for them to act that way, there could be even worse consequences.


    So scouts had a very loose chain of command, even with superiors within their own ranks. As long as they came back with valuable information, most things would be overlooked.


    Eyeing Markus standing like a statue, eyes still closed, I was a second away from just turning and leaving.


    My heart dropped to my stomach when I saw his back stiffen and face go as white as snow.


    He turned to me, his eyes wide, and I saw him mouth the word run.


    I didn''t hear the words, though, because if he said anything at all, it was drowned out by a piercing screech that cracked over the forest.


    It was the cry of a predator on the hunt.


    If Markus said anything more, I had no idea.


    I had already turned and was running down the hill.

 Chapter 3

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    They came with teeth and claws.


    Monsters more likely to be attributed to the legends of gods and heroes than found in daily life. Or they would be where I was born.


    The beasts had aspects of humans ¡ª such hauntingly similar features and mannerisms ¡ª but you could never mistake them as such. They have forelimbs reaching almost to their knees and are covered in fur while spending most of their time on all fours.


    The beasts jumped between the trees into the clearing before racing across the ground and through the tall grass.


    At first, only a few scattered soldiers around the large clearing noticed the charging beasts. And few cared or heeded their calls of alarm as everyone was shouting and looking around, searching for answers to what had happened. Why we were here.


    Who cared about wild animals? For what beast would willingly rush toward a mass of thousands of humans?


    When the frontrunners of the beastmen leaped onto the first ranks of legionaries, the beasts dug their claws into the backs and shoulders of the men who had turned around before burying their fangs into the base of their necks. The unlucky legionaries'' blood-chilling screams of pain lanced into the air, snatching everyone''s attention.


    The desperate fear-filled voices fell to gurgles before anyone could act as the beasts reared back, ripping out a chunk of the soldiers'' throats.


    Then howls filled the clearing as the beasts poured out from the surrounding ring of trees by the thousands.


    And all we knew ¡ª all we needed to know ¡ª was these monsters must be killed. Or we would be.


    **********


    The cry of the eagle beastkin still rang in my ears.


    And even after running for what must be over a minute, I still felt like the cry was ringing in my head.


    It was like I had been marked as prey, and it was somehow tracking me while I was under the trees.


    On foot, I might be able to outrun a pack of beastkin. Not because I could out skint or outlast them but because I could lose them by running through the tops of trees or through a river.


    They would eventually find my trail and start hounding me again, but those tricks were usually enough for me to get some rest or get out of the area.


    I had spent more than my share of time running through forests and along the slopes of mountains being chased by beastkin.


    In all those encounters, only a single time was a flying beastkin involved. I think it might have been a hawk, but I really didn''t care what subspecies it was at the time. All that mattered was it could fly.


    Over the day and night it chased me, the beastkin only lost track of me a few times, and that was when I slipped under some cover. Whenever I started moving again, it was right there in the sky.


    It always seemed to hover miles overhead, taunting me before it swooped down to signal the feline beastkin tracking me through the mountains.


    In the end, I had to jump over the side of a waterfall to bait the bird close enough to shoot it with my bow.


    As I jumped from the rocky ledge, I used a mental strand to guide a tied-off rope and catch it onto an outcropping on the cliff face. At the same time, I coiled the rope around my waist and tied it off, securing me.


    When the rope went taught, it swung me inward towards the wall of stone. Absorbing the impact with a bend of my knees, I planted my feet before extending to my full height while standing perpendicular to the granite rock.


    Raising my bow, I drew the arrow nocked on the string back to my cheek and waited. The cocky bird did exactly as I hoped a few seconds later, as it flew a dozen feet above the edge, putting him less than fifty feet from where I hung.


    I missed killing the bastard, but I hit him in the wing. Which was enough to force the creature to land, letting me get away from the pursuing cats.


    I was knocked out of my memory when I heard a loud thump behind me.


    Moments later, I heard the crack of something slamming into a tree at high speed to my side. It was followed by creaking, crackling pops as a tree trunk broke and started to fall.


    As the leaves whoosh through the air and the trunk hit the ground, I could faintly make out a second thump.


    I threw a glance over my shoulder and saw what I expected. A hundred feet to my right side was a newly collapsed tree, and a few feet past the downed tree farther down the hill was a cloud of dust above a crater. Turning my head nearly all the way around, I could faintly make out a second cloud of dust through the trees.


    I grumbled mentally in jealousy as more thumps rapidly distanced themselves from me.


    Markus was making a run for it.


    He should make it back to camp, which was a weight off my mind.


    If the information was going to make it back to the legion, then all I had to do was survive. No reason to waste a valuable piece of legion property. I''m sure they have plans for me to die in other places.


    But now the beastkin had an obvious point to start a search and a reason to do so. One of the two they could track was already gone.


    I only really had one option at this point. There was no way I was sneaking out of this forest with the numbers that would soon flood through it. I had to find a hiding spot and wait for the warband to pass.


    Five feet from my body, I began projecting a sphere of perception filling the area with a tenth of my mental energy and willpower. It was all that I could manage.


    It wasn''t much, considering it was said a High Lord can project a perception sphere around themselves for a quarter mile in every direction, but it was more than most people could do. Regardless of how much control I had, certain facts could not be avoided.


    The main limitation for a perception sphere, in most cases, wasn''t the area one could project their mental energy into. It was the amount of information they could process.


    Even I, the lowest of the low when it came to raw power, could form a perception sphere for a quarter of a mile in diameter.


    I wouldn''t be able to tell much, if anything, about the area before the information flooding my mind turned it to mush, and I died, but I could technically form it.


    A perception sphere wasn''t like a pulse that only showed what it was currently passing over. A sphere showed everything from the boundary to your skin.


    The colorless shapes of everything within the sphere flowed into the caster''s mind every moment. Information you had to process and push into your subconscious. Having a near-endless stream of disjointed information flow through one''s mind was¡­ disconcerting, to say the least.


    Eight out of ten people who attempted a sphere without the standard mental energy reserves either went mad or became mindless husks on their first attempt.


    After that, we survivors are fine so long as we don''t overly strain ourselves. Usually.


    It still nearly knocks us on the ass every time with a migraine for an hour or two.


    Nearly being the keyword. There are ways those of us with less¡­ power can push ourselves to become more. If we are willing to take risks and suffer pain.


    Risks I have long been willing to take since they allow me to find the beastkin warband as quickly and relatively safely as I did.


    The facts still remained the same, though, if you wanted a larger perception sphere, you needed more mental energy. There is no way around it.


    And while you can slowly increase the amount of mental energy you have with time and training, it is like a year of effort to add a single drop of water to a bucket. After adolescence, there are no large spikes in mental energy.


    I have read scholarly works that theorized that the correlation between handling the mental load of a larger perception sphere and larger reserves of mental energy was an individual''s innate ability to naturally offload the mental strain onto their powers. Making an impossible task for most people little more than an afterthought for those with power.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    It wasn''t like the more power one had, the bigger your brain was or anything like that. As people with lots of mental energy weren''t any more intelligent than anyone else, they could just do stuff no one with less mental energy could hope to accomplish.


    Which really begged the question of why that was the case. But I had better things to worry about than a scholarly question with no answer, like running through this forest while leaving as little of a trail as possible.


    There is no one running through the forest ¡ª while being chased by beastkins racing across the ground and flying in the air ¡ª who has time to ensure they aren''t leaving a trail. They aren''t going to blaze a path through the forest, but leaving no signs at all is impossible. Those being pursued need to find a place to hide and hope they aren''t found.


    That didn''t mean I couldn''t minimize my trail.


    Telekinetic tendril snapping out, I wrapped it around a branch. As I passed the bush, the branch caught on my clothing. The branch began bending to the point that it should have cracked before bounding back undamaged.


    The next step I took became a half step as I leaped forward over a decaying log covered in moss. My perception sphere showed me it couldn''t hold my weight, and the damage I could leave would make an obvious trail.


    I landed on the balls of my feet as I danced around twigs and patches of grass, searching for clear ground or rocks just under the detritus making up the forest floor.


    It was not perfect, as my sphere was not large enough to be perfect, and I had little to no time to react. And often, I was left with no way forward without leaving a footprint in the soft patch of soil.


    Which left me to make my best guess on where to go based on what I could see. I was usually right.


    When I wasn''t, and depending on how much of a mess I made when I fucked up, I either left it hoping it would go unnoticed or spent a few seconds leaping about, hoping to make it unclear which direction I had gone.


    Minutes passed as I continued to run through the forest, passing oak and beech trees while slipping around the reaching branches of small bushes. I tried to stay under the thickest trees, but I knew time was running out.


    The beastkin must have made it to where we had started our escape. And with the canine beastkin, even a casual inspection of the area would reveal the scent of an elf.


    I couldn''t speak for Markus, but my concealment castings slipped for a while there. Not that they needed anything more to know someone was about with two of theirs dead.


    Right now, I wasn''t even bothering to do more than the most basic scent concealment casting. Those castings were meant for measured, controlled movements, not sprinting.


    The fuckers weren''t as good as tracking hounds, but they weren''t all that much worse, either.


    Making it to the bottom of the valley, I ran for a minute or two before coming across a shallow stream mostly hidden by the trees.


    There was a definite patch running down the center that was bathed in sunlight, but it was hidden enough¡­ Right?


    It had to be.


    Only hesitating at the edge of the small stream for a second, I jumped down the bank onto one rock after another as I made my way downstream.


    Splashing downstream for two minutes, the stream''s banks became little more than a large step. The western bank was calling me. Asking me to hop over them and into the welcoming embrace of the shadows under the forest''s boughs.


    Then I felt a gaze stabbing into the back of my head, sending a shiver down my spine.


    There was no need to look. I knew what I would find, but I looked regardless.


    Up in the sky, what looked like a miniature human figure with wings and golden feathers hovered in the air.


    The gold-feathered bastard looked like a lord sitting on his thrown overlooking his city and all its subjects. Specifically, me. Shit~.


    I did not like the arrogance in his eyes as he looked down on me.


    As the figure turned, a screeching cry rang out. The very air seemed to shake from the cry''s power.


    Like a rabbit startled into flight by a snapping twig, I bolted from the river and into the forest. But not before I flipped off the bird brain with both hands.


    All I did was run, forgetting any attempts to obscure my path. I needed distance and time, and I was not going to get either by a half-hearted flight.


    Even if the bird could catch sight of me through the trees, there was no way it could dive down on me through all the limbs.


    "Bloody crows take you all!" I huffed at the beastkin as I ran. My sword slapped against my waist with every stride. I clenched my bow in my fist while my quiver slapped against my back.


    For the briefest moment, I thought about dumping everything and seeing how far I could run at a dead sprint, but the thought left as fast as it came.


    I knew they would catch up sooner rather than later, and when they did, I would go down swinging like a legionary.


    Down the valley parallel to the river, I ran. I angled myself so that I would ever so slightly climb out the valley''s eastern slope. Not that I would make it that far, but the western slope was closer to the warband.


    I wasn''t inclined to go in that direction for some reason, couldn''t say why.


    Without a doubt, I was in shape. And I was assisting my movements with a tendril pulling forward slightly on my harness, making it even easier, but being in shape and running up and down rolling valleys that made up the Northern Forest was something altogether different. Only crazy people ran up mountains for fun. I thought, beginning my climb up the foothill.


    There had to be beastkin scouts out here somewhere, but why would they pursue me without them seeing me or meeting one of their kin? Well, not unless they were already ord¡ª


    A howl echoed across the valley, causing my steps to stutter in a primal moment of fear. I knew I was being hunted, and I did not like it. Didn''t need the howling reminder, either.


    It was hard to tell exactly how far it was with the noise echoing off the slopes of the valley, but it was at most a mile, maybe a mile and a half behind me if I was lucky.


    All around the valley, more howls sounded, combining to make a chorus.


    "Fuck~!" I moaned. They were everywhere.


    Sighing to myself, I slowed my pace and started searching my surroundings.


    While I was running, I hadn''t really taken the time to look around, but the area I was in was strange. There were a lot of rocks scattered around the trees. It was almost as if¡­


    A crooked smile spread across my face, and a barking laugh exploded from my throat. Now? Of all the times in my life? I thought sardonically.


    I inspected the trees growing around and on the piles and overly large square stone blocks scattered around, becoming more sure by the moment.


    As I traveled deeper into the significant depression hollowed out of the hillside, it looked like someone had gathered all the stones that were once scattered around the entire valley and tossed them here in random piles.


    My eyes scanned the area, searching for the densest clusters of rocks. It worked. After a few hundred feet, I could hardly take a step without tripping over another pile of stones.


    The howls behind and to my sides were getting louder and coming more often, but I didn''t care.


    If I was right ¡ª and had a bit of luck ¡ª I would live. If not, I would take as many beastkins as I could with me.


    And at least I was in an area so overgrown with trees that there was no way the bird could see or get to me. The shrieks of annoyance overhead were music to my ears.


    I squinted my eyes as I thought I could make out a clearing a few hundred yards in front of me.


    A scrape of claws against a stone, followed by a clatter of a rock falling, sounded behind me.


    Diving forward, I tried to roll over my back before spinning around to face my attackers, but I forgot where I was.


    Well, not really. I knew exactly where I was¡­


    ¡­I was pretty sure I knew where I was.


    I also knew the ground was covered in piles of rocks, and I needed to watch my step. Otherwise, I would fall over from tripping on them like an idiot.


    The fact rocks covered the ground and rolling would be a monumentally painful and stupid idea did not cross my mind.


    Not until the first rock jabbed into my back. "Gahh! By the Guardians!"


    The first rock wasn''t that bad. Sure, it bruised my kidney, and I was pretty sure I would be pissing out blood for a while, but then I rolled into some tall grass that would be nice and soft.


    Instead of coming to my feet after a semi-graceful roll, I hit the boulder hidden by the tall grass with my back. Thrown to the side, I landed on a stupidly pointy rock that stabbed right under my bottom rib and into my chest.


    Flopping to my stomach, I drove my hands into the ground, hopping to my feet. The pain and potential stone embedded in my side pushed to the back of my mind.


    I let out a few grunts and moans along the way, but what mattered was I got to my feet only a second or two after the roll I imagined performing would have.


    As I looked up, annoyance flared inside of me.


    I was right.


    There was a male canine beastkin behind me. Two actually. Well, one was a woman, but who cares about semantics.


    What there was not was an arrow or spear lodged into the ground right in line with where I was running before I¡­ dodged. The bastards didn''t have any ranged weapons at all. I hate both of you. I thought with squinted eyes.


    Sighing, I rolled my shoulder and leaned to the side, stretching my back with a groan, trying to loosen up the knot that had suddenly formed. Then started walking towards the pair of beastkin charging at me on all fours.


    Dropping my bow to the ground, I drew my blade as I casually took one step after another toward the two.


    When I was ten feet from the beastkin, my eye twitched, and four arrows lept out of my quiver and then shot forward almost as fast as an unassisted bow.


    The two leading arrows shot at the faces of the beastkin, making them rear up and knock the arrows out of the air with their claws as they continued toward me.


    The other two arrows slammed through their trailing feet, pinning them to the ground.


    Both of the beastkin stumbled as they ripped the arrows out of the ground and fell, somehow missing all the rocks strewn about and smashing their unusually large muzzles into a soft patch of soil.


    Before the pair had even started falling, I was lunging forward with my drawn short sword.


    As the leading beastkin hit the ground, I slightly adjusted my aim, slamming half my sword''s length into the back of his skull. Hate.


    The female received an arrow through her throat as she fell. You.


    Looking at her with squinted eyes, I used another strand of mental energy to slam an arrow into her back. Both.


    Turning away, I sheathed my sword, picked up my bow with a strand, and started running toward the clearing.


    Beastkins were tough bastards. The young beast-woman might live. I''ve seen other beastkin that have lived with an arrow through the throat.


    Not that I cared one way or the other. All I needed to know what that she wouldn''t be a problem for the foreseeable future.


    I was barely halfway to the clearing as the constant howls of the canine beastkin grew ever closer and more aggressive. They must have scented the blood of their fallen drifting into the air.


    Pushing myself to run harder, my eyes flicked to the deep shadows of the forest around me as I imagined beastkin leaping out of them.


    Stumbling to a stop at the edge of the clearing, an astonished smile crept over my face.


    It looked like I might not die.

 Chapter 4

    Excerpt from the Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    The bodies of beasts and legionaries mounted high as the fight dragged on.


    A ring of the dead and dying surrounded our position, and the beasts continually threw themselves forward with mindless savagery.


    It only took the first minutes of the fight for everyone to realize what was happening. The legionaries were fighting for our survival. That these creatures would not stop until one of us ceased to exist.


    For how could anyone expect mercy from the merging of beasts and man? They were ¡ª and remain to this day ¡ª mindless beasts of instinct and aggression.


    It was why everyone continued to fight as their brothers were ripped to shreds next to them. Why they didn''t need the iron wills and shouts of the centurions to drive them forward and keep fighting.


    All it took was one glance into the dead, soulless eyes of the beasts, and they knew there would be no surrender or retreat.


    If a man instinctually knows there is no possibility of fleeing, then they will become more beast than man as they fight to survive.


    The ninth would win, or everyone would die.


    And in everyone''s hearts, as they took a moment to look around and notice the unfamiliar plants in the surrounding forest, they knew they would never see Rome again.


    They knew they were not home. Would never see home again.


    And if these creatures lurked in the forest, what else was out there? What challenged them?


    **********


    I stood at the edge of the clearing for a second, taking everything in.


    If I had the time, I would have remained rooted in place for hours, taking in a view straight out of legends while dwelling on the feeling of peace and tranquility overcoming me. The feelings were so oppressive that it was hard to take so much as a single step forward.


    But I had to move forward, not to escape my pursuers, but to get a better view.


    In my youth, I remember the stories my mother would tell me about the ancient fortresses and cities deep within the heart of the Great Forest. Stories of ruins still holding living Dawn Trees, and hidden under their roots, legions of Guardians. Those who sacrificed their lives to protect the branches of the World Tree.


    I never thought that I would come across a Dawn Tree¡­ And be forced to bring creatures that can only destroy following in my wake. Their impending defilement of this sacred site grated on me.


    But what was done was done. Gathering my thoughts, I pushed back the emotions filling me and moved onto the manicured grass.


    My unwavering steps toward the massive tree took me across the grass lawn, eyes never moving from my goal. From the sides of my eyes, I saw patches of multi-colored flowers and small pools of clear water, but most of the area around the tree was that of a trimmed lawn.


    Even the flowers had the look of them being carefully placed and cultivated. The weird thing was, there was no sign of anyone or thing around who would do the tending.


    I couldn''t stop the contented smile from spreading over my face as I looked upon the Dawn Tree.


    It should have been visible from anywhere in the valley. Probably even beyond.


    The Dawn Tree towered at least a hundred feet over the surrounding trees, letting sunlight slip under its branches and filling the clearing with light. Its limbs and leaves spread over the entire four hundred feet of the clearing, nearly touching the encircling trees but not quite.


    The shimmering golden leaves of the Dawn Tree swayed high overhead, casting reflections of golden light on the grass and flowers below.


    The dark brown trunk of the Dawn Tree hid lines of silver-gray scattered between patches of bark. And if I had to guess, the trunk had to be at least forty feet around.


    I blinked and noticed I had stopped moving a few dozen feet from the trunk of the tree. My brow wrinkled in confusion, but even as I searched my memory, my thoughts were slipping from my grasp.


    Quickly gathering my mental energy and willpower, I slammed a shield around my mind. Immediately, I felt my thoughts flowing easier, and I redoubled my efforts in reinforcing the shield. Though it was hazy, I realized that after my initial brisk steps into the clearing, my steps became increasingly slow and stilted until I stopped walking entirely, basking in the ambiance of the clearing.


    More than that, I could no longer hear the howls of the beastkin that hounded me.


    And¡­ I felt at peace. Like I was at home and could relax for as long as needed before returning to the wider world. I hadn''t felt such a way since leaving my village.


    Marshaling my thoughts, I took a step forward toward the Dawn Tree.


    It felt like I was walking upriver while a strong wind blew against my chest. I hadn''t even completed my step before I understood. However, that wasn''t saying much, as I was moving in slow motion.


    The feeling of peace and contentment was billowing off the tree in mental waves, and the closer I got to the tree, the stronger the feelings became.


    Taking one step, then another, I slowly kept progressing forward.


    I had no choice, not really. The mental casting saturating this place was wearing on me.


    It was filling my head with ideas. At first, it was like someone was shouting ideas at me, but as time passed, it became increasingly hard to tell if the thoughts were coming from an external source.


    After all, the whispers were so sweet and soothing. Lie down¡­ Sleep. Everything will be fine. There is no reason to fight. Just rest.


    Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up! I shouted in my own mind.


    I needed to keep moving. To keep going forward.


    If I stopped for even a single moment, I doubted I could start again. And If I tried to leave, I would have to face the warband hunting for me alone.


    Moment by moment, step after step, I slowed down as I struggled to move forward. My foot hung in the air for long seconds as it inched onwards.


    I did not remember when it started, but suddenly, I found sweat had broken out over my entire body.


    My clothes stuck to my limbs, sweat dripping from my chin as my body shook with the strain of my silent struggle.


    It was not that what I was doing was physically taxing, at least no more than the days I spent stalking creatures through the forest for my job.


    But mentally, I was unsure how long I could go on.


    This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The desire to lie down and sleep kept building upon itself. It was insidious in its pursuit of achieving those goals.


    The exertion I was performing to keep moving fed the growing need to rest and sleep. Lay down and relax. Let go of your troubles. Whispered a passing thought through my mind.


    Gritting my teeth, I slowly shook my head, trying to throw the thoughts out of my mind.


    More than the ever-growing desire to rest, what was really causing me problems was the desire to be at peace. It was suppressing my urge to keep fighting ¡ª to keep surviving ¡ª while slowing down my thoughts. And I had been fighting for so long, both as a legionary and to prove myself as an elf, that the idea of just letting go was looking ever more appealing.


    Tranquility was clouding my min¡ª


    I lowered my left foot.


    I raised my right.


    Over and over, one after another, after another.


    And with every step, I stripped away my desires. My needs.


    My thoughts slowed, and all that was left was action. Facts.


    My eyes remained locked, unblinking, on the tree.


    I would make it.


    The reason did not matter. I had no decisions or desires on the matter. It was a fact, and my body was the instrument by which it would happen.


    Some amount of time passed, and my body was standing within arm''s reach of the tree, but it was not what my body needed.


    An image crafted from bedtime stories was burning in my body''s mind. And it would find it.


    Eyes arduously shifting one way and then the other, my body turned right.


    Foot raising, my body started moving, this time around the tree.


    Step after step, keeping the tree in the corner of my eye and the golden leaves above, my body moved around the tree.


    Until my body stopped before its goal. An alabaster white stone pedestal was sticking out of the ground. A dome of scarlet stone was placed on top and in the center of the pedestal. The scarlet object would have a ripple run from the top to the base every second.


    Reaching out, my body''s hand positioned itself above the half-dome, then fell onto it.


    A jolt ran through my body¡­


    I felt myself come alive and regain my senses.


    My breathing picked up to normal, and the fog suppressing my mind was burned away by the power that lay under my hand.


    For the first time since I entered the clearing, I had full clarity. "Wait, what is¡­ Shi¡ª Ahh!"


    The pulsing power under my hand sent tendrils of energy burrowing through my flesh. I had never felt anything like it before, and it caused me to be momentarily uncertain about what to do.


    Pushing past the shock, I quickly gathered my mental energy. I tried to form a barrier in my arm to stop it, but the foreign energy swelled forward without a pause. The shattered energy of my meager defenses was forced farther back into my body.


    I tried throwing more of my mental energy to stop its rapid advance, but my efforts were shrugged to the side like a child trying to stop the advance of an adult. Within moments, the foreign power reached my mind.


    And my life started flashing before my eyes.


    **********


    I squatted next to the hard-packed single road leading to our small village with my friends Beech and White.


    We were showing off our rock collections, but it was just an excuse. We had shown them off a couple weeks ago, and no one had bragged about adding anything impressive to their collection in the meantime.


    The real reason we were there was the merchant that visited the village every month was due any day now, and we wanted to be the first to greet him.


    The only exciting part was Beech levitating his rocks around his body, showing off his budding control over his mental powers. I was not jealous. Not at all.


    "You know, the other day when we went adventuring for a Dawn Tree but found nothing, well, I was dumping out my pockets once I was home, and this stone with green lines running through it fell out¡­" I trailed off as a noise caught my attention.


    Looking up, a smile spread over my face as I saw a wagon making its way around the distant bend in the road.


    "He''s here!" I shouted, taking off at a sprint down the road to be the first to meet Merchant Kale.


    "Hey!" Shouted White in indignation.


    "What? Guys! Were ar¡ª Hey~! W-wait for me!" Complained Beech.


    We raced down the trail, with me in the lead. And I could hear White closing the distance between us. She could not pull ahead.


    Halfway there, I saw one of the guards walking with the wagon step to the side of the rest and remove his helmet.


    I slid to a stop at the shock of seeing my father''s face revealed, letting White dart past me with a shout of triumph.


    The shout broke me out of my stunned state, and I sprinted forward again.


    I was no longer trying to make it to the merchant cart first. I just wanted to make it to my father as fast as possible.


    As we quickly traversed the distance, the gap between White and me slowly began to close again.


    She was huffing and puffing, her head turned to the side, and as I lessened the gap between us even more in the last hundred feet, my competitive nature kicked in, and I started trying to win again, as I was right on her heels.


    White released a scream of effort and started pulling ahead despite my efforts. Inch by inch, she increased the distance, making what was neck and neck race into one where she leading by a good arm''s length.


    In silent mutual agreement, my father was the finish line. A moment after White blasted past him, I dove into his arms.


    I was slightly sad I lost the race, but as my father scooped me up into his arms, letting out a laugh and squeezing me tight, the feeling only lasted a moment.


    A second later, he set me down, ruffling my hair. Then his smile vanished, and he flinched as someone spoke. His face began twitching as he tried to stop the grief from showing on his face as White slowly walked up to us.


    "Where''s father?" She asked with quiet desperation filling her voice.


    Kneeling in front of White, my father put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. "I and sorry, White Rabbit Dancing Across the Snow, your father¡­" Father''s voice caught in his throat, unable to finish the sentence.


    White''s face had lost its color the instant she saw my father''s face and started shaking her head, tears filling her eyes.


    Only me and Beech were still looking at my father and White. The guards and merchant were looking away, trying to give the duo space. They had all seen it before, too many times.


    White tried to step back, but the unyielding hand of my father would not let her move.


    Father''s faltering voice continued, ¡°¡­H¡ª he died in the shield wall saving a comrade. His death is worthy of respect."


    Tears were streaming down White''s face, and I reached out to her as she fell to the ground, crying into her hands.


    **********


    My father had returned from his tour in the Volunteer Legion as a scout a month ago. He had lost his oldest friend, White''s father, during that time, and he was not the same as I remembered. Not that I remembered much.


    I could feel a tension in him every time he looked at me. But all of a sudden, this morning, he said he would teach me how to shoot a bow and hunt properly.


    I remember that he always said that he would, but it went along with him saying, "Soon, son. I''ll teach you all too soon." as he ruffled my hair before moving away.


    But then he left to join a volunteer legion meant to guard the northern border against the beastkin as the war with the Imperium picked up, and the 18th legion was pulled away. The extra money we got was great, but he was away for three years. Not that he could have started teaching me all that much sooner. I was only eight when he left, and I still had a lot of growing to do.


    Now, he stalked around me as I drew back a bow string before slowly lowering it back to resting. He was pointing out faults in my stance by whacking me with a switch.


    He said it would allow me to keep my focus ''no matter what.'' "Oww!" I screamed and flinched to the side after a hit.


    "Focus Green! You dropped your bow. That''s another fifty pushups."


    "Aww! Come on," I whined.


    "Another hundred pushups." Stated my father.


    I glared at him as he turned his back, but it changed nothing.


    **********


    I stalked through the forest, using my mental powers and training like my father had taught me.


    I had to make the smallest drop of mental power count. My reserves were slightly less than average for an elf my age, and while I hoped I would be one of the rare few with a massive spike at the end of adolescence, it was a faint hope. More of a wish at this point.


    My shortcomings would have to be made up with hard training and a strong will, just like my father.


    Eyes focused on my target, I steadily approached. A part of my mind was tracking where I could take a step to make the least amount of sound. Any sound I did make was muffled to nothing as I formed a mental tendril around where my foot landed, closing off the area.


    Covering my whole body but the bottoms of my feet, I layered a telekinetic shield around my body containing my scent.


    So long as I moved slowly enough, there should be nothing to alarm the deer.


    I smoothly crept forward. Without a sound or trace to mark my passing.


    As I reached the haunch of the deer, I did not stop or slow in indecision. And any jerking or rushing from excitement was long since beaten out of me.


    I continued at the same measured pace, passing a hand''s width from the deer''s side until I could reach around the animal''s neck as it looked around, a sense of alarm triggering too late to save it. In one smooth motion, I pressed my blade into its neck, pulling the knife to the side and slitting its throat.


    As I stepped to the side, I watched the deer bound once before it dropped to the ground, bleeding out its life''s blood.


    I jerked in surprise as a voice rang out, "Good job, son. I could not have done it better myself."


    Turning, I saw my father leaning against a tree a hundred feet away, arms crossed. He was smiling, a sight I had hardly seen in years. Smiling with pride. And relief.


    **********


    I joined the legion as a scout.


    I hunted beastkin through the forest and mountains as I was tracked and hunted in turn. A battle of skill that set my heart pumping with excitement.


    I used every trick my father taught me with his hard, demanding lessons. Used them to a degree I would have thought impossible in my youth. That would have been impossible without my life being the cost of failure.


    Every moment of my life seemed to flash before my eyes, at least all the ones that mattered, and a few I could have sworn never happened.


    Then everything stopped, and my mind was filled with a white field.


    "The time of transformation has almost arrived, and still, there is little hope¡­" Murmured a soft, melodic voice to herself, sounding sad, "What can I do for you before the end, Little One?"

 Chapter 5

    Excerpt from The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    All hope was lost. Our deaths were near.


    Hundreds ¡ª perhaps a thousand, if I am being generous and delusional ¡ª of the creatures lay dead, intermingled with the bodies of more than two thousand dead and dying legionaries. Bodies the ninth had to leave behind as the cohorts shrunk inward as their numbers diminished.


    They could not hold against the savage ferocity and supernatural strength of the creatures. The legionaries were not trained nor had the experience or ability to withstand such a fight.


    We would have already been destroyed, but after the initial rush, the beasts began holding back most of their number to circle around our small hill. Taunting us were constant howls and lying around yawning, showing off their fangs.


    Even their half-hearted toying with us was still too much. The beast''s swipes would knock men back or to the side, shattering the line. Leaving them open to attacks.


    Before the men could recover, the beasts would lunge forward, ripping out throats or slashing a man''s chest open to the spine with their claws.


    Slowly, inevitably, the lines crumpled. Soldier after soldier was ripped from the lines.


    I remember the women and other camp followers grabbing spears and extra equipment from the supply wagons. Anyone and everyone was holding a weapon or the next best thing.


    We could all see what was coming. We knew what was about to happen to us. Because we saw it happening to our legion.


    But we would not go down without a fight.


    Even I, a child of five at the time, had a long knife thrust into my hands by a wounded soldier rushing to rejoin the line.


    And then they road out of the forests on horses of purest white.


    They were tall, elegant, majestic creatures that all bore the air of royalty around their shoulders.


    With a wave of the leader''s hand, the very air seemed to pulse out in a wave, ripping up the ground and anything on it in an ever-expanding arching explosion.


    Two thousand creatures poised to rip us to shreds were killed in two explosive seconds.


    **********


    At first, I was unsure whether what I heard was my imagination or not. I remembered walking through a mind-clouding meadow towards what I thought was a Dawn Tree, but I was starting to think things weren''t exactly as they appeared. And no matter how clear my thoughts seemed to be, all I could see was white. Assuming I was still being mentally manipulated seemed prudent.


    "Why did you come here, Little One." The same soft, motherly voice asked mentally, "If it is within this branch''s power, it will be done."


    I was stunned. The voice made me feel like I was lying under the branches of a tree in the height of summer, trying to cool off while falling asleep.


    Any doubts I had vanished in the face of the love-filled voice and intent. If this wasn''t a Dawn Tree, it was something akin to it.


    "Greetings, Ancestor. I am honored that you would speak with me," I thought back while trying to bow. My body did not move, at least not that I could tell, but I felt the intent was sent with my thoughts.


    "There is no need for that, Little One." The feminine voice sounded slightly amused by my thoughts, "I care little for long, meaningless formalities; this branch has spoken to so few in recent centuries, and time is¡­ not on our side."


    Panic and shame washed through me at the words.


    Every elf child grew up hearing stories of the Ancestor and her Guardians. The human nobles and aristocrats scorned our continued reverence of them.


    They claimed the Ancestor and Guardians were nothing more than the Ancients, those who made up the elven kingdom that once spanned the continent. A kingdom that was nothing but a cesspit of backstabbers who turned on the Republic in its infancy, nearly destroying it. After promising Olimpia support and aid in times of need, the old elves tried to destroy the Gauntlet, leaving Olimpia open for a beastkin hoard. It was only through an unbelievable level of determination and grit that the defenders held off both of the attacks before turning on and destroying those who betrayed them.


    The actions of the Ancients were unredeemable and the main reason elves today are treated as a second class. But despite how we suffer rightfully for the Ancient''s actions, they are not the Ancestor or Guardians.


    Our legends are clear.


    While they might be our elders and ancestors, the Ancients are not what we honor with stories and legends. That right belongs to the World Tree, which we were all born from, and the Dawn Trees, which are the branches of the World Tree in this world.


    The Ancestor is, and will always be, represented by the Dawn Trees, all of which were connected because there is only one. And no Dawn Tree was ever spoken about without its Guardians, the ever-vigilant protectors.


    But I, like most, had always thought of them as stories. Myths never to be seen but always spoken of with reverence by the elders.


    Everyone in an elf village had a story of their youths where they trekked into the forest on grand adventures, looking for a Dawn Tree. But every half a century, someone would venture into the heart of the Great Wood, going out on a real adventure.


    Some sought to reclaim a portion of our lost glory. Others ventured into the forest to fulfill a sense of exploration. It was rare for any to return.


    And those that did return never spoke of finding anything besides giant monsters who chased them deep in the forest.


    And yet, here I was. Here it was.


    I always wanted to know if Dawn Trees were real.


    In my youth, I would venture off into the forest with my friends in search of The Lost City of the Guardians.


    The one city that never fell to the humans, despite all its inhabitants long since dying.


    At a moment when I was reasonably confident I was going to die, I indulged in a juvenile fantasy. To search a lost and forgotten ruin in search of a Dawn Tree.


    Then, a miracle happened.


    By the Ancestor and fucking Guardians, I found a Dawn Tree. And it spoke to me. Like all the tales and legends my mother told me while I was trying to fall asleep.


    It was true, all true, and now I was weeping tears filled with sorrow. I could feel the tree through the scarlet half-sphere, and it was dying.


    Because I was here making her use energy. And so were the beastkin to my side. I couldn''t see them, but I knew they were there regardless, just past the edge of the clearing.


    "Do not cry, Little One." The motherly rustling voice said as a soft caressing breeze washed over my mind, gently enveloping it as if it was a hug. For the briefest instant, I was filled with her loving affection, and I felt the power behind the mental hug. It was so great that I could not conceive of its edges. But it left me as unharmed as a parent squeezing their infant child to their chest after whisking it from the path of a wagon. Under the Dawn Trees branches, I was safe. "It was time this branch died. Nothing lasts forever. At least this way, I may preserve some of my children. Now speak, what can I do for you?"


    I hesitated for a moment, considering what I should ask. Or if I should ask anything at all. But the warmth of the Dawn Tree still filled me, snuffing out any regrets or guilt I might have about coming here. What''s done is done, and I wanted to live, so I said, "I need time. And a way out of this valley away from the beastkin."


    ¡°Hmm¡­ that could be a problem¡­ The Lost Ones are also¡­ Though they''re not so lost anymore, are they. And you might¡­ yes, I think that''s best."


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The Dawn Tree''s mind washed over me as it thought about my request and how to deal with it. I caught bits and pieces of thought, but it was apparently not as simple as I had hoped, causing me to tense up in concern.


    "Getting you out is easy." She reassured me, washing away all of my tension with her soothing voice. "Finish your journey under my boughs by moving to the trees behind you. After a short distance, the trees will end at a hillside. Find a tree with a large hollow in its trunk and search inside to find a lever to open a passageway to an escape tunnel. As for time, the Guardians will stall the beastkin, but they won''t last long. It might not be much, but it is all I can offer."


    "Thank you." I sent to the Dawn Tree. And I even managed to bow slightly.


    I could feel the power the Dawn Tree was using to keep me in place while searching my mind was receding. But the power surged back over me, sending me one final message.


    "Once you are free from the mindscape, the protections of the glade will vanish, and those outside will be free to enter unimpeded." The Dawn Tree paused, and I could tell she was not done talking. She was just thinking of what to say next. "Should the time ever come where you remember, and you need answers and power to protect, search out my heart. The Mantle must be taken up before it''s too late, and I believe you can bare¡ª."


    The soft whispers of the Dawn Tree fell away into indistinct murmurs before she finished. Along with her words, the unimaginable power that enveloped me a moment before whooshed away like a receding tide.


    I blinked, and the blank white, endless white filling my mind disappeared. Looking blankly down, I moved my hand away from the scarlet half-sphere, seeing it was dim and lifeless.


    Pressing my hand back down on the dim sphere, I called out, hoping she would answer, "Wait, Ancestor! What did the last part mean? What Mantle?"


    Honestly, I didn''t care about the Ancestor''s last words. I just wanted to hear her speak again. To be in her presence. The world felt so lonely and desolate without them. Like I would never again feel the warmth and joy of being at home.


    I was going to call out again, but the clearing was filled with silence one second, and the next, I could hardly hear myself think over the howls.


    My chest felt the pressure from the noise, and I thought I could detect a slight tremor in the ground.


    Stumbling back from the pedestal like I was struck in the chest, I looked around at the surrounding trees.


    I saw nothing moving at the tree line, but it meant little when I could hear them so clearly.


    The beastkin were here in the dozens, if not hundreds, and would find me soon enough, whether I saw them or not.


    Jumping past the pedestal and spinning around, I looked at the source of the cracking and creaking sound behind me.


    The silver lines scattered about on the Dawn Tree were splitting apart like two sides of a door.


    Taking slow, clumsy steps back, my gaze traced up the Dawn Tree. All across its surface, more and more of the hollows were opening.


    Inside the hollows were seven to eight-foot-tall figures holding weapons in their hands. Some held spears, other swords and shields, and more had bows. A few of the Guardians that were larger than the rest held hulking broad swords in their hands, the blades tip-down, hands clasped on the hilt in front of their chest.


    "The Guardians¡­" I whispered in awe.


    The creatures are made of living wood, which can heal from any damage in seconds. Legend even said that the best elf warriors would offer up their memories and will to the Dawn Trees so they could serve as her Guardians in death as well as life.


    Starting from the lowest alcove, the Guardians dropped the short distance to the ground before moving away from the tree, clearing the spot for the next Guardian to fall. They took multiple steps outward in unison before turning and walking around to the other side of the tree from me.


    As they walked forward, more Guardians dropped from the progressively higher alcoves, joining the other Guardians moving around the diameter of the large tree.


    The Guardians moved with a fluidity that I had only seen in the most seasoned and skilled individuals. There were no halting and slow movements as if they were externally controlled puppets. If I didn''t know better, I would say I was watching a century of knights.


    Growing in intensity, the howls reached a new peak as the Guardians made a line on the far side of the tree from me.


    Coming to my senses, I looked at the Guardians one more time with awe before I started to turn and shuffle in the opposite direction that they were headed, tears running down my face.


    Even as I watched the Guardians, I could see the bark of the Dawn Tree begin to lose its color. It was like pouring water into paint and watching the brightness wash away. The Dawn Tree''s color got to the point that, while it would look normal on any other tree, compared to what I first saw and felt when entering the clearing, it was lifeless. And looking at it hurt something deep inside of me.


    Unable to continue to look at the dying Dawn Tree anymore, even with the amazing sight of the Guardians in the background, I completed my turn and picked up the pace.


    At first, as I ran away from the tree''s cover, I was concerned I would be spotted. But that concern quickly vanished and was replaced by another.


    I like my eyes. Seeing was great! I would rather give up an arm than an eye, but that was just me.


    The golden leaves that hung overhead like a shifting golden sky did not like my eyes. Or me, for that matter, the little bastards.


    The once golden leaves turned a dull bronze and began to fall. One or two wouldn''t be that bad, like walking down a tree-strewn path in autumn. But all of the leaves started to fall as their branch died, and they were way sharper than a leaf had a right to be.


    They were mini fucking knives.


    As I ran forward, I had to use a small portion of my mental powers to create a shield for my eyes. Doing more would take more mental energy than I could spend


    Running through the leaves was like moving through buckets of broken glass. Luckily, my shoes were strong enough to protect my feet. Otherwise, I wouldn''t be able to move.


    If I could hardly see a foot in front of my face, there was no way that anything else could see me. Putting my head down with that in mind, I pushed myself forward as fast as possible.


    Getting out of the clearing unnoticed was best.


    "Oww! Dawn Tree, take you!" I grunted in pain at the stupid falling leaf that slashed down the bridge of my nose, then felt a little guilty for saying the words as I looked upwards toward the limbs of the Dawn Tree above me. I couldn''t see them, but it was little comfort.


    The leaves hitting me were not like typical leaves. I mean, doubt they are abnormal for a Dawn Tree, but why are they so fucking sharp! I grumbled to myself.


    With a mental sigh, I used more of my power, creating a layer of force around my upper body. My arms, collar, and head were crisscrossed with multiple minor cuts.


    Every time one of the leaves fell just right to spear into my shield, I felt a minor strain on my reserves and willpower. It wasn''t that often that a leaf would fall onto me point first or slash across my body lengthwise like a somewhat sharp knife, but with me dealing with literally hundreds of leaves every second, it was happening enough to add quite the strain.


    A strain that was adding itself to my already worn-out mind and pushing me to my limit.


    Making my way to the pedestal took a lot of will.


    Even with most of my mental energy intact, if I was pushed to the point that I lacked the will to lift my arm, what did reserves matter?


    Step after step, the strain of constantly deflecting the small attacks mounted. It wasn''t really the attacks. Handling those was easy.


    It was the constant remolding and reinforcing of the force shroud with my will so it could block the next leaf. And the next and next. One, two, ten, fifty times a second. It was nearly overwhelming.


    Then, all of a sudden, the pressure stopped. And there was nothing to block.


    The leaves were gone, and I was less than fifty feet from the edge of the tree line. I made it! I thought to myself.


    An eagle''s cry sounded above and behind me.


    Sighing, I looked up and back. I was not surprised to see the eagle beastkin making the racket. His cry was kind of a dead giveaway. And based on my experience, he was the type of person to make a lot of noise.


    What I did not expect, and caused my eyes to widen in alarm, was the beastkin already in mid-dive, headed right for me.


    He was already swooping under the dead and dried-out branches of the Dawn Tree, streaking across the distance between us. Ignoring the slight twinge in my heart the sight caused, I focused on the beastkin.


    The wings on the beastkin''s back were pulled tight, and his eyes were squinted while he dove at me.


    I also saw smaller feathers covering his body, though I could still distinguish his human chest and waist beneath them. It wasn''t hard to see it, either. Not that I wanted to check his figure out or anything.


    Apparently, the eagle thought that tight leather pants and some straps making up a leather chest harness were all the clothing he needed. That and some useless trinkets dangling off his belt.


    The bizarre part was his face. And arms. I could easily describe him as human. I didn''t even have to see him in a dark room and squint.


    His jawline was sharp, and his nose was a bit pointed, but there were no abnormal features. Even his eyes were a normal green.


    I was expecting him to have a beak. At least, that''s what I have read about most bird beasts in the legion reports.


    And the hawk that chased me through the mountains didn''t even have arms. Though his head was also mostly human now that I thought about it.


    A slightly taller than an average human body and a normal face, the beastkin looked like a human falling out of the sky if I ignored the outstretched wings.


    Not that I wanted to talk to him or anything. Because one thing his face was not, was friendly. It was twisted into a rictus of rage and scorn. And burning in his eyes was the desire to kill.


    I had seen the desire to kill many times on the faces of humans, beastkin, and elves. Didn''t matter which species we were talking about; I knew when someone wanted to kill me.


    And this guy was giving off all the signs.


    There was only one way out of this.


    Turning forward, I adjusted my belt, then raced ahead.


    Giving my all to running forward, the ground passed beneath me step by step in a blur, but I was paying little attention to where I was going. My running was a minor concern, as most of my attention was focused on my hea¡ª


    Now! I mentally screamed.


    I let my feet slide out from under me on the dirt while reaching for the blade at my waist. In one fluid motion, I pulled my sword out of its scabbard with my right hand and tossed it into the air.


    At the same time, I sent out a mental tendril, grabbed onto the back of my harness, and yanked myself down and backward as a second tendril grabbed hold of my sword, catching it in the air.


    As the eagle beastkin passed over my head, he stabbed his dual short spears into where my back had just been. He tried to slash his spears at me as he flared his wings, but his attacks came nowhere close to landing.


    I smirked as the beastkin''s head turned, tracking me with his eyes even as his attack missed.


    Flicking my wrist downward along with my mind, I sent my blade spinning down, slashing into the base of the beastkin''s right wing.


    "Caaaw!" Cried the beastkin in rage and pain as his outstretched right wing collapsed when my blade caught in its flesh, tearing it free from my tendril''s grip.


    I might have lost my weapon, but at least his attempt to turn his diving attack into an upward swoop into the sky ended in a wild flailing toward the ground. At this point, the weapon only slowed me down as I tried to escape.


    The beastkin started tumbling across the bare dirt ground in a spray of dirt and blood.


    I didn''t even give the beastkin a second glance as I jumped to my feet and started running for the forest.


    "Ahh! Fuck!" I shouted as I stumbled to the side after only a few steps toward the forest.


    The spear thrown at me missed hitting me in the center of my back, which was great. But now my left arm has a large splinter sticking out of it. You can call a spear a splinter when it''s in your body¡­ right?

 Chapter 6

    Excerpt from The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    The display of power was like standing before a god.


    Many among us fell to their knees and started worshiping on the spot. No one ¡ª not even those on the ground ¡ª could say whether it was out of fear or awe.


    While their power imprinted our own mortality upon our souls, it was their appearances that enraptured us. The elves'' beauty put every human to shame. If I ever look upon a god, they would be the baseline of what I expect.


    And the king ¡ª for there was no way he could be perceived as anything other than their king ¡ª carried a weight of authority around him like a shroud.


    If one were to step out of his presence and compare his painting to any other elf, one would be pressed to say which was more beautiful. Because no painting, no matter the painter''s skill, could capture what was beyond the physical. Everything about the king while in his company was more.


    His presence was overwhelming.


    Looking upon Areekail, we all felt dirty and inferior.


    Because we were.


    Nothing can deny that fact.


    You may not believe me. I can only imagine what we have become, but we came from a land where our only strengths came from our bodies and cleverness. And we ¡ª the first generation ¡ª are still limited in such ways.


    Whatever abilities you ¡ª our descendants ¡ª have developed, that fact has not changed. Our potential is limited to what we can conceive. Imagine.


    It is a fact I have seen increasingly suppressed, ignored, and forgotten as I grow older.


    Try as I might, those so-called scholars and nobles ignore the facts I shove right in their faces, blinded by their power.


    They cannot believe that we are not the strongest creatures. That we were not the strongest and were given power.


    That the elves are not as weak as they might appear.


    We did not choose our fate, and you ¡ª our descendants ¡ª will have to pay the price for our survival. And your stolen ¡ª or is it given? ¡ª power.


    **********


    Yes, you can call it a splinter. If someone ends up with a spear in their arm, they have the right to call it whatever they damn well want. I think it''s a splinter, and if anyone else wants to challenge me on the subject, let''s see them get a spear in the arm and say something then.


    Stumbling to the side, I turned my body sideways so that my left arm and the spear sticking through it acted like a legion shield as I turned my head in the direction the short spear was thrown from.


    I knew it wasn''t actually any protection, but I was a smaller target. And I might be able to make the splinter do something useful. Some pain was better than death, after all.


    Quickly scanning the ground to ensure no one was charging me, I was unsurprised to find anything but dirt¡­What?


    Taking another moment, I scanned the ground again, just to make sure I was not seeing things. Or, more accurately, seeing nothing where there should be tens of thousands of leaves.


    Where the fuck are the leaves? And the grass? Ahh! Bastard! Can''t I have a moment to myself? I was drawn out of my thoughts by a second spear flying at me, and I easily hopped to the side, dodging it. These spears really weren''t meant to be thrown, and it was probably more luck than skill that I was hit by the first one at all.


    Looking up with a cocky smile, I twisted to the side, presenting a smaller profile. My smile became a grimace as the spear shaft bobbed, tugging on my flesh. I didn''t have time to check, but I would guess the spear stabbed through the outer layer of my arm. And if I kept bouncing around, the torquing of the spear would rip off the top of my skin flap. But that was a problem for future Green to worry about.


    When I looked up, I wasn''t surprised to see three brown and white beastkins hovering in the air twenty or so feet away. Quickly flicking my eyes to the side at some motion, I saw two others gliding to a stop, where the eagle finally finished his landing in a cloud of dust.


    My eyes slipped past the birdkin, and I took in the Dawn Tree. It was still dying, growing grayer and grayer as it shriveled into a husk.


    It still towered hundreds of feet in the air, but it was more like a dead stick thrust into the ground rather than a bastion of life reigning over the forest. Its limbs were spears sticking out to the sides, looking like nothing had ever grown on them.


    The tears I was barely holding back moistened my eyes before dripping down my cheeks as I saw what was happening a hundred feet past the Dawn Tree. The Guardians were dying.


    Like the Dawn Tree, they were shrinking, becoming brittle and slow. It was like spending weeks and months salting the ground and watching the trees and plants shrivel as the water was sucked from their bodies. Their once graceful movements were becoming sluggish and halting.


    As I watched, different sections of armor that made up the Guardians'' knight-like appearances broke and fell away, revealing softer areas of wood underneath that were already flaking into the air before they were ever struck.


    Not that the beastkins being blocked by the Guardians needed to brake the armor anymore. Blows that they should have shrugged off with little more than a chip in their bark-armor sent cracks over and through their bodies. Crevices that would not heal and only grew more prominent as more and more blows rained down on them.


    Already, I could make out Guardians on the ground that had cracked in half from some blow.


    Rage boiled inside me, and my skin tingled as adrenaline flooded my body. My heart beat faster and louder in my ears until it was all I could hear.


    I didn''t want to hear. It was bad enough that I had to see mythical figures be destroyed as I stood helpless to stop it. Why would I want to add sound to the horror?


    But running at the beastkins in a mindless rage would only get me killed, so I pushed down my emotions. It was a surprisingly easy task, all of my feelings quickly vanishing to the back of my mind.


    Taking a few stumbling steps back, I used my good hand to wipe my eyes clear as I turned my head up to the hovering figures.


    A small shiver of shock ran through me as I inspected the trio. They had arms.


    The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.


    Kind of.


    It was weird enough to see the eagle with arms, but all of them? That just wasn''t normal, but that much was already obvious.


    Stories of seeing a bird beastkin with wings and stubby little child''s arms would have gotten around. Those types of sightings weren''t just ignored. Who could stop themselves from talking of the grotesquely small arms on an adult''s body? And the arms looked like they were little more than skin and bone. It was like they were still growing or something.


    Despite the size of their arms, they must have a surprising amount of strength. I knew that for the simple reason that I felt a jolt of pain every time I moved my left arm. It wasn''t like the beastkins were holding the short spears with their feet.


    The two holding one spear tilted their wings, causing them to fall forward out of their hover and into a dive. The two circled around to the sides as they dropped down to five feet above the ground, the spears clenched in their midget''s arms, leading their path.


    Quickly gathering my mental energy, I released a pulse as my eyes darted around, searching for something that would spark a plan to survive this. As the information flooded my mind, I knew what to do.


    Taking a breath to calm my heart, I lowered myself into a crouch and turned my body to the right so my chest was facing a beastkin. At the same time, I kept looking at the birdkin that was slowly drifting higher into the air while keeping the one swooping at my back in the corner of my eye. I wanted to keep all of them within my vision for as long as possible.


    When the two beastkin approaching me from the front and back were twenty feet out, the one still hovering in the air gave one large flap shooting it five feet farther up. Then, it raised both arms over its shoulders and whipped them forward, releasing the two spears at me.


    The spears might not have been the best for throwing, but they were still good enough to kill me if they hit. I waited one moment, and then another as the spears shot for my chest. The two birdkins on the side increased their speed by flapping harder and faster.


    My breathing picked up as the fear and anticipation of pain built inside me. Come on, come on¡­ I thought before I felt a spark of relief followed by a flood of anxiety. Blood and ashes, this is gonna hurt, I mentally sighed.


    The moment I formed my plan, I created three telekinetic mental strands, one of which I stretched out behind me, sweeping it back and forth just above the ground. I knew the shaft of the second-thrown spear was poking into the air behind me, but it was one thing to know it and another to find it with a tendril. Wrapping the strand around and down the spear, I wiggled the spear stuck in the ground, making sure it was only loosely lodged in the soil.


    When I felt the time to counterattack was right, I ripped the short spear from the ground and whipped it at the beastkin, swooping at me from my back.


    My second tendril was carefully wrapped around the base of the spear tip and down the shaft sticking out of my arm. My body tensed in anticipation before I dragged the spear through the wound, driving the blood-stained spear toward the birdkin at my front.


    "Aargh!" I screamed in pain, and my vision flashed white and began to tunnel as I struggled to stay conscious and focus on my enemies.


    With a grunt of effort, I leaped into the air ¡ª adding to my momentum by pulling up on my harness with the third mental strand ¡ª while my free hand scrambled at my waist. Pulling up on a leather strap, I reached inside the hard leather container and pulled out a clump of cloth by a knot, slapping it on the wound on my upper arm.


    I saw the thrown spears pass below my feet and heard the thunk as they buried themselves into the ground.


    The two birds coming in at me from the sides tried to swerve around the spears, but the one to my chest reacted too late to dodge, and the spear buried itself between his neck and shoulder. The other beastkin swerved in front of me, avoiding my attack, but I used my mental strand to continue the curve of the spear''s trajectory, and as it came into my sight, I propelled the spear into the beastkin''s side. With a twist of the spear''s shaft from my tendril, I threw the beastkin into the ground.


    As I fell, I reshaped one of my tendrils from the diameter of two fingers to little more than a thread. I shoved the end of the tendril into the hole at the base of the knot before worming the tendril to the end of the bandage, splitting the tendril at the last portion.


    By the time my feet hit the ground, I had tightly wrapped the bandage around the new skin loop on my arm and tied it off. Half turning around, I saw one spear lodged into the soil a few feet from me and the other lying on the ground a couple yards past it.


    Looking back at the last flying beastkin targeting me, my eyes widened as I saw two more quickly approaching shadows from past the line of trees. I doubted they would be the last.


    It was time to run.


    Turning, I started sprinting as fast as I could, groaning with every step as it felt like a knife was being driven into my arm. I had a pounding headache as my willpower and mental energy were being stretched far past my normal limits. Ignoring the twinge of pain, I scooped up the spear that wasn''t stuck in the ground as I passed it.


    Head on a swivel, I tracked the two armed flying beastkins. The other would be a problem soon, but right now, he was still without a weapon, so I put him out of my mind.


    Turning my head forward, I focused on the tree line before glancing over my shoulder at the beastkin again.


    With every step, I drew closer to the tree line, but I was still dozens of feet from safety. And the stupid flying assholes were approaching me far faster than I was moving. I would never make it if things stayed the same. All the assholes had to do was slow me down enough for their kin to catch up.


    Pulling all but the last few drops of mental energy from my core, which wasn''t much, I immediately felt a hollowness inside my head, like the gnawing hunger a starving person has in their gut.


    My control only slightly wavered as a spike of pain was driven into my head as I reshaped my tendrils with my mental energy and willpower. However, because of my lack of mental energy, my tendrils were reshaped solely by my willpower. A resource I was running dangerously low on if the numbness spreading over my body was any indication.


    A feat that would typically take a second and be done with as little concentration as taking a step caused a cold sweat to break out on my brow and my head to throb with my heart. I didn''t even extend the tendrils out to ten feet, stopping at what was more like seven.


    But I had done it. The three strands were evenly spaced around me in thirds, stretched out along the ground. I had shaped and angled them to look like windmill blades before gently pushing them into the bare soil.


    Grunting of effort, I started rotating the tendrils around me.


    Within a second, dust was flying up into the air as I scraped off the top layer of the earth, obscuring my vision and everyone else''s.


    As soon as I thought the dust was thick enough, I slightly changed the angle I was running. I needed to get off the last line the beastkin saw me on and hope I was lucky enough they wouldn''t find me.


    I had no doubt that the beastkin would dive through the cloud of dust or throw a spear. It was up to fate now.


    Either they would happen to dive into my personal dust storm and hit me, or they wouldn''t.


    There was also the possibility that I would look like a total asshole and get turned around as I ran and end up circling back to the dying Dawn Tree. But I trusted my ability to run in a straight line even through a dust storm.


    At least, I believed I could do it for a little while. Hoped really.


    Not that I had much choice in the matter. I was being stretched to the limit and couldn''t do any more than I was.


    The dust swirled as a dark shape dove through the storm, following on the heels of the first, a second shape I could not make out passed through the dust.


    My feet thumped into the ground with every step, punctuated by a jab of pain, spreading the burning claws reaching into my chest and down my arm, causing my breathing to hitch.


    ¡°Pffft¡ª Arghh!" I spluttered, trying to spit out the dirt I had licked up from my lips. I had tried to moisten my lips and instantly regretted it. I wasn''t surprised or anything, as I could feel dirt gathering on every droplet of sweat covering my face and arms. It was gross and annoying.


    I might have lived most of my life in a forest, but that didn''t mean I liked being covered in dirt.


    I hated every step I struggled to take, but I kept going.


    The Dawn Tree died because of me, and I would not die so easily to make light of its sacrifice. And dying, in general, was not appealing.


    The shadows of darkness flickering through the cloud of dust came several more times as I ran. But I kept running.


    I would pick up and slow down the speed of my dust maker, trying to alter its shape to hide the center, but that was it.


    ¡°Ahh¡ª!" I screamed as I stumbled to a stop before I began taking staggering steps to keep moving. I had to enter the forest. I was so close.


    I put so much will into keeping the mental casting spinning and digging into the ground that I didn''t prepare to theoretically hit a hard object. Like, say ¡ª only for example ¡ª one of the trees I was running towards.


    I only knew two things in that moment. First, the mental casting shattered, causing a backlash to hit my mind like a club making the world spin. Second, anyone who thought I was a dumbass because I didn''t prepare for hitting the trees I was running toward would be a dumbass.


    I didn''t hit a tree.


    I hit a rock.


    Totally different.


    It was leaning against a tree, and it was the same result, but anyone who might have thought I would hit a tree was wrong, and they know it.


    The dust began to settle even as I walked past the first slightly blurry tree and let out a sigh that mostly held relief. Mostly because I wasn''t entirely sure it was only the dust making the tree blurry.


    I made it to the forest.


    "Caaaaw!" screamed an angry bird off in the distance.


    "Aww~, come on¡­ Give me a fucking break¡­" I groaned.

 Chapter 7

    Excerpt from The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    The elves quickly made it clear to us that while they had powers we could not comprehend, they were not ¡ª and never would be ¡ª gods.


    Many doubted their words no matter how many times they heard them. And because of that, over our first decade in this world, it was not uncommon to enter a house''s back room and find a shrine built to High King Areekail or some of the other Elvan Lords.


    Some even tried to erect temples around our new city, though the elves would not let them stand, always claiming to be unworthy.


    It should be understood they built the center and walls of Olimpia within a single day and night, pulling the stone from the very earth. Structures that were little more than an afterthought were comparable to Rome, the greatest city of our old world. Proving once again how great the elves were compared to us.


    Though the camp followers and legions combined numbers were barely enough to fill a small town, there was a problem we could not solve.


    Even with over 2,500 legionaries dying in the short battle, there were still far from enough women in the camp followers for the other three thousand still alive to find a spouse. The ratio of men to women at the time was about three to one.


    As such, it was to be expected that some of the two races would begin to pair off.


    The result was to be expected if surprising. For the elves told us that while we appeared similar, it was unlikely we could produce mixed offspring.


    Despite that, within the first year, the first mixed-bloods were born.


    The differences between pure-blooded Romans and the half-elves were immediately apparent.


    Their ears were four inches long and tapered upwards and back to a point. Their features were sharper and more refined. And most of all, a mixed-blooded infant could destroy a room and everything in it with its mind as it screamed for attention.


    **********


    Even as the eagle''s cry faded, I mentally marked a tree and started walking toward it. I felt quite a bit of urgency and wanted to speed up to a jog and maybe even get up to a run, but I could hardly get my feet into a shuffle.


    It wasn''t that I was tired. I had been this tired before ¡ª and hoped to live to be this tired again ¡ª and could still move with more grace than I was showing now.


    What I could not manage, what was so far beyond my ability to manage, I might as well try to reach up to the sun and bring it to the ground, was keeping my eyes locked on the stupid tree I mentally marked. Hmm, which one was it¡­ Ah! That one.


    There was no way to deny it. The dust was not making the trees blurry. At least it was not just the dust. Really, the dust was probably only a tiny part of the equation.


    Everything I looked at was barely coming into focus. It took more effort and longer than I would have liked, and even then, at the edges, it was blurry. And if I tried to focus my eyes too hard, a spike of pain would be driven into my head. I also was pretty sure blood was running down my face from my nose. Maybe my ears, too.


    I reached up and wiped away some of the grime covering my cheek, and as I looked down at my hand, the grime was darker than what sweat and dust should be.


    Yep, probably bleeding from the ears.


    I was mostly confident.


    But again, could not really see without hurting myself, and I didn''t really want to push my eyes to see the extent of how fucked up I was.


    Umm¡­ Which tree was I heading towards again? Bloody crows¡­ I mentally sighed as I locked my eyes on the tree I was pretty sure I had picked before.


    It shouldn''t matter if I got a little lost following the Dawn Tree''s instructions. All I had to do was find a tree with a big hollow in its trunk by a cliff. Kind of hard to miss a big wall of dirt, even if one is blind.


    I just had to follow my line and not get turned around. And my tree was¡­ Shit!


    Sighing, I made my best guess and continued walking.


    What I was doing was simple.


    If you don''t know the area and don''t have landmarks to keep track of, pick two objects and walk a line between them. When you reach the object you''re walking to, find a third object in line with the first two and repeat the process as necessary.


    It''s not as easy as it sounds, as nothing ever really lines up exactly right. And depending on how thick the foliage is, it could be nearly impossible. But it works great if you practice enough and just have to go in a general direction.


    So long as you could see.


    Without that one key requirement, things got rather complicated.


    Taking my best guess at what was a tree out of the blurry mass of greens, browns, and shadows in front of me, I kept walking.


    I passed tree after tree as I walked over the loamy ground and crackling leaves and twigs of the forest. As I passed them, I could identify that they were, in fact, trees. Though, sometimes, the trees disguised themselves as bushes. The tricky bastards just didn''t want me to be right.


    My vision is getting worse by the minute¡­ I sighed reluctantly, acknowledging the fact. I knew what had happened.


    I had been overextending myself and became mentally exhausted. The final straw was the backlash of the ground scraper casting powered solely by my willpower shattering.


    While my condition was probably close to a moderate concussion, I should be fine given some time, even without a healer. But I knew I would hurt myself badly if I tried to use my mental powers again.


    The damage could be as simple as dropping unconscious when I extend a tendril, or I could have a stroke and lose some bodily function for the rest of my life. No way to tell how bad it would be, and no one had ever volunteered to join a scholarly study to find the correlation between those who overextended themselves and their impairments.


    I was at the tail end of what is commonly referred to as the haze. It''s where your body starts shutting out external stimuli. It stems from using so much willpower and mental energy that your mind can''t take it anymore.


    Your vision fading in and out was one of the most common signs that you were already well into the haze. And once it starts, there is no stopping it other than resting. It''s like severely pulling a muscle; your body makes sure you don''t use that part for a while.


    A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    I tried to pick up my pace because of the growing itch on the back of my neck, like someone sending a death stare at me. I was running out of time to escape.


    The swishing scrape of my feet brushing aside leaves, dirt, and twigs could be heard about once a second. It was the best I could manage.


    My surroundings blurred as I focused on walking forward, and time passed.


    I have no idea how much time it was, but it could not have been more than ten minutes.


    Then I turned around and looked up in shock as I heard a piercing noise.


    "Caaaw!" Cried out the shining golden eagle in the sky.


    I was still under the branches of the trees, and I was confident that he could not see me right now. The bird might eventually be able to find me with its sharp eyes, but there was a lot of forest he would have to search through.


    On my part, it would be hard to miss the eagle even without its annoying cry to make me look.


    He was floating in the sky like a burning sun, looking like a total prick. All I could see was a silhouette, but with the cry and the golden light, I knew who I was looking at.


    "How in the Ancestor is he shining like the sun¡­" I said, sighing in resignation. I wasn''t even surprised anymore.


    That would take effort, and effort was beyond me at the moment. Maybe later, I will look back on this and be amazed by all the absurdity I encountered during this mission.


    About to turn and continue walking, I was rooted in place with a shock so deep that it broke through my apathy of exhaustion.


    "You injure me, legionary?" Said the beastkin, his voice filled with derision on the last word. "You mock me and mine? You lead us on this chase and try to harm us with a dying relic of a lost age? You think you are strong? That is only because we have chosen to never press you. Your people cannot conceive of our strength. Well, I will show you the power of the Chosen!"


    With his words, a ball of light appeared above his figure and grew brighter and brighter until even his shadow was consumed by its radiance.


    And then a new sun, for the regular sun was still off to the west, fell to the earth, leaving a golden eagle flying in the air.


    For a moment, nothing happened. I thought that it might all be an illusion. That somehow the eagle beastkin was projecting what he wanted me to see like some of the nobles can do. Or my concussion was worse than I thought.


    Then the forest flashed a golden red, and I was thrown back as the loudest shockwave I had ever heard rolled over me.


    It felt like a wall of hot telekinetic force slapped me, and I rag-dolled.


    I was thrown back and rolled head over ass across the ground until I finally flopped to a stop with a thud. Not that I heard the thud, as my hearing wasn''t the best at the moment, but from what I felt, it must have been loud.


    Laying on the ground, looking up at the forest''s canopy, I tried to breathe.


    Whatever force hit me knocked the air out of my lungs. The tumbling across the ground didn''t help.


    Second after second passed, and my mouth worked at the air as nothing came out or went in.


    I need air! I have to breathe! I. Have. To. Breathe! As I thought the last word, I lifted my good arm and slammed my fist into my chest.


    Lurching up, I gasped in the sweetest breath of air that I could ever remember taking.


    Coughing, I looked around the blurry forest, licking my chapped lips, but only saw the few immediate bushes nearby.


    I had to reach deep into my memories for what I was feeling. It''s just not something I have experienced all that often.


    I felt¡­ sunburned. There was just no other way to describe the tight, hot, and dried-out feeling on my face and arms.


    And it was no wonder my face felt burned.


    Gone was the cool embrace of the forest.


    Every breath was like I was leaning over an open stove. And my breathing was being caught and hitched in my throat as the air was so hot I could feel it scorching my flesh. The damage was only getting worse as every moment it was building upon itself.


    Getting to my feet, I saw a forest on fire. Well, it was more like flickering blurs in the distance, but I was growing proficient at interpreting blurs.


    In one direction were the greens and browns of a rich, vibrant forest in the middle of spring. The other was an increasingly fiery red with hints of gold smoldering wasteland I didn''t want to be a part of.


    Staggering a few steps forward, I fell against a tree as a moment of weakness passed over me.


    When it passed, I pushed off the rough bark, making the obvious choice of turning and walking to my right. I no longer knew if it was the right direction, and I didn''t care. Behind me, the forest was quickly turning black from smoke, and in front of me was no fire.


    It was the perfect direction.


    My breathing quickly grew ragged as the heat in the air combined with the thick smoke. The combination scratched my throat and made me feel a persistent itching sting.


    Even when I wasn''t breathing ¡ª wheezing and coughing ¡ª I could tase the chard wood of the forest.


    The forest had become nearly as dark as night, except for the ominous flickers of the fires behind and around me.


    The crackling pop of burning wood filled my ears, but it could not drown out the primal screams of fear and pain of the forest animals. They ran blindly from the most ancient of terrors. That which all creatures of the land feared.


    Every creature in the area might be running away, but not all could escape. And a doubt that I would be counted among those who would be trapped took root in the back of my mind.


    I found a new source of strength fueled by fear welled up inside of me. My pace increased, and my shuffle could almost be counted as a jog. Even my sight got slightly better as the trees around me started to take on a little bit of sharpness again.


    Passing tree after tree, I constantly looked at my surroundings for where I should go. Where I could hide and find safety.


    I did not find a conveniently placed lake.


    Even with the moment of clarity and burst of energy, I knew I would never outrun the fire. Squirrels, rabbits, boars, and deer passed me at several times my speed.


    Passing between two trees placed closely together, I stopped, and despair filled me.


    I stood at the base of a loosely packed forty-plus-foot slope, with the occasional rock poking out of it. Though it was more like a cliff.


    On the bright side, I could see it was possible to make it up the slope thanks to the animals. But as I was now, I didn''t think I could make it in a practical time frame.


    Practical, as in staying between the gaps of the animals climbing the trails up the hill so they didn''t trample me or knock me off the path, causing me to tumble down the slope, forming a mini avalanche.


    I''m trapped¡­ And I''m going to die. I thought, despair washing over me as I looked down at the short spear I still held in my good hand, thinking if I should kill myself rather than burn.


    Coughing, I looked back at the slope, my eyes being drawn to the left. It was only natural to study the largest tree at the base of the sl¡­ Feck.


    Closing my eyes briefly, I mentally cursed myself. Then I opened them and started walking as I muttered, "By the Dawn Tree, I can''t even see a barn as I''m walking into it."


    A few animals bounded around me as I walked to the lone tree, but I made it there without difficulty.


    Walking around the large tree, I found it was eight feet around, and most of its insides were taken up by a large hollow.


    Leaning inside the wooden cavity, I immediately started looking and feeling around, brushing aside the few leaves. The surface of the cavity was smooth, except for a spot on the upper right of the mouth, where a crevasse broke apart the wood.


    Reaching up into the crevasse, I found that it went up for about a foot until there was a lump that took up half of the passage.


    Past the lump was nothing but a quickly narrowing end, and with the reliable source of the Dawn Tree telling me there was a latch somewhere in this tree, I started messing with the knob.


    Grabbing hold, I pulled down.


    Nothing happened for a second, then the wood slowly scraped down, and I heard a loud click from below.


    The floor in the tree started dropping away as a spiral wooden staircase became visible.


    I took a second to take in my escape, then threw a glance back towards the Dawn Tree past the increasingly burning forest.


    A pang went through my chest because I knew this was all my fault.


    Turning away from my shame, I walked down the stairs.


    Darkness quickly enveloped me as I moved one of my hands to the wall and carefully felt out the next step. It wasn''t long before a soft greenish-blue glow welcomed me from down below, and I was able to stop slowly feeling my way down the stairs.


    Which was lucky because I wasn''t sure how much longer I could keep standing. I was coming down hard from the adrenaline rush of imminent death.


    Finally, I went around the spiral stairwell one more time and entered a hallway lit with blue-green light.


    Searching around me, I did not take in much. I was looking for a way to close the passage.


    Even as I came down the stairs, I felt the cool air of the tunnel heating up. The fire was creeping closer.


    Seeing a lever sticking out of the wall next to the exit, I reached for it and took a step.


    The next thing I knew, I was looking up at the lever, my thoughts becoming cloudy, hoping it would lower on its own.


    Lifting my arm, I grasped at the air, trying to grab the increasingly blurry and distant handle.


    I couldn''t reach it, and getting up was a pipe dream.


    The air scorched my throat with every breath. Or maybe my throat was already so messed up that it just felt that way.


    It didn''t matter. If the air wasn''t scorching now, it would be soon.


    Rallying myself for one last push, I scraped together the last drops of mental energy in my mind. Guiding the energy through my body, I pushed it down my arm as I raised my hand, then sent the mental strand no more than a string''s width shooting from my finger to wrap around the wooden lever.


    "Ahh!" I screamed as a spike of pain slammed into my head. My voice caught in my throat as my vision rapidly closed in from the edges.


    My arm fell, and I tried to help it on its way as a tendril was still trailing from my finger.


    I might have heard a click as the darkness of head trauma overcame me, but I didn''t care. I had done my best, and what would happen would happen.

 Chapter 8

    Excerpt from The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    The human parent of the half-bloods could not take care of their own child.


    It was a fact many screamed and raged at, but in the end, none could deny it.


    Many a parent could be found looking at their child with fear and shame.


    It was to be expected.


    The elves told us the children could feel emotions. And the strongest could even read minds. In the early days, the cries of children never stopped. How could they? The infants could feel their parent''s fear and self-loathing mutating into hatred.


    We mundanes can do very little to prevent our emotions from being felt. And the mental focus and force of will it takes to practice such a technique is not common, as it requires constant dedication and practice.


    I have reached some degree of achievement in that regard, as I can now block even an active attempt to read my mind, but I am the exception. An exception at the end of decades of effort. Most could not even take the first step on the path.


    More than the reading of minds ¡ª and the ruined relationships as the children grew in age ¡ª the real tragedy was the children who killed their parents.


    They were thrown into a corner where they broke their necks, or random nicknacks and furniture smashed into their chests and heads as they were tossed around a room.


    We of the first generation had no way to deal with such things.


    So again, we relied on the elves. Those who could control and teach our children in our stead.


    **********


    I wanted to sleep. To fall back into the dark embrace of oblivion and dreams.


    Sleep called me, but the distant throbbing pain pulling me to wakefulness was unyielding. Even as I yearned to sink deeper into slumber, I could feel myself leaving its embrace.


    I could feel something was nagging at me. An annoyance was scratching at my mind until the only choice was to open my eyes. Even then, I still fought to rejoin the darkness.


    As I gradually became more aware of my surroundings, I picked out what was bothering me.


    My body felt like it was burning, though I could ignore that. What really got to me was the inconsistent hitching wheezing interspersed by blessed silence.


    "Eehhh~. Haaa~." The noise was annoying and sounded like someone was dying as they struggled to take a breath.


    Opening my eyes, I was surprised that they only opened to a hazy slit before I couldn''t widen them further.


    I started scrunching up my face and wiggling my eyebrows around as I strained to pull my eyelids apart. Nothing happened.


    Finally, I had to accept that I was not getting my eyes open without using another part of my body. Which was a real problem because everything hurt. And the realization was one of the saddest moments of my life.


    Objectively, it might not be, but it sure felt that way right now.


    ¡°Argh¡­" I groaned as I lifted up my right arm. It was the one that hurt less. Huh, the wheezing hiss went away after I¡­ Oh. Shit.


    Rubbing at my eyes, I became more awake, letting me feel the full spectrum of pain ravaging me.


    The entire front of my body, from the tops of my feet to my scalp, felt like one giant bruise, with patches of bruises on my backside as well. My left arm ached. Pretty sure my right ankle was sprained at some point during my flight. My throat felt like¡­ calling it sunburned wouldn''t be wrong. Though, to be more accurate, my throat was raw, and swallowing felt like flexing my stomach while having a thousand half-healed cuts in it. And as I opened my eyes, it felt like two knives were shoved through them and into my head.


    "Ahh!" I screamed, covering my eyes from the blue-green light with my hands and clamping my eyelids shut. "By the Ancestor, that hurt!"


    Gradually, I opened my eyes and pulled back my hands slightly, slowly revealing them to the constant dull light all around me.


    My eyes still hurt, and if I moved them around too much, I would get dizzy and feel a sharp jab of pain, but I could bear it.


    Letting my arms fall to my side, I took in the ceiling of the room I was in. Or I assumed I was, but I couldn''t be sure with everything being one blur.


    I frowned in mild discomfort as my vision slowly resolved the different shades and blobs. There was no piercing pain in my eyes like when I was running through the forest, just a dull one. Which was probably the best I could ask for, given the situation.


    The ceiling was covered in a dense carpet of blue-green glowing moss.


    It was something I had never seen, not that I was an expert on tunnels and the deep reaches of the world. It was interesting, though.


    Flopping my head to my right, I could see that the walls were also covered in the glowing moss, if to a lesser degree.


    I couldn''t even determine if the wall was made of stone or dirt underneath the moss, though I would assume stone because that was what was underneath the thick dust I was lying on.


    Trying to get up, I grunted in effort, only to fall back to the ground in a coughing fit that made my ribs loudly complain.


    Discarding the idea of standing up, I came up with a new idea.


    Slowly scooting across the ground, I got within arm''s reach of the glowing moss.


    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.


    Until this point in my life, I was unaware of a fact about myself. I had never encountered the situation before, so it was reasonable. And in my opinion, it was a logical mistrust.


    I did not trust mysterious glowing plants. I know it was quite a flaw, but it is something I can''t help.


    Squinting my eyes at the moss, I hesitantly reached out before swatting the mass.


    At the impact of my hand, a cloud of tiny specks was flung into the air.


    I watched the specks with mistrust for long moments until they faded. Searching the air for several more seconds, I saw that the specks were still there. It was just they had stopped glowing.


    For whatever reason, I was fine with the specks so long as they didn''t glow.


    Carefully, I smacked the moss another time, going through the same process of watching the moss and floating specks until they dimmed. It was a rather beautiful sight.


    Shrugging, I started flailing my hand at the moss wall, creating large clouds of floating specks. During my movements, I accidentally tore off a section of moss, revealing a stone wall. I was right!


    Eventually, the moss I was hitting stopped sending out specks, and the area of the glowing moss dimmed before it completely stopped.


    My annoying wheezing breaths turned into multiple coughing and hacking fits as I breathed in the floating¡­ whatever the specks were.


    Once the glowing was gone, I turned and slowly lifted up my body, leaning back against the moss. It was surprisingly comfortable.


    As I sat up, I felt my breathing become easier, but it might have all been in my head. It could have been less annoying now that I wasn''t lying on the ground and could look around properly.


    To my left was an archway with a wall blocking it off a foot in. To the side of the arch was a lever I vaguely remembered pulling down. On the stone ground below the lever and next to my feet was what was once a large pool of dark liquid.


    I say once a liquid because the dust on the ground absorbed everything, making a dark slurry. In the light, it could have been anything. Or, if I was being honest, any liquid that could come out of my body, as I didn''t see any other sources of liquid down here.


    My flailing around cleared off some stone and smeared a clump of slurry across a patch of semi-cleared ground.


    Even with the blue-green light, I thought I could make out a red tint, but that could have been me seeing what I expected.


    I did find lines of dried and crusted blood coming from my nose and ears. It wasn''t that big of a clue, but it was enough for me to make a guess that blood was smeared across the ground. I could be wrong, though. You never knew.


    Fumbling with the pouches on my belt, I opened some of them and started eating the jerky and cheese I pulled out, along with a few swallows from my canteen. It was the most painful meal I had ever eaten, but I needed the fuel.


    Once I was done eating, I looked down the hallway to the right.


    I had looked in that direction before, and it was the same then as it was now. A long hallway that receded into the distance, lined on three sides by the blue-green moss.


    Putting my canteen away and collecting my spear and the four arrows I had left ¡ª I lost my bow and most of my arrows in one of my tumbles ¡ª I mentally gathered myself to stand.


    With many groans and curses, I made it to my feet.


    Limping over to the archway, I gave the lever a look, then put my hand against the door. Or gate. It was one of them.


    I came through something, after all.


    With my hand pressed against the wooden wall, I felt a slight warmth coming off it.


    There was a forest fire raging above, but for it to have eaten away at the tree to the point it was heating up the wood down here didn''t seem normal. But then again, what would I know about stairwell trees?


    The fire might even make it down here, filling the tunnel with smoke. I thought in concern.


    It was only a brief moment. If the fire was going to make it down here, it probably would have already. Though it felt like minutes, I had to have been asleep for over half a day.


    Turning from the archway, I started limping down the long hallway.


    At first, I kept one hand on the wall as my movements were stiff, and my balance wasn''t great.


    By the time I lost sight of the archway in the green-blue haze of the tunnel, all that signified the way I was going and where I came from was the line of moss I was tearing off the wall trailing out behind me. I had loosened up the bruises and sprains covering my body, letting me pick up the pace. Not that I could go at anything called fast.


    I was moving at what could definitely be called a walk. But less generous people might call it a stroll. Like I was trying to spend more time in this tunnel.


    The mysterious watcher would also have to comment on how it sounded like something was rattling around in my chest, and I might want to spend a moment to catch my breath.


    Which would be impossible. Even standing still, I could not get what felt like a full breath of air. All I could do was move forward, hoping I didn''t collapse from dizziness.


    After what felt like hours, but was probably one¡­ though it might be three ¡ª I really couldn''t tell or care at this point ¡ª I spotted what I thought was another arch in the distance.


    I was right. Stopping next to the lever, I studied it and the archway for a moment before shrugging, limping a step forward, and pulling the lever.


    There was a click, and the wall began lowering in silence. Behind the lowering section was another wall that was also sinking, which revealed another section after a moment. The pattern repeated, every piece lowering in a cascade. Each section formed a step six inches high until there was a spiral staircase leading up, filling the archway.


    Looking at the staircase in resignation, I started plodding up the stairs while pressing my hand against the outside wall for support.


    The glow of the moss disappeared as I went up and around the tunnel, and for a while, I climbed up the stairs in darkness.


    Suddenly, as I turned around the constant corner, I saw the first wisps of sunlight breaking through the darkness.


    Stopping mid-step, I stood still for a few moments as my eyes adjusted. I could barely see the next step, but even with that little amount of light, my temples throbbed.


    Walking through the darkness up the stairwell wasn''t a trial for me. It was a blessing. For long, blessed minutes, I felt my eyes relax, and the constant tension they were under began to lessen.


    I didn''t realize how much the dim light of the tunnel was bothering me until it was no longer there.


    Bracing myself, I started slowly taking steps forward. I could feel the pressure and pricks of pain mount as the level of light increased.


    With my final few steps, I walked out of a hollow in a tree that looked strikingly similar to the tree I first entered.


    As I stepped out onto the brush-covered ground, I looked around the area. I was at the edge of a hillside again, but this one was fairly gentle and led up to the valley''s edge. This hill had significantly fewer trees than the rest of the valley, giving me a clear view of the sky.


    Looking at the top of the hill, I saw the sun was halfway over its edge. Pulling out a compass, I checked it, confirming the direction was west. The sun was setting.


    I was glad that I wouldn''t have to deal with the light much longer, but then again, it was getting dark, and I needed to make it back to camp.


    Sighing, I turned and started walking to the southeast. My path would take me along the valley and eventually over the far hill.


    Which would be a real danger with proper light, so the sun setting became a good thing.


    Leaning into the tree''s hollow, I looked around until I found a crevasse similar to the other. Feeling down it, I found another lump down the hole and messed around with it until I found I could push it up, closing off the stairwell.


    Taking one more look around, I started my way into the forest.


    As I made my way down the valley and to the far hill, I tried to make as little disturbance as I could, but compared to my best, it was like I wasn''t even trying.


    Anyone chasing me would only have to use half of their attention to follow my trail. Which could make them think it''s a false trail, I hopefully thought, but I was hardly ever that lucky.


    I could only hope that no one would notice.


    Eventually, I found a good spot to cross the eastern hill. Looking around, I found a comfortable-looking tree and leaned against it before sliding to the ground.


    There was still light at the top of the opposite hill, and with the sparse number of trees on its slope, I was more likely to be spotted now than if I waited half an hour for the night to fully settle in.


    Closing my eyes, I rubbed at my temples and tried to settle my stomach by taking deep, slow breaths.


    The pain in my head was well past the point that I was starting to get nauseous. All I wanted was to find a dark room and lie down for a few hours.


    Groaning into my hands, I said, "Ahh, fuck¡ª


    "Well, well," A cold, husky voice said into my ear as a cool blade pressed into my throat, "what do we have here?"

 Chapter 9

    Excerpt from The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    The elves taught the children well. More than we could have believed or hoped for.


    But the children could not stay with us until they gained partial control of their powers. It was just too dangerous.


    When the children came back at the age of 10, they were finally judged ready to reintegrate with us. And were quickly filled with contempt.


    It was not new. We all heard of the stories from the few parents who still visited their children regularly. Those who tried to accept their children despite their near insurmountable differences because of parental love.


    No amount of love could change the disdain for us, though. A disdain that was justified because they were better. They were stronger, faster, smarter, and had abilities we could only dream of.


    There was much to be scorned in their eyes as they looked upon us.


    From the moment the children returned, the difference between the families of those with the gifted and those without was as stark as light and day.


    Power ruled.


    That has always been, and always will be, the way of the world.


    How could we be given the ability to enhance our children in ways beyond our own potential and not grasp it with both hands?


    As such, we began breeding our children.


    We sought out which percentage of mixed blood would produce the desired results. To produce the most effective and talented children in the mental branches of Control, Telekinesis, and Telepathy.


    Every family of note was frantically searching for a reliable path to power.


    **********


    A moment passed, and I did nothing.


    The blade''s edge kissed my skin, and I could feel another line of blood begin making its way down my body.


    Mouth twitching in a smile, I slowly raised my hand, taking a bite of jerky and chewing on the chunk as I ignored the bitch behind me.


    "Don''t think I won''t kill you, elf." The husky voice said with a hint of anger in it now.


    "You would have already if you could, Celeste." I said to her hoarsely, "Who''s with you?"


    She said nothing, and I continued to eat. I could feel her growing anger and frustration at my indifference and her inability to kill me.


    Her knife pressed slightly deeper into my throat before pulling back out. The blade jiggled there for a second before another voice called out.


    "Put the knife down, Celeste. He is a scout, after all. We''ve lost so many over the past couple of days we can''t afford to lose another. No matter the¡­ quality." Said a man wrapped in a cloak who appeared leaning against a tree fifteen feet away. I could nearly feel the disdain when he practically sneered at the word quality. Quite a slip of the tongue for him.


    "Yes, milord." Said the once again cold, emotionless voice behind my ear, the dagger at my neck disappearing as suddenly as it appeared. A moment later, a woman with raven black hair, also wrapped in a cloak, stepped into my vision. As she walked away from me, her knee hit my left arm, causing me to let out a grunt of pain.


    She took up a position behind the man, the tiniest smile curling her lips as two men appeared to the sides five feet away.


    "What do you have to report, scout?" Asked the man with golden blond hair and a razor-sharp jawline lounging on the tree.


    He was the one in charge; there was no doubting that.


    "Hmm, pretty sure I don''t report to you," I said, smirking as Celeste''s hand flinched under her cloak, causing its surface to waver. "Go scout and come back with your own report, Vlore. Or ask your bitch to do it."


    Vlore stuck out his arm, stopping Celeste from walking forward. Her face was covered in red splotches as she clenched her jaw in anger, causing the veins on her neck to stand out.


    "Control your dog, Vlore, or we might lose this wonderful occasion to chat¡ª," I said, raising up my canteen in a mock toast as I tried to stifle the coughs wracking my body.


    "Didn''t you hear what I said before? Over half of the scouts are dead, and another quarter are assumed missing. How they are all disappearing, we don''t know, but you are one of the few out in the field to return in a day. The Legion needs information. This is not a time for politics and games."


    I studied Vlore as he stood there looking like the epitome of grace and nobility. His mask was perfect.


    "Easy thing for you to say. You don''t even have to try to spin this to your advantage. Let me guess; your squad is the only one without casualties." Vlore didn''t respond, but the twitch of a smile on his mouth was all I needed to know the answer.


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    ¡°¡­Not much to say, really," I finally said after making them wait long seconds as I chewed and swallowed my food. Vlore was right about one thing: I did have a duty to relay my information to the Legion. "but before that, got any food? I''m starving, and I''ve nearly run out." Duty didn''t mean I had to make it easy for them to take my information.


    A sack hit my chest hard enough to make me flinch. Not that it needed to be going that fast to hurt. The entire front side of my body was one giant bruise, after all.


    Celeste couldn''t know that, though. So she went for power to make sure it hurt. I swear the sack would have knocked me over if I wasn''t leaning against a tree.


    Gingerly I rubbed my chest before I started poking around in the bag picking out a piece of jerky.


    "We found the vanguard of a beastkin warband at least a valley northwest of here. I can''t really say how far away it is for certain. The vanguard numbered at least a thousand wolves. I also spotted at least a thousand flying beastkin off in the distance. The beastkin scouts were somehow able to sneak up on every member of our team by cloaking their minds, launching a nearly simultaneous attack. Only me and Markus survived." As I finished talking, I drank water to help soothe my throat before taking in the dead silence that greeted my words.


    Then the men to my right side spoke up in a murmur, "I''ll give my left nut if that''s true¡­ Are you really going to listen to these lies, sir?"


    "Yeah, are you going to listen to my lies, Vlore?" I said, shifting my gaze to Vlore after I glanced at his subordinate. "Or will you give me his left nut and tell him to shut up so I can finish? And don''t think I don''t feel your probe."


    I heard someone snort in disbelief, but I didn''t look away from Vlore''s gaze. I even let his probe further skim surface thoughts to act as proof of my words.


    It didn''t matter how powerful he was or how tired I was. I could still block him from feeling anything from me if I wished. It gave me a little jolt of pride and superiority as I recognized the acknowledgment flicker through his eyes.


    "You think you can¡ª


    "Shut up, Luke. Let him finish," Vlore said, cutting off his subordinate.


    Giving a slow nod to Vlore, I paused a second, pretending to gather my thoughts as I made them wait.


    ¡°¡­Where was I¡­ Ahh, yes! I remember. So, we spotted the vanguard and birds, then we split up. Markus enhanced his body and made a break for it, and I had to try to sneak away through the valley¡­"


    Looking around at the encroaching night, I sighed before continuing to talk, "Barely made it halfway across the valley before I got trapped in a natural bowl containing an ancient ruin. I had to injure a golden eagle beastkin following me. He had arms, by the way. And as I thought I got away into an escape tunnel at the back of the ruined fortress, the bastard blew up the forest."


    We sat in silence. But this time, uncertainty permeated the stillness, tinged with more than a hint of fear.


    "Sir," said the only one of Vlore''s men that hadn''t already spoken. They were all looking at Vlore, and while the single word didn''t sound like a question, it was. And everyone else in the small clearing was silently begging Vlore to tell them if what I was saying was the truth.


    "He does not think he''s lying," Vlore stated, and I closed my mind as he spoke. I really didn''t like someone skinning my surface thoughts. "That does not mean the eagle beastkin has attributed psi. We have never seen any signs of mental powers. To leap to such a level of skill so fast would be preposter¡ª


    "I never said it was mental energy. I didn''t feel any. One second, he shone like a second sun in the sky. The next, I was thrown to the ground by a blast of heated air, and the forest was burning. I can''t tell you what happened, only that it did. Which is my job."


    "He''s right," Vlore said, making his subordinates and me look at him in shock. Today is one for miracles! I thought in wonder, as I was sure such words had never left his mouth before.


    "Not about his claims about the beastkin''s potential psi powers, but our jobs." He said with a wave of his hand, "The tribunes need to know this information, and we are wasting time." Ah, that makes sense. He wants to be the one to report the information to the Centurion and get the credit.


    I watched Vlore turn his head, and his eyes must have skimmed the surrounding area. Whatever he looked at, I couldn''t tell. The night was already to the point that I could only tell where they were by the slightly darker splotches in the shadows.


    When I wasn''t injured, my vision was better than any human at night or day, but I still needed light to see. It didn''t help that it was a rather cloudy night, too. And even when the moon rose, it would only be a crescent moon, so there wouldn''t be much light.


    In short, it was a perfect time to skulk through the forest.


    "We have to get moving. You can make it back to camp alone, right Green?" I looked at Vlore, slowly raising my good hand and flipping him off.


    "Ughh! The disrespect!" Snarled Celeste as she stepped forward, flashing her knife in the fading light. "I''m gonna skin you alive, elf!"


    "Stop," Vlore said quietly, but it was in a tone and had enough will behind it to stop Celeste cold. "We''ll be questioned hard by the Centurion just because we left him behind. If we actually kill him, even I won''t get off without consequences. We have to give off the appearance of equality¡­ after all."


    "As you say, milord," Celeste said with a bow, her knife disappearing into her cloak. "You''re lucky, elf." She hissed at me before disappearing into the shadows.


    Within a breath, the others also disappeared into the forest, with not even so much as a wave of the hand to acknowledge my bleeding, bruised body lying against the tree.


    Reaching into the bottom of the pouch of jerky, I felt around until I found the piece I wanted, popped it into my mouth, and started to gnaw on it.


    Closing and tying the pouch to my belt, I got up with a grunt of pain and started walking up the hill.


    I was far less concerned about the beastkin than I was minutes ago.


    If there was one good thing about the kawrashit that Vlore is, it''s that he is always at the back edge of the scout line. When you see him, you know you''re safe.


    When he was at the front edge, it was when a superior was around, or there was nothing dangerous spotted for days in any direction.


    He really did seem to have an extra sense of where the safest spot was. Of all the many things Vlore was, he is a survivor, just like the other cockroaches.


    I still tried to leave as little of a trail as possible, but I was more interested in moving fast. My ragged breathing was enough to give away my position to anything close, so a slightly larger trail wasn''t a concern.


    As I topped the hill, I momentarily looked back down into the valley and then up and past the other tree-strewn hill.


    A breeze drifted past me for a moment, and I thought it brought a hint of fire and ash to my nose. My eyes snapped to the distant hill''s edge, and I swore I momentarily saw the red tint of a fire a couple valleys away, with a figure outlined against its glow, shadows twisting behind it.


    I couldn''t be sure, as my vision was still shit, and it had been more than a day. The fire probably would have already burned itself out if it hadn''t consumed the entire valley and kept spreading.


    Still, if what I had seen was any sign, the 15th Legion was in for some hard times.


    Turning away from the beastkins I knew were out there somewhere, I began to limp down the hill.


    I had a long way to go to make it back to the legion fort.

 Chapter 10

    Excerpt from The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    Decades passed, and the breeding of our children only grew in scope.


    Our population nearly doubled overnight as every man ¡ª and most women ¡ª of age tried to find an elf willing to bear them children.


    It was only natural.


    What parents want to intentionally handicap their child from birth? To face the growing discrimination against those who were, without a doubt, lesser.


    The parents of mundane children might as well chop off their children''s arms for how other kids would treat them.


    It was a sentiment that only grew as the years passed, and the portion of the population in Olimpia without mental powers continued to fall.


    It was quickly discovered what the difference between half-humans and full elves were.


    The mixed-bloods came out on top when flinging around raw telekinetic and telepathic powers.


    If too much elven blood was mixed in, the children would drift towards the elves'' specialty, that of control and willpower.


    But control took time to master, and developing willpower took a lifetime to build. Years upon decades spent studying, practicing, and honing skills.


    Having the natural raw power to overwhelm everything in your path was inherent. It takes little more skill than learning how to use it.


    Sure, someone with outstanding control of their mental powers could fight back against those with raw power, but it required a baseline of strength.


    A falling tree will not be stopped by a bush less than a tenth its size.


    So, the leading families made the easy choice. Logical even in their eyes. Why compete with a people who have a millennium of experience honing and developing their skills?


    The families bred for raw power.


    And the elves helped.


    **********


    Lifting my head, I blinked, trying to clear my vision. I had no idea where I was, but my body wasn''t throbbing with scorching lines of fire, so everything was looking up.


    My last clear memory was walking through the night as I tried to return to the Northern Fort. Then, in a moment of weakness, I smashed into a tree I meant to lean against for a small rest. As I lay on the ground, I decided to stay there for a while. It was a good place to close my eyes for a bit. Then¡­ nothing.


    As I searched my surroundings, I found myself lying on a cot with a blanket thrown over me. To my sides were men and women wearing blood-stained bandages lying in their own cots in a well-lit stone room. A room that looked awfully familiar.


    "Ahh, look who''s finally awake. Was wondering when you would finally get up."


    Head turning in the other direction, I looked for the voice. I found a middle-aged elf woman standing at the foot of my bed, looking down at me with a tired smile.


    I could see new and old spots of blood covering her white full-body apron. There was even a patch of blood streaked across her neck that she failed to entirely wipe off.


    "Elder," I said, trying to bow my head to the old elf while lying down. "It''s good to see you again."


    "Wish I could say the same," She said, stepping forward and gently pushing me down with one hand as I tried to sit up, "none of that now." She then pulled back the blanket covering my body, sitting on the side of my bed.


    "That is quite the painting you have created," Elder Bark said drily, her eyes clinically sweeping over my discolored chest before they locked onto the bandage wrapped around my left arm.


    She started unwrapping the bandage and probing my arm and chest with her fingers, releasing small pulses of mental energy into my body as she spoke, "Hmm, bruising might look bad, but it''s nearly healed¡­ Your ankle might be a bit stiff¡­ Arm will be stiff and might twinge in pain a bit if used too hard, but after a few days of rest, you''ll be fine¡­ Doesn''t seem to be any permanent mental damage."


    Finished with her inspection, her head turned, and she looked me in the eyes. The warmth of concern when I first saw her was replaced with anger and annoyance, and she smacked me on the side of the head.


    "Oww!" I grumbled, rubbing my ear.


    "Hush, Fool-boy. You''ll be fine so long as you don''t try to melt your brain again. And maybe a little pain will make you accept your limitations so I don''t have to tell your mother you died."


    I gave Bark my best smile in reply. Seeing the flash of irritation rear up in the depths of her green eyes, I rushed to plead, "I didn''t have a choice, Bark. We found a beastkin vanguard, and¡­ it was the largest one I''ve ever seen. At least a couple thousand." I looked around to see if anyone was paying attention to our conversation before leaning closer to ensure no one could hear, "There were birds too, Bark. Hundreds. And their scouts had some way of hiding their minds. Less than twenty feet away, and I couldn''t feel a thing until the moment they attacked¡­"


    My vision of Bark faded as I returned to the moment a cold hand ran down my spine. I should have died in the forest, just like the other scouts in my squad. And possible¡­ No. Blinking, I refocused on the medico.


    Bark''s eyes were wide as she leaned back, her face pale. She trusted my words, knowing I wouldn''t lie to her. Being a Medico, she couldn''t get caught up in the why or how of something happening. She had to accept what was. Then, decide what to do next. If she didn''t, people would die. So, her mind was going right to the implications of my words.


    I saw the same realization appear in her eyes that I came to while trapped in the moss tunnel. We were at the front lines of the largest Beast Tide in¡­ centuries? Decades for sure. And we weren''t ready.


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    We shared a moment of silence as we each had our own thoughts about the dark futures ahead.


    Then, there was a distant shout, and the moment was broken.


    Until we died, we had too much to do rather than wallow in what might be.


    Looking at Bark''s sometimes kind, wrinkled face, I asked the question that was in the back of my mind the moment I first saw her. "How did I get here? The last thing I remember was stumbling through the forest, trying to return to camp. Then I fell over and passed out."


    She snorted, squinting her eyes at me. I flinched back, sure that I would get hit for some unknown reason, but after a second of nothing happening, I lay back on the cot, smiling at her.


    "Haa~" Bark sighed, shaking her head in resignation as if she had lost some battle. "Can''t say how you got there, but a patrol of fish found you laying against the earthworks of their camp early in the morning yesterday."


    ¡°¡­Really?" I incredulously asked, getting a nod and shrug of the shoulders in reply. ¡°Well¡­ that''s strange¡­" I muttered, a frown appearing on my face.


    I was finally about to ask if she knew if Markus made it back when a trio of legionaries burst in frantically shouting. "Medico! Medico! We need a medico!" I glanced at the three, taking them all in within a second.


    The one on the left had a slash from his right shoulder to mid-chest. It was shallow enough that it was little more than a flesh wound.


    The middle one was unconscious, with blood dripping down her face from a slash in her hairline and a gut wound that looked somewhat serious. At least severe enough that she would probably die if it was left untreated for a week.


    And the one on the right was walking with a limp. He winced as they came to a stop, and he had to hold up his friend''s weight while they waited for someone to respond. His left leg was soaked in blood, leaving bloody footprints in his wake.


    "Blood Week?" I asked Bark, not really needing her to answer.


    ¡°Yeah¡­ The fish got their swords yesterday." She said, giving a long-suffering sigh while shaking her head in resignation. Getting up, she brushed at something at her waist before turning.


    It was a habit of hers. I had never seen anything close to lint on Bark''s clothes, and while spots of blood covered her, there wasn''t one where she was scrubbing.


    "Didn''t know we got a new crop of fish," I said, taking a new look at everyone around me. I knew something was wrong when I first saw them. Now, I knew what was bothering me.


    All of them were young, and everyone who was awake had a look of shame on their face. Some of the fish taking up a bed had what amounted to minor scratches that, in an actual battle, would be treated with stitches, if treated at all.


    Some of the tension left my body as I realized that the coming battle hadn''t started and this was just the fish hurting themselves. Typical fish¡­ I thought in relief.


    Laying back in my cot, I pulled the blanket back over my body and put my hands behind my head as I wiggled, getting comfortable.


    I deserved a break after everything that happened. And what better way to dodge everyone that would give me something to do than stay in the medical building I actually belong in.


    Vlore made it back. I would bet my life on that.


    He would relay everything of consequence I told him ¡ª calling it his own information ¡ª while alerting the legion to potential threats. Not that the tribunes would believe any one person''s report. Not with something so outlandish.


    Even if the Inquisition was around to delve into the reporter''s mind, they still would not take the report as a consecrated fact. They would assume someone implanted the memories.


    Really, if I had not lived through it all, I would not believe it either.


    There wouldn''t be time to rest in the near future, so I would get as much rest as possible while the getting was good.


    Closing my eyes, I planned on drifting off to sleep when a cold shiver ran down my spine.


    Freezing in place, I knew I had to run. My mind raced, creating a mental map of the monitoring ward from what I had just seen. I was lucky, as I was placed near the exit of the ward.


    It only took me a fraction of a moment, but I knew my path. It would only take me two and a half seconds at a full sprint, and I would be out of the building.


    My body tensed as the sweetest of voices dashed my hopes and dreams of rest. "Oh, Green, aren''t you going to Purge yourself?" The poisonously sweet voice called.


    Letting out a fake snore, I tried to convince everyone I was already asleep. But I knew it was already past the time a tactical retreat was possible.


    I should have remembered. It was a critical mistake on my part.


    The biggest taskmaster in the camp was in the ward with me.


    "I see. I see¡­" Said the too-sweet voice. "You must be so uncomfortable¡­"


    Eyes snapping open, I tried to throw off the blanket and get up, but it was too late.


    "Ahh!" I screamed as my cot lurched on its side, throwing me to the ground.


    "Sweety." Bark said, leaning over me with a kind, caring smile, "You need to be more careful getting out of bed."


    "Yep," I said, sucking back the air knocked out of my lungs from the fall. "Never been one to get out of bed without a spectacle if someone''s watching."


    "Well, since you are so enthusiastic about getting up, you can help me out around here while I keep an eye on you."


    ¡°¡­It would be my pleasure, Elder Bark¡­"


    "Such a sweet boy you are." She said, her smile never slipping off her face. "Little Emerald raised you so well."


    "Yeahh~," I said, sitting up and unwrapping myself from the blanket.


    "Make sure you clean up your mess," She said as she turned and walked away. Then, calling to the trio, "Over here, we have to go to the treatment tables."


    I looked around at the fish as I straightened the cot, but none of them would look me in the eye. It seemed the fish had already learned the golden rule. Never upset the medico. I didn''t even get the pretense of support or understanding from them, as they were still looking away.


    "Bunch of cowards," I grumbled under my breath as I straitened the blankets and pulled out the small trunk underneath it that held my gear.


    I only took out my sweat-soaked and blood-stained trousers, tunic, and belt, slipping them on, along with my boots. Standing up, I looked around.


    Bark and the three fish had disappeared.


    It was to be expected. The trio wasn''t supposed to come in here, as this section of the medico building was for monitoring and resting. I was sure their instructors would hear of their mistake, and they would pay for it later.


    Well, they would pay for it more. Bark wouldn''t give them the most loving care since they disturbed her moment of rest due to their ignorance.


    Walking to the far end of the building that Bark walked toward, I grabbed one of the plates of stew and bread on the food cart that was always in the monitoring ward and began scarfing it down as I walked. The rumbling in my stomach lessened as I ate.


    The healing performed on me wasn''t that bad ¡ª and far from the worst I had ever experienced ¡ª but I felt like I hadn''t eaten in two days. And that wasn''t just because I was asleep for one.


    Skilled Medicos might be able to get you back on your feet in minutes with their unique aspect of mental energy, but it takes a toll on the recipient''s body, usually in the form of needing lots of food. Eating more after a medicos healing was to be expected. The thing was, if someone is too weak, a medico trying to heal a patient will kill rather than heal.


    I was far from the point a healing would have killed me. It would take multiple severe wounds being healed simultaneously and pints of blood loss for it to be a risk. My brain melting wouldn''t count.


    So, all that I would have to deal with was hunger. Which wasn''t that bad. Who doesn''t like to eat when starving? It makes the food taste better.


    The only downside was I was on the clock with Bark. She wasn''t known for waiting. Luckily, the food wasn''t that warm ¡ª cold, really ¡ª so I was able to force it down by the time I reached the end of the rows of cots.


    Slipping past the dual free-swinging doors, I whipped my mouth as I saw three medicos and their assistants treating a line of fish sporting various sword-related injuries.


    It always seemed that no matter how much training a fish received with a wooden sword, they always found a way to injure someone when handed a blade. Usually themselves.


    Walking down the alley in the center of the building, I approached Bark, and her three other victims lined up in front of her.


    Turning when I reached her alleys, I walked up the staff side, passing in front of her as she lightly touched the woman with the head and gut wounds, her eyes blank in concentration.


    Standing behind her, I watched the wound on the woman''s head wound heal over with new skin at a visible rate.


    Looking at the ever-growing line of fish, I sighed. This was going to be a long day.

 Chapter 11

    Excerpt from the Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    Willing young elves were practically offered up to us humans ¡ª though by that point, most of us weren''t really humans. Not the kind that first arrived in this strange land, at least ¡ª on a gold platter.


    Those in the leading families had harems of females ¡ª elves and humans alike ¡ª all pregnant, as they searched for the strongest child.


    Little competitions and events began happening regularly, showing off the talent of future generations as our city''s political leaders jockeyed for position.


    And yet, for all our strides for greatness, our supposed advancements, we forgot our origins. What the world will demand from us in order to survive.


    During those years and decades of breeding, the legion that all of us were a part of and why we were here was left to be forgotten. To rot in stagnation and uselessness.


    When we first arrived, there was no use for a legion and no way to support it. Not with the elves supporting us.


    What supplies would we have to support a campaign? Where would we even go in a campaign? How could we afford the cost of life when a campaign failed and we lost the legion?


    The elves gave us everything we could ever want. They told us where to find metal ore. Gave us seeds and better farming methods. Livestock for slaughter and rearing. But most of all, they gave us time.


    Time to build the foundation of a future civilization.


    I always wondered ¡ª and it was not until my twilight years that I understood ¡ª why we turned on the elves. I remember the days the whispers started.


    From one day to the next, people started whispering in the shadows about conquering the elves. Yet they never explained ¡ª or even mentioned ¡ª how a city of barely eighty thousand, primarily made up of children, young adults, and elves, could do it.


    How could we dream of conquering a nation of tens ¡ª if not hundreds ¡ª of millions of elves?


    **********


    I stood behind Bark and watched her heal the woman. The wound weeping blood on her forehead was closed over quickly. Bark then spent a few more minutes pressing and swiping her hands over the woman''s head, humming and grunting at seemingly random times.


    Finally, Bark gave a harumph and pressed her hands to the woman''s stomach for a few seconds before leaning back and flicking her hand to the orderlies to take the unconscious woman away.


    The two other fish hovering on the other side of the table from bark looked at each other, tilting their heads at Bark and elbowing the other until one finally spoke up. ¡°Umm¡­ I¡ª is she going to be alright?"


    Bark looked at them for a second before motioning to the stretcher she was being taken away on and shrugging. "Never can tell with head wounds until they wake up, but she should be fine."


    The pair didn''t look happy with the answer, but it was the best they would get.


    As one of the young men sat down on the table facing Bark, she reached up, popping two buttons off her apron.


    With a practiced flick of the wrist, the top back section of her clothes fell away, revealing her shoulders.


    Without a word, I reached out, pressing my hand against her shoulder blades.


    Closing my eyes, I began blanking my mind, calming and suppressing any stray thoughts. Slowly I focused my will into my pool of mental power. Then, I unspooled a small strand of energy through my body and down into my palm.


    As my mental energy exited my body, it immediately contacted Bark''s body, stopping as it touched her skin.


    A moment passed, and I felt another strand of mental energy enveloping my own mental energy. The other mental energy began to press into mine, seeking to gain control.


    Instead of fighting against Bark as she tried to take control of my power and will, I shifted my mental energy to better match hers, then let her take control.


    She didn''t completely take control of my energy because if she did completely cut me off, it would quickly dissipate and become useless. Instead, she let a strand of my will remain, so she would not have to fight to control and use my power, then guided the mental energy through her own body. As my mental energy entered her body, it further aligned itself with her own mental energy, allowing her easier control. She then sent our combined energy out of her body and into the young man with the sword wound on his shoulder and chest.


    The mental energy stretching between us acted as a link between our minds. For a moment, I felt Bark''s emotions and saw flashes of memories, and I''m sure she felt the same from me. Though it was common courtesy to never mention such times.


    We had begun the union.


    It is a trick everyone in the legion can perform to some degree. Though in the shield wall, the union was just a sharing of perceptions and emotions between the legionaries, which was significantly easier than sharing mental power.


    Because I was sharing my mental energy and will with Bark, it was easiest to have physical contact while performing the union of the mind. It could be done without contact, but there was no need for unnecessary strain when trying to heal. It was already complex and risky enough.


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    I quickly set about repressing my thoughts and emotions, focusing only on the now and what needed to be done. There was no way to stop everything, but you needed to get what you sent out down to a level that the other parties could ignore what they were hearing, like a whisper or stray thought in the back of their mind.


    Nearly as fast as I managed to slow and reduce my stray thoughts and emotions to Bark, she did the same to what she sent me.


    I had enough practice sharing my power that I was able to keep up a constant flow of energy while mentally sitting back and watching a master at her work.


    And she was a master of healing. No one could deny that.


    Most medicos were. It went with the job. Or, more accurately, the calling.


    While most with sufficient levels of mental power or control can perform some degree of healing. There were those who were natural''s at healing.


    It was usually the people who were naturally caring and did not like to see others in pain. Even without training and knowledge, they could heal.


    Some were able to devote their lives to studying the body and ways to use mental energy to heal it, but they were never quite as good as those like Elder Bark and hardly ever became official medicos.


    I felt the mental energy continually trickle out of my body, and I resigned myself to being a reservoir of power for Bark. It was far from the first time I had performed such a task.


    Getting on the medicos'' good side was always a smart thing to do. And volunteering to help them out was an easy way to do that. So long as you could perform a proper energy transfer.


    Thanks to my unusual level of control, even if I only had a small amount of mental energy, when I performed a union with a medico, I made them far more¡­ efficient.


    While using less mental energy for more was necessary for the gauntlet of battle healing, what mattered most of the time was it left less residue within a patient.


    As my mental energy flowed through my mind, I felt tiny pockets of foreign mental energy dislodge from my brain and flow out of my body. It was like stretching your back and feeling the pops.


    A build-up of tension before a sudden release and a feeling of relief and relaxation. Though every time some of the residual energy was dislodged, it momentarily disrupted my stream of mental energy.


    When a medico used their mental energy to stimulate the growth of the body for healing, some of the mental energy they used would remain inside of the body, unused.


    Usually, this isn''t a problem. The use of mental energy and time would work out the residue left in the body.


    When it came to a head wound, especially one''s like ¡ª let''s say as an example ¡ª the mini-stroke I had when I pushed myself too hard while falling into the haze, it was necessary to remove the residue of mental energy. Preferably as fast as possible.


    For the most part, nothing would happen, but there were those rare times that the residue would spontaneously twist and distort the flesh it was trapped in.


    If such an event happened in the arms or even the gut, who cares, a medico could heal that right up within moments. If it happened in the brain, you didn''t have a working brain.


    So it was best to clear out one''s mental energy in the first week to dislodge the residue of a procedure involving the mind. Just in case fate decided to hand out the rare reward of spontaneously dying, one did not leave their mental energy stagnating too long after waking up from a head wound. I could have rested for a day, though. I mentally complained to myself.


    "Hush." said a faint chastising voice in my mind.


    Wincing at the rebuke, I silence the grumbling thoughts in my mind trying not to distract Bark. She was unlikely to be distracted by anything I did short of trying to regain control of my mental energy running through her body, but that was not the point.


    I could distract her. And she could kill her patient because of the distraction, and I would be at fault.


    The fact that it happened at all showed that I was not as great at control as I liked to believe. Or that I wasn''t giving it my full effort because of being voluntold into it.


    Maybe a little of both.


    Even if it was for my own good, I still didn''t want to do it.


    Resigned to the long hall with Bark, I decided to get serious so the time would pass faster.


    After all the time I spent helping out the medicos, I found the best way to keep one''s mind clear was to follow what they were doing.


    It wasn''t the easiest thing to do, and most people couldn''t do it. It was like focusing on a numb arm coming back into full feeling while it was moved around by someone else.


    Unnatural was a mild way to describe what it felt like. Once I could get past how it felt, it allowed me to supply my energy for long hours at a time.


    Our combined mental energy pooled in Bark''s hands. With every twitch of her finger, she would send out tendrils and pulses of mental energy into the young man''s body.


    The pulses would give her an image of anything wrong with the body''s internals. While the tendrils would supply the mental energy to stimulate growth in the wounded areas of the body.


    As Bark''s finger tapped on the outside edge of the wound, I could feel the tendril shot into his body. The energy went to the deepest parts of the wound and layered itself along the bone and flesh.


    There was a slight vibration of the energy, and I felt small objects on the bottom and edges of the wound start floating on the surface of the layer of energy.


    She tapped a finger on the inside of the wound, sending out several strands of energy that wrapped around the rib bones that were sliced into. After a second, Bark adjusted the mental energy layered onto the bones so it was only covering the parts that were damaged sections. I could feel her give a few more slight adjustments, then give a small push to the energy, letting it go.


    I got the briefest sensation of the energy seeping into the bones before losing the feeling of the energy completely. That is not to say I did not see its effect because as Bark continued to use mental energy, I could get snapshots of the bones regrowing.


    After she layered energy onto the bones, Bark began sending out strands to different sections of the wound. As the mental energy reached whatever Bark''s desired location was, it would split into so many tens or even hundreds of smaller strands in an instant that I would lose track if I tried to count them all.


    I asked once why she healed specific areas and not others before going back over it again. She said something about how muscles have layers and different groups, and she was making sure they all healed right before moving on.


    I don''t really remember what she said.


    After the lecture she gave me on the topic, I never asked again¡­ which might have been her plan¡­


    She continued to send out one pulse and tendril after another as she saw fit, slowly razing the initial layer of mental energy she laid down, scraping it against the walls of the wound, picking up more specks as it went.


    Eventually, she sent one tendril licking across the outermost sides of the wound, growing a layer of skin over her work.


    Tapping on the freshly healed wound, she sent one last pulse echoing through his body, searching for any more damage.


    Once she was satisfied, I felt her lean back in her chair.


    I didn''t move or let go of the union while she moved. I saw the number of fish that hurt themselves. With the news I told her earlier, there was no way she was leaving before they were all healed or recovering.


    I would just have to suffer through this.

 Chapter 12

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    As the voices calling for conquest rang out at their loudest, they vanished under the screams of the dying and desperate.


    No one cared about the mutters of human supremacy when we were fighting for survival.


    One night we enjoyed a typical evening with our friends and families, only to wake up to the Red Dawn. It was a bloody morning that redefined our city and set us on the path the elves had laid out, but how could we know at the time?


    A beastmen hoard tore through the streets of Olimpia, staining the streets red with a blood that seeped into our souls, filling us with rage. We wanted vengeance. We needed blood.


    The monsters from our past had returned, and the legion, so long neglected, became the center of our society once more.


    From one morning to the next, the priorities of our city shifted from a growing internal power struggle to that of unity. We all called for war.


    Gender, social rank, or age did not matter. Every person who was able to fight or contribute to the legion did so.


    It was not a matter of want. Though many called for immediate action, they were not the reason the families dove headlong into war.


    Our city was under a near-constant assault. There was no street without one or two manned barricades blocking them. And it became common to wake up to the sounds of distant ¡ª or not-so-distant ¡ª fighting and the smell of fire as we rushed to build a wall around the city.


    And for the first time, we begged the elves for help, and they refused. They said they were dealing with hoards of beastmen in the hundreds of thousands far to the north and west. That we were dealing with the remnants and needed to handle them on our own.


    We could only accept and acknowledge that we had to rely on ourselves if we wanted to survive.


    **********


    Opening my eyes to slits, I looked up into the dark room. I kept my breathing steady while trying to keep my thoughts calm and clear.


    No one was paying attention to me specifically, but there was always an orderly assigned to monitor the surface emotions of those recovering for high levels of anxiety or pain. Never knew when someone would go into shock and die afterward.


    Currently, there were no critical patients in the monitoring ward partially through a healing, so I doubted the orderly was paying that much attention. And the assigned orderly definitely wasn''t walking around checking on patients.


    Been awake long enough to make sure of that. Keep my mind clear and calm. Don''t draw any attention, and wait just a little longer. Almost there. I thought to myself.


    With only the smallest motion of my head, I kept my eyes slightly open as I rolled it from one side to the other, scanning the ward.


    It was early in the morning, and even in legion life, it was hard to find those abominations that identified as morning people.


    With shift change going on, no one was paying attention to the patients that really didn''t need to be paid attention to.


    My scan of the room showed it was all clear. I flipped my blanket with a jerk of my arm, throwing it to the side of the bed, then slipped out from underneath it, sliding my feet onto the cold stone floor.


    I already had my trousers on, so I slipped my feet right into my boot, lacing them up and tying each one in thirty seconds. It was amazing what years of practice can teach you to do.


    Gently opening the lid to the small box under my cot, reaching inside, I grabbed my cotton tunic and belt pouches. I slipped the shirt on as I stood and walked to the end of my bed, putting on my belt pouches as I went. Not much was inside them, but I felt better having them on.


    None of my other gear was in the box, as I had an orderly take it to my room yesterday. Thanks to Bark, I might not have gotten much rest, but I didn''t have to walk across camp to drop off my crap as I prepared for my escape and rest day.


    I closed my eyes for a moment, imagining a whole day lounging around camp. A shiver of anticipation ran through me at the thought as I opened my eyes.


    Reaching the center passage of the ward, I looked toward the treatment room, making sure no one was walking around inside.


    I could tell people were in the treatment room as shadows kept passing in front of the light leaking from the cracks around the doors. I also saw the feet of the ward monitor in the small alcove beside the treatment room.


    I hesitated for a moment, straining my ears for anyone about to burst out of the room and see me. After a moment, I was confident no one would come out, the turned starting to walk towards the exit.


    Quiet snores and some murmurs marked my passage through the room.


    My footsteps were soundless on the stone floor, and there was hardly a rustle from my clothes.


    Stopping in front of the door, I lifted the latch, stiffening as a slight squeak sounded from the hinge.


    All things considered, it was a pretty small noise, but in the quiet of the early morning, it was like a shout.


    I stood still, the only sound from my body the rapid beating of my heart.


    When nothing happened, and the snores of the ward continued unchanged, I fully lifted the latch, causing another squeak I ignored as I cracked open the door and slipped through it, closing the door behind me.


    I stood in front of the door, looking at the camp in the gray fog-filled light of morning. Calling the structures and walls around me a camp wasn''t really accurate.


    Saying camp implies that it''s temporary. The Triad was the farthest thing from temporary.


    It was one of ¡ª if not The ¡ª oldest fortress still in operation.


    Even calling The Triad a fortress wasn''t right. It was fortresses. Plural. And one of those fortresses wasn''t really a fortress anymore.


    The Triad consisted of three fortresses connected by three bridges that met in the middle, arching over two rivers that combined into one which headed south. One fortress was sitting on each of the combining rivers'' northeastern, northwestern, and southeastern banks.


    The legion built it back in the first decade of Olimpia''s expansion. It was meant to act as the linchpin to the northern border and act as a transit point to The Plains, Foothills, and Steps.


    In the golden days of The Triad, Four legions constantly manned The Triad''s walls unless there was a call to battle out in the field, in which case only one legion would remain at The Triad.


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    Now, we had one legion based in the foothills northeastern side of The Triad and what amounted to half a legion of trainees camped outside the walls that rotated through every few months.


    The fortress was a relic of a different era.


    Sure every decade, there was a legion or two that had to meet a beastkin warband of a few thousand out in the field, but the legions were never pushed so hard that they had to hold up in fortresses and wait for a siege to be lifted.


    Though, the legends said that sieges weren''t lifted very often in the early days.


    There were stories of waves of beastkin that would throw themselves at hundred-foot walls. Piles of the dead would be left in their wake for every step the beastkin gained, but they would not care. Eventually, there would be a hundred-foot-tall ramp of bodies they could use to climb up and over a fortress''s walls.


    If the legends could be believed, such hoards hadn''t been seen in centuries. And the hundred-fifty-foot walls of The Triad suggested that the stories held some level of credibility. So did the hundred-plus-foot walls of every other old city or fortress in the Republic.


    As I looked at the stone buildings surrounding me, I stretched, raising my hands to the brightening sky. I was trying to get my hands into the morning light burning away the cold fog, but it was still a bit out of reach.


    I don''t like getting up in the morning, but once I was up and about, I did enjoy the fresh cool air.


    A smile slipped onto my face as I rolled my shoulders, turning to start swaggering down the street. Maybe I should go soak in the baths all day.


    "So, I guess you''re all healed up, hmm?" A sweet voice said, breaking into my thoughts and sending a shiver down my spine. "Didn''t know you were a healer and could decide that."


    A figure shrouded by fog walked out of a shadow by the side of the ward building.


    ¡°Umm¡­ W-well¡­ You see¡­" I stammered, taking a few steps back and raising my hands in defense. "I just thought¡­ to get some fresh air?"


    ¡°Ohh¡­ I see." Bark said in a dry, unbelieving tone as she appeared next to me, grabbing my arm in her iron grip.


    I felt her release a pulse of mental energy into my body, and I did nothing to fight it. She would have her way, and it was better to just get this over with now.


    "Hmm, I was going to let you stay another day, but now that I see you outside, you look fine to me."


    "Uhh, no! I''ll go right back to bed. Now that I think about it¡­ I don''t feel that good." I said in desperation, but I could already feel my dreams of relaxing crumbling around me.


    "No, no, no, you''re so eager to get up and going." She said, reaching up and patting me on the cheek, pushing my head to the side with each pat. "You young legionaries are all eager to get back to your cohorts. I''ll make sure the Prime knows you''re released."


    Flinching at her last words, my arms hung limply at my sides, my smile still plastered onto my face. "Thank you, Elder," I said woodenly as my eyes tracked her as she walked back into her treatment center with only a wave of the hand to acknowledge my words.


    I had worked all day yesterday as I fed her energy while she healed dozens of legionaries.


    It was a good way to wring me out¡­ I guess¡­ More fulfilling than lifting up rocks with my mind and throwing them around until I collapsed. Then getting up hours later to do it again.


    Healing people is great. There was something nice seeing a person healed because of your efforts. Not that I wanted to do it all the time.


    Trying to heal someone and feeling them slowly die despite your best efforts ¡ª or because of them ¡ª was not something I wanted to experience regularly.


    I''ve killed plenty of humans and beastkin, but the few times I''ve felt someone die while feeding mental energy to a medico still haunts me¡­


    Shaking off that line of thought, I began walking down the street, feet clacking against the molded stone.


    Bark would send out a report that I had left the monitoring ward. She might give me an hour.


    Might not.


    Probably won''t.


    It was best I report to the Prime soon. I could get away with not giving my report when I had already given it to Vlore.


    He would take all the credit for the information, but somewhere in the report would have to be a sentence about me being the source. And with me showing up, no one would be in a rush to get a report they already had the highlights of. And if they rushed to get my report, it would look like I did something important¡­ Can''t have that. I thought with more than a hint of resentment.


    Now that I was released by the medicos, and with Bark sending out a report, there would be questions if I didn''t show up soon.


    People in the legion were picky about showing up on time for some reason. Especially once someone got to centurion and above, it was like they forgot how to relax or something.


    Sighing to myself, I traversed the camp as I made my way over to the Prime to report in.


    I Couldn''t even say I got lost, as all legion camps are built the same. Ancient stone fortresses like The Triad and current legion field camps, all the important buildings, were in the same spots. However, the proportions might be a bit larger for those made of stone.


    I began kicking a loose stone as I shuffled along the road, my head held low, shoulders slumping.


    Despite my lackadaisical pace, it wasn''t long before I reached the barracks for the scouts in the first cohort block of buildings. Pocking my head inside, I found that no one was around. Everyone must be out on patrol.


    Not that I wanted to see them. Calling the scouts acquaintances would be a bit of a stretch. Coworkers was the best word I could call them, and most couldn''t even remain professional with me.


    Markus was the only one who I cared lived or died, and I would find out if he lived soon enough.


    With no way around it, I walked away from the barracks, heading towards the Prime Centurion''s ¡ª or Prime for short ¡ª quarters.


    I walked to the end of the block of the First Cohorts buildings, walking past the main entrance to the building, as I strode up to a smaller side entrance where I knocked on the Primes office door. His office was attached to the first century of the first cohort''s barracks, but he had a private entrance leading to his office.


    Hardly a second passed before I heard a clipped and gravelly, "Enter."


    Squaring my back, I opened the door taking three steps into the office before coming to a stop, feet together, slamming my fist to my chest, then lowering it to my side.


    "Prime, reporting from the medicos after treatment." The middle-aged man didn''t even look up from the stack of papers shuffling around and writing on as I spoke. When I finished talking, he only gave a brief grunt before sliding more of the documents to the side of his desk. Seconds passed as I continued to stand at attention, waiting for him.


    Finally, the Prime stood up, walking around his desk and giving me a tilt of his head to follow as he passed.


    Falling into line behind him, I kept a step back as I followed him out of the building and down the line of buildings.


    After a while, the Prime Centurion of the first cohort spoke, "Did you tell Vlore all the important information?"


    I didn''t answer for a moment as I thought back on the conversation before saying, "Yes, Prime."


    He only gave a slight nod as if he was expecting the answer. "You fully healed?"


    "Slight twinge in my arm and ankle, but nothing serious, Prime."


    ¡°Good¡­ Good¡­" He slowly said as we made it to the walls of the fortress and slowly began climbing up the stairs. Once we reached the top, we stood at the ramparts together, looking out at a sea of tents and earthen ramparts surrounding them.


    It was the fish training camp.


    "If what you reported is correct ¡ª and the number of missing and dead scouts suggests you are ¡ª we will need every legionary we can get. And we need them trained as well as possible. We just got a new crop of fish, and the old one marched out a week ago. Bad timing, that¡­" He said, trailing off for a moment, his eye clouding over in thought.


    All of a sudden, he was facing me. His sharp eyes roved over my body for long seconds. He must have seen whatever it was he wanted because an instant later, he nodded before turning back to the camp of fish.


    "You''re one of the best scouts we have, but no one of skill¡ª" we both know you mean social rank, ¡°¡ªwill put up with me placing you over them." It was a fact and needed no explanation. "We got a new crop of scout candidates with the fish. You''re going to train and lead them. Make it work and get to work. We are going to need all the information we can get soon." With that, he turned around and started walking away down the ramparts. I could feel subtle pulses of mental energy radiating off him into the wall.


    "Prime?" I asked as he turned to walk away.


    He turned back, raising a single eyebrow at my questioning tone.


    Seeing he was willing to answer, I asked, "Did Opito Markus make it back?"


    He said nothing for a second, then gave a single sad shake of his head, "No, Centurion Markus is currently MIA." He said, emphasizing centurion.


    "Thank you, Prime," I said, saluting him. I was surprised Markus became the centurion of the scout cohort. He never said anything. It must have happened right before we left, and he didn''t want to distract us. The old one did transfer a couple weeks ago¡­ just keeps getting better and better.


    He gave another nod of his head as he started walking down the wall again, inspecting it with pulses of mental energy.


    I turned and looked down at the tents seeing an unusual amount of activity in the fish camp. I could not disobey a direct order. ¡°Well¡­ fuck."

 Chapter 13

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    But we were not prepared to stand on our own.


    Only a few of the first generation that commanded troops in combat were still alive. And of those still puttering about, most were in no condition to go anywhere beyond their living room.


    Regardless of how old and infirm those of the first generation were, they were incomparably better than the filth that saturated the rotting corpse of The Ninth.


    The Ninth had become a civic legion when we founded the city, but as the need for them continued to fall, they became little more than a collection of bullies and drunkards.


    As the monsters invaded, the supposed legion fled, hiding from their duty.


    More than our near none existent leadership and army, our city had no proper defenses. And even the ones we managed to build were nearly useless.


    The relentless beasts would throw themselves at the walls and trenches as we killed them by the scores. Until ramps of the dead would lead up to and over our defenses, and we were forced to make a fighting retreat.


    But we still struggled. We fought, for we would not accept an easy death.


    Old legionaries, once-thought relics of the past left to be forgotten in dark rooms, could be seen in squares and auditoriums teaching the young how to fight as a legion. How to lead troops.


    Even as the young learned from the old, they adapted the teachings to their new reality. Because the young were not limited like the first generation.


    The young created harnesses to lighten their weight and allowed them to pull themselves out of danger. They practiced reinforcing their shield and weapons with their mind making them heavier and lighter as the situation demanded. And with the help of the city''s elves, they created the Unity of the Mind for the legion.


    Simply put, the Unity of Mind was a mass telepathic linking.


    It was a melding of minds for a legion. Allowing a legionary with their back turned to know to dodge the slash of a beastman''s claws.


    Unity installed a level of coordination unmatched by any legion of the past.


    **********


    Trudging through the rows of tents, the sounds of a legion camp washed over me. It might have been somewhat pleasant to walk through the camp, but the noonday sun was beating down on me.


    Thanks to the rivers and foggy morning, the air was still cool, so I had that going for me. But the sun''s rays were hot and getting hotter by the hour, making me more and more uncomfortable. And my ankle hurt from all the walking I did earlier this morning. And I was walking all over the place because everything was a mess¡­


    It was making me¡­ annoyed.


    Before coming to the new fish camp, I returned to my room and then the supply tribune to outfit myself with a full set of scout gear. Had to make an impression on the trainees. No way they would respect and follow me otherwise, I thought sardonically.


    Then I walked back to the fish camp outside the northeastern fort, only to find half the camp was gone. I was kind of happy, as it was being moved outside the fort on the northwestern spur of The Triad. Apparently, someone was taking the beastkin threat a little seriously.


    So, yay~, scouts!


    But it also made me walk for an hour as I passed through two forts and over a bridge with growing ankle pain.


    So¡­ boo~, scouts¡­


    At least I was almost there, as I was mostly through the fish camp.


    Occasionally, I could hear shouts and groans breaking through the camp''s din, but they were the exceptions. Underlying every sound was the gentle roar of conversation and the subtle rustle of clothes. Punctuated by the constant clinks of pots and roasting spikes over cooking fires.


    It wasn''t like the legionaries were intentionally making noise, but once you get this many people together, the sounds of daily life became nearly deafening.


    Everywhere I looked, I could see the fish sharpening their blades, oiling, cleaning, and checking their armor and harnesses. Tents were being set up or remade as drill instructors shouted at the fish for not properly doing one of the former.


    Walking across the increasingly trampled grassy field in front of the fort''s walls, I made it to a section of the tents in the camp that was unique. Not for its differences, because while there were differences, they were minor at best, but the lack of scrambling and disorder.


    "Thank the Guardians¡­" I said in relief.


    It was like from one step to the next, the ambiance of borderline panic and frantic energy from the fish was replaced by a calm surety. It was just another day on the job for these men and women.


    Which was the way that this part of the camp should feel. Because this was where the instructors slept. It was also where the specialists in training stayed while they remained at The Triad.


    For all the grandeur that The Triad once held, it was now little more than a training center. The southeastern spike of The Triad was hardly even a fort and was more of a tribune training and social gathering school. It kept growing past its walls and now counted as one of The Republic''s cities, not a fort. The northwestern spur was a play fort for the fish to practice manning the walls. And the northeastern spur ¡ª where I was stationed ¡ª remained the only fully manned fort of The Triad, as we still saw the occasional warband raiding the Foothills.


    While we did serve a legitimate purpose, we were normally just an extra pair of hands the fish instructors could call upon.


    The forts legion hadn''t seen a real battle since my father was in the legions. So The Triad''s position as the unofficial training ground for the northern half of The Republic remained.


    Which was turning out to be a blessing rather than the hassle it usually was.


    The 15th Legion and The Triad were mostly ignored by The Senate and City Lords. Any calls for reinforcements ¡ª or even personnel replacements ¡ª took weeks, if not months, to process. And that wasn''t counting the travel time. The nearest city with a guaranteed legion presence was slightly over two hundred miles away by air.


    Not that the air distance mattered. The 15th wasn''t important enough to have a flyer and pilot lying around, so any messenger would have to travel longer on the ground. Having both the control and raw power to pull yourself through the air for hours on end was something only the high nobility or the bastards of high nobility could do. One of those being at this backwater fort was¡­ unlikely.


    I believe we had someone who could connect to the Tele-Net in camp, but there was no way the Captain would burn the mind stones to call for aid without a solid idea of what we were facing.


    The only thing we could do was send messengers to Basetown and maybe Cross. We had a duty to inform them we might have a major incursion of beastkin on our hands. After all, they''ll be at the forefront of the defense right along with us.


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    And if The Triad did need help, Basetown and Cross were honor bound by long tradition to come to our aid.


    But the end of the matter was there was no way we would receive a reply from the messengers for weeks. And any report to the Senate would take months for a response, let alone replacements for the dead or missing scouts.


    Without information from scouts, we had no idea what we were up against, so we needed more scouts.


    What no one but my immediate superiors could stop me from doing was sending the scout applicants out on actual scouting missions. And the Prime told me to do it¡­ so that wouldn''t be happening soon.


    Not that I wanted to send them out before they were ready, but if I had to¡­ I would. It was better than the legion ¡ª and all it protected ¡ª being destroyed.


    I walked through the small, somewhat calm section of the camp, looking for a group of board legionaries. They would all be veterans with years of experience.


    While they were in scout training, they would technically be trainees, but there was no reason to treat them like the fish. They were here to expand their skill sets, not learn the basics as they were broken down and remolded. There would still be some braking, just not in the same way as the fish.


    Seeing A few heads that didn''t look like they were doing anything poking up over the tents, I headed for them.


    Turning the corner, I saw what must be my trainees. There was no other reason for them to be lounging around in the fish camp.


    There had to be twenty legionaries sitting around a couple fires or lounging partially inside tents. From what I could see, they were gambling, taking care of equipment, or any other of the other daily necessities legion life demanded.


    Stopping next to the first lounging legionary, I kicked her in the leg.


    She started to stir and grumble, waving her hand in a shooing motion, so I kicked the leg harder.


    One of her hands snapped up, ripping the cloth draped over her eyes, while the other went down to a knife on her belt.


    Her arm with the cloth drove into the ground, lifting her torso while her legs curled under her for a leap. Knife half unsheathed, she stopped, her face going pale.


    Her eyes were darting around to different sections of my equipment, finally settling on the pin holding my cloak together under my neck. It was a clump of three layered ash leaves splayed out in a quarter arch and symbolized the scout cohort.


    At least she stopped before getting her knife all the way out, I thought to myself.


    Her mouth opened, and she was going to stutter something, but I cut her off. "Are these the scout trainees?" I waited for her nod and started to speak again before I continued talking, "Good. Gather everyone and meet me out on the Grounds." I said, nodding to the section of grassland beyond the camp''s edges the fish were practicing in.


    Not waiting for her to answer, I continued walking down and out of the alley of tents.


    I took six steps before I heard the woman scrambling to get up and start shouting at her fellow trainees. Some looked at her in annoyance and tried to shout her down at first, but others took a second to look around their surroundings, quickly taking note of me walking through their area.


    The more perceptive people dropped what they were doing and rushed to get ready. At that, even the densest trainees took a moment to notice me, or so I assumed since they shut up.


    Making a mental note to watch the perceptive ones, I continued walking through the increasingly chaotic section of tents.


    Their movements weren''t like the frantic motions of the fish, as they were controlled and practiced. But anyone without a large amount of time in the legions might mistake their controlled chaos for actual disorder.


    As I made it through the tents, I took in the training ground filled with fish and their instructors.


    Taking in the familiar sight for a moment, I took in a breath filled with the smell of grass and dust, then walked forward.


    I kept up a quick walk but never an actual jog as I blended into the mayhem of a couple thousand fish. It wouldn''t do for the fish to see anyone but themselves rushing about.


    As I walked through the mass of people, I kept an eye on my recruits as I inspected the fish camp. The last remnants from the northeastern side of The Triad were trickling over. And already, most of the camp was surrounded by earthworks.


    Not bad for the fishes'' morning work. They might not have the skill yet, but no one could deny the effort.


    Picking up my pace, I kept a cohort of fish between me and the thirty-eight trainee scouts I could see looking for me at the edge of the training grounds.


    They were searching for me. I knew that. I could see the growing desperation on their faces as they failed to find me. Because if they couldn''t find me, well, that was on them. And it could be grounds to be kicked out of the scout''s training course.


    A smile twitched at my lips as they continued to fail.


    If there was one thing an army with a thousand years of history had in spades, it was traditions.


    What better tradition for the scout cohort trainees than finding their instructor? ¡­And having their instructor hunt them without their knowing.


    We might soon be fighting for our lives, and there might be a warband of thousands ¡ª could be tens of thousands ¡ª of beastkin on the horizon. But that was no reason to deprive these recruits of this wonderful tradition.


    And more importantly, it was a chance for them to come to the realization that no one could force on them. I was a scout, and they would have to listen to me to learn the skills they needed to become a scout.


    While most of them had faint memories of their fish days, I doubted many remembered full legionaries wandering and running about the training grounds searching for something. But there were always the stories of the few scout trainees who put two and two together over the years.


    Usually, it started exactly as it was now. The trainees standing around with their eyes wide as the panic set in and a thumb up their collective asses.


    As the instructor, it was my job to walk back and forth across the field without being spotted until I got close enough to act.


    On my second pass, I noticed the group begin to split. The more perceptive trainees I noticed and the young woman I kicked in the leg started slipping away from the main group and began looking for me in other places.


    The rest stayed in the mass as they wandered around the training field, searching for me.


    While I applauded the initiative of those who tried to slip away, they stuck out like a sore thumb and were my first easy targets. So long as they didn''t brake up too much.


    Picking up my pace, I used a group of marching fish to cover me as I slipped into a group of resting fish, where I waited. Even with my cloak making me stand out compared to the leather armor of the fish, I blended right in when I flopped to the ground.


    And the fish were too tired to give more than a glance, and usually not even that, at me in curiosity.


    I sent out pulses tracking the scout trainees as they passed when I couldn''t see them. Once the primary group went by, I waited for another ten or so seconds, letting those trailing the mass of trainees pass my hiding spot.


    As they passed, I rose and fell into step behind them, forming four mental strands and slipping them into a pouch at my waist. I pulled out four stones and then flung them forward.


    Turning away, I began walking down a line of fish, practicing the basic legion slashes and stabs against dummies.


    "Ough! Oww!" I smiled as I heard their screams of pain.


    At this point, they must be looking at their hands, wondering why they were covered in red chalk and who hit them.


    Coming around the end of the row of practicing fish, I could see an instructor gathering up the four marked individuals, ushering them to the side of the training grounds.


    Refocusing, I saw the other perceptive trainees clumping together as they pointed out their compatriots. They had to be suspecting something was up.


    A few steps to the side and a quick flick of my wrist marked the five trainees ¡ª which included the female ¡ª and whatever concerns they were hatching about their situation were dealt with.


    Creating five strands was a bit of a strain, but hitting them as they stood in place talking about their brethren being led away, was far from the hardest thing I have ever done.


    With the perceptive trainees out of the way, I slowly began sneaking up on the backs of the other twenty-seven trainees.


    I began picking off the people in the back in ones and twos.


    Even though it looked like the drill instructors weren''t paying attention to the scout trainees, hardly three seconds would pass after I marked a trainee before an instructor would grab the marked individual and pull them away.


    In that way, it wasn''t long until there were eight scout trainees left. They were getting suspicious as people shouted or grunted in pain before being pulled away by an instructor.


    But who really questions a superior pulling someone away? Pretty much everyone when no one came back, and their numbers just kept decreasing. Not that it mattered what they noticed at this point.


    Getting within ten feet of the last eight, I sent out two quick volleys of rocks, hitting each in the neck or head.


    The chorus of screams was music to my ears as they all turned around, eyes widening as I held two chalk-covered red stones spinning above my hand.


    Nodding to the side, I turned and walked away, moving the stones back to my pouch.


    With the trainee scouts following, we walked through the field, ending a few feet from where they started.


    The rest of the trainees were waiting, standing or squatting on the ground with sullen expressions. I gave a nod to the instructor watching over them, receiving a smile in return as he saw the rest of the trainees with red splotches. "Got five silver because of you," he said with a smile and nod as he passed.


    Waving to those following me to join their comrades, I waited a few seconds for them to stand at attention, which all of them did. Even if some did it begrudgingly.


    Giving them a shit-eating grin of enjoyment, I said, "Welcome to the scouts."

 Chapter 14

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    Thanks to all of our efforts, we quickly solidified our defensive position.


    The walls of Olimpia became higher and higher. Once we thought the wall was high enough, we built a few more rings around us just in case.


    Then we expanded.


    For the first time in over three decades, the new 1st legion marched across this land.


    We didn''t go far.


    We couldn''t go far.


    But we were a city, and our connection to the elves was growing more and more tenuous as more of the beasts poured into the area.


    No, we barely marched a mile from Olimpia. Then we set about building walls around our fields of wheat and apple orchards. We felt we needed to protect our food supply.


    It was a mistake.


    The beastmen were drawn to us like moths to a flame. Too tempted by the smell of our flesh to avoid a prepared force.


    Over and over, the 1st legion beat the beasts back, getting better at fighting, but the fields and orchards would become more and more damaged every time we fought.


    Within a week, there was nothing more to protect.


    So it was decided to play into the beast''s instincts.


    The legion marched a few miles northwest of Olimpia, camping on the banks of the Lolouk river.


    We rushed to set up a fort with a constant smoking fire at its heart as we prepared to act as bait.


    **********


    I looked at the gathered mass of scout trainees and was not surprised.


    Few of those gathered here had the signs of a strong elven heritage.


    Most had nearly rounded ears with a slight tip at the back and the more square rugged, tanned features of humans rather than the sharp, pale features of the elves.


    I would be surprised if any of them had a pure-blooded elf within the last three or four generations of their heritage.


    "I am Green," I said, eyes slowly shifting from one trainee to another. "I will be your Instructor."


    My ears twitched as I heard someone snickering at the back of the group. "Aha~! What do you think his full name is?"


    "Who cares? I just wish we had a real instructor, not this reject." Said a second male voice.


    The voices were low, and a human standing in my spot would probably only be able to tell someone was talking, but I heard the comments just fine. There was something to be said for having long oversized ears.


    But whether a human standing in my spot would barely be able to tell what the sound was, most if not all the trainees heard.


    Even as an uneasy silence settled on us, my gaze shifted from person to person.


    It was immediately apparent that most of the thirty-six other trainees harbored similar thoughts. Hard to miss when from one second to the next, most couldn''t meet my eyes.


    The few who would still meet my eyes had theirs filled with scorn and disgust. It was already in the depths of their eyes, but now they no longer even tried to hide it.


    This came faster than normal, I thought to myself.


    "Ahh~. Fuck it." I whispered before I took a few steps to the side, looking the man who first spoke in the eyes, "What did you say?" I asked him.


    None of the other legionaries moved more than their eyes. They had too much experience of not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to make such a basic mistake as moving.


    If they could, I was sure the legionaries would extend their eyeballs out of their heads and turn them around to look at the man I was talking to. Watching the drama unfold made for good entertainment.


    As it was, I could slight pulses of what I was sure they thought were subtle uses of mental energy, and their full attention riveted on me.


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    This would be entertaining for the watching trainees, no matter what happened.


    The man was tan, and he had a full-trimmed black beard and hair with hazel eyes. Must come from quite the family with those looks, I thought.


    The bearing the man gave off had the feeling of nobility. I might have even gone so far as to call him distinguished if he wasn''t collapsing in on himself from my question.


    At first, as I looked him in the eye, his face drained of color, and his eyes shifted to the people around him. He was looking to them for help and approval of his comment. No spine at all, I thought in scorn.


    I saw the thought cross his face. And without even trying, I could feel humiliation and anger start radiating off him.


    His pale face quickly flushed a deep red, and I saw his finger start twitching against his thighs.


    Mouth opening, I could see the words that would allow me to kick him out of the scout trainee program forming on his lips. At the last moment, he clacked his mouth shut, his teeth holding in his words.


    Through his gritted teeth, he said, "Sorry, sir. I didn''t say anything."


    I looked at him without blinking for long moments, and I could hear the uncomfortable shifting of the rest of the trainees as I let the silence continue.


    "No, seriously, what did you say?"


    His red face started bleeding down his neck at my words, and veins and tendons were sticking out of his neck as he clenched his jaw.


    Mouth barely opening, the man hissed out, "What is¡­ your full name¡­ instructor?"


    ¡°Ahh¡­ Yes." I said, immediately turning my back on the man and walking down the line. I heard some impacts, grunts, and some shuffling of feet. Someone must be trying to get him back in line. Pitty, the prick would have definitely come at me for the insult of turning my back on him if not for his friends. I shouldn''t punish loyalty¡­ It''s a good name for him, though¡­


    I slowed my steps, letting the scuffle die down and Prick regain control of himself so he and his compatriots could regain their positions.


    Forcing down the smile twitching at my lips, I decided not to push him any further¡­ for now.


    "Hmm. ¡­As many of you have no doubt heard," I began as I walked around the gathered group, "the elvan naming traditions are considered¡­ weird. Our parents named us after something they saw in nature on the day of our births. Not that you will ever use it, but my full name is Greenish-red Leaf Floating Past On A Gentle Breeze. For simplicity and time, everyone calls me Green. But to you all, I am Instructor or Instructor Green."


    I stopped my walk and turned my head, locking eyes with the man next to Prick. "And you said something about wishing for a real scout Instructor¡­ right?"


    His back stiffened, and I could see his adam''s apple frantically bob before his mouth opened, ¡°Ahh¡ª" He croaked out before licking his lips and swallowing again, "Yes~, sir."


    I nodded when he answered, then turned my head forward and continued walking, letting the silence build.


    "Do all of you really think that?" I let the question hang in the air, but not so long that someone would build up the courage to answer. I did not want anyone to answer.


    "Do you really think that the scouts would allow anyone into their ranks that did not meet the requirements? That they would allow me into their ranks?" The rows of recruits shifted their feet, scooting back, but I stepped forward, closing the distance. "I assure you, any and all scouts have met and exceeded the requirements. And that will be the same for all of you!"


    Taking a step back, I took a breath, calming myself. I had gotten a little heated at the end, so I took a moment to center myself again before talking.


    "Do not delude yourselves. Your heritage ¡ª your nobility and families ¡ª mean nothing to me. It means nothing to my superiors. If I say you fail, you fail. There will be no discussion or appeals. For most of your lives, you have skated through your mental training. If you hadn''t, you would be joining the knights, not the scouts. But you''re not good enough for them, are you?"


    At my words, there was more than one person who flinched. I held back a smirk when I noticed that Prick was one of them. Well, I tried to, but his reddening face said I didn''t entirely succeed.


    "So most of you decided to come to the scouts as your¡­ backup plan. Except that you are coming here with the same misconception that most trainees have. A misconception that will get you kicked out of the program for being inadequate."


    I stopped walking in the center of the group of trainees and began looking each of them in the eyes as I spoke. Although they were hesitant, they were meeting my eyes again. And I could tell the doubt in my authority and right to teach them had lessened.


    "Usually, I wouldn''t tell you, but now isn''t the time to watch you all flounder until the few capable and dedicated ones rise to the surface. As it turns out, you all are lucky."


    The smile I gave them was not kind. It had too many teeth to be taken as anything near kind. "As you have no doubt heard rumors of, there is a beastkin warband nearby. It is why we moved the fish camp here." I could see them shifting in excitement as they looked at each other from the corner of their eyes. Fighting a warband was a great chance to gain recognition and promotions.


    If I had any chance to whip them into shape, they had to understand what we were dealing with. "What you have not heard is that half of the scout cohort is dead or missing, killed or captured by the beastkin scouts. The only reason I am here is that I stumbled into camp half-dead a couple days ago after escaping their ambush, and I''m still recovering. I am the only survivor of my squad because the beastkin were able to shroud their minds from us."


    I took a moment to breathe and let the information sink in, giving the perfect moment for everyone to hear a woman mutter, "Kawrashit!"


    Some were so shocked by my words that they nodded in agreement and even turned their head to look at the woman in surprise.


    Ignoring the interruption, I continued talking, "Right now, every other scout is out on patrol. And if half of them come back, I would be surprised. Even if they all come back, we already have plenty of spots that need filling sooner rather than later. So you lot are practically guaranteed a spot, so long as you can muster up the will to dedicate yourself."


    The recruits did not look reassured.


    In fact, their appearances looked paler and more washed out than I have ever seen a collective group take on.


    "I am not wrong. I am not mistaken. This is not a joke. You will be scouts because the legion needs scouts. So I will tell you this now, to save time and applicants. This will be some of the hardest training of your life and will take more effort than you have probably ever used to achieve a single goal. But if you last through it, you will gain more than you could imagine."


    I let the words and my resolve sink in, then a vindictive smile spread over my face, causing some to flinch in fear. "Now, let''s begin."

 Chapter 15

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    As we struggled and learned how to withstand the hoards, it was a time of smoke, screams, and blood.


    If you were part of The Gauntlet''s founding, you would understand. If not, nothing I could say would mean more.


    I was there. I watched every step of the way as that maze of death, and rotting flesh was built. And I helped as best I could.


    I could not fight in the line. I would hinder the legionaries as I couldn''t join The Unity. As such, no one could anticipate and support my actions.


    I did not have the strength to pull back the heavy bows required to pierce the skin of the beastmen.


    I could not justify joining the cavalry, as it would be a waste of a horse. I had no mental powers, and there were lines of volunteers that could do everything I could and more.


    But no one could match my mind. My memory.


    I ran the supply department. I kept the food coming in and the arrows, spears, swords, shields, and leather goods going out to the legionaries.


    I ensured we had the food and sent out requests for what I anticipated we would need.


    Despite my efforts, all I could do was watch as young man after young woman died fighting as I stood behind them.


    And then, I buried and burned what was left of their bodies.


    I did what I could.


    We all did.


    **********


    "Keep running!" I shouted. "If a single one of you drops your sphere, all of you will do ten more laps! If you are hit, you do two more laps!"


    I stood at the railing of a tower standing in the center of an exercise course.


    The course consisted of stretches they were supposed to sprint through interspersed by walls of wood, tracks of mud they had to crawl through, and a balance course of upright poles and laid-out logs. There was also a section where lines of nearly invisible wire were strung across the course that was changed periodically by an attendant. And another where they had to dodge nets being thrown at them while avoiding falling into the five-by-six-foot pitfalls.


    They had to traverse all that while the archers standing next to me let out flights of blunt arrows and a steady rate at them.


    By this point, the trainees were exhausted mentally and physically. They had been doing this for the hours since my little speech while wearing their armor and swords, after all.


    This course would be demanding for me to run for that long, and I was expected to be in better shape than them. While the basic level of exercise for legion grunts was good, it was not so good that they could run this course for hours without rest. Throw in the requirements for mental abilities, and the course was downright grueling.


    "Traig, that arrow was not meant for you! You owe me two more laps!" I shouted while trying to keep track of everyone else on the course.


    There were plenty of other mistakes happening that I could call out. Anooha''s shield blocked a net thrown at her and threw it into the path of an arrow aimed at someone else. Joxin''s perception sphere was definitely shrinking every few minutes, but I was pretty sure that was from exhaustion. And Prick was not running nearly as fast as he could, even if his maybe-pretend twisted ankle was holding him back.


    So long as there were no more major mistakes that would force me to call them out, I was content with where they all were.


    And that was utterly exhausted, both mentally and physically.


    The scout cohort was unique for several reasons.


    One of the major reasons the scouts were special was we let men and women serve together on the same squads and centuries.


    Thanks to mental abilities, physical differences mattered very little. Sure, men, in general, were bigger, stronger, and faster physically. But what did a little more arm strength mean when a woman could reinforce her shield to the point that moving it was like moving a five-hundred-pound rock. And then slash out with her sword doing the same.


    If the man cannot match the woman''s mental abilities, his slight physical advantage means nothing.


    No men and women cannot serve together because of Unity.


    When legionaries are joined in Unity, they are still individuals and can pull out at any time, but the overall instincts of the collective are exaggerated within each individual.


    In a situation like a shield wall ¡ª where survival comes down to instinct and split-second reactions ¡ª extra impulses are not needed.


    While it does not always happen, there are plenty of stories of women joining a men''s cohort and being placed within the shield wall. And then, in the heat of battle, the men would throw themselves to their deaths as they tried to save the woman.


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    Entire battle formations were broken because a single person was dying or about to be killed, and the men were filled with an overwhelming need to protect.


    It was an unnecessary factor in an already chaotic battle that could easily be solved by splitting the genders into separate cohorts and centuries.


    The scouts had no such separations, though. Mainly because entering Unity was counter to everything we did. We were a loose collection of individuals that, if one of us was caught, the others needed to live and report back.


    While we could and did work together at times, we were hardly ever physically close enough that a Union was feasible. It was not uncommon for a squad of scouts to leave together and come back alone.


    Another significant difference of the scouts was endurance. Scouts had to perform a mental casting for hours on end without the crutch of leaning on the collective will of The Union.


    While I''m sure many of these recruits had personal trainers in their youth to train their minds, years as legion grunts probably dulled their mental blades.


    I needed to resharpen their minds and then hone them a bit further if they would make it as scouts.


    And this training should do just that.


    Requiring them to keep up their perception sphere and occasionally block an arrow. It would require them to develop their efficiency.


    Either they could consciously do it, or I would harass them until they dropped unconscious and then make them get up and do it again, making them go a little longer the second time.


    But this was a marathon, not a sprint. I needed the changes to be beaten into their bones, not seared into their flesh.


    So I needed to be careful about what I called out. I could not call out too much so that there was no possible way they could complete the workout, but I had to work them hard enough to push them to a point they couldn''t imagine before.


    "Keep up the pace!" I shouted, voice ringing over the course, "Whoever finishes the base hundred laps first doesn''t have to do their penalty laps! Whoever''s last takes on those extra laps!"


    I smiled as Prick picked up his pace to nearly what he was running at when we first started. Guess he did hurt himself.


    "Pick up the pace of your firing for the next circuit," I said to the archers. "Aim for the leader."


    Someone gave a grunt, and I stood at the railing watching my recruits and occasionally calling out their mistakes and, more often, threats about keeping up the pace.


    About twenty minutes later, I climbed down from the tower and started making my way over to the recruits, collapsed on the ground at the side of the course. As I walked, I waved at the archers and the few other attendants gathering by the tower, signaling they could leave.


    When I arrived, I stood at the edge of the group, looking down at the sweaty mud-covered trainees.


    It took a few moments, but they all turned their heads toward me. Most of the eyes I looked at were glazed over with exhaustion and more than a hint of anger.


    "What you just experienced will be your life as a scout. You will always be maintaining one or more castings. You will have to move through the forests without rest, sometimes pursued but always weary of what''s around. Because that is the job." My voice was casual, but I was trying to make it carry as I filled it with conviction.


    As I talked, I began walking among the trainees, stepping between their splayed-out arms and legs. "You will walk into where we think the enemy is located, and we will expect you to walk out with the information to deny or confirm the belief. Whether you can make it back with your squad or alone, you will make it back because the legion depends on it. You might save a century, a cohort, or even the whole legion with a single¡ª


    My head snapped up from eyeing the trainees, tilting to the side as my ears twitched while I focused on a distant sound. I did not care about my speech, the back of my mind was screaming danger at the faint noise, and I was only alive because I listened to my instincts.


    Focused on my hearing, I started squinting my eyes, only for them to snap open in alarm.


    I saw motion.


    A lot of motion. In the sky¡­


    As I searched the growing dusk. There was nothing. The sky was clear. But¡­


    Slightly turning my head, I looked into the sun and saw the motion I had noticed before.


    For brief moments, I could make out outlines against the setting sun. It looked like a massive flock of birds was rapidly approaching close to the ground, using the sun as cover.


    ¡­But they weren''t birds.


    It only took a second of indecision before I acted.


    I gathered half of my mental power, then released it towards the fish camp in a specific pattern of mental pulses.


    "Get up!" I shouted at the same moment I released the pulses. Those in the path of my arc of mental energy sat up immediately in alarm and started looking around as they struggled to their feet.


    The rest were slower, but they also started getting up. It was some combination of my voice conveying something was wrong and me commanding them for the last hours.


    It was only when the trainees in the path of my message started echoing it that some energy entered their movements.


    Which was to be expected.


    I used the standard legion relay language. It was a series of staggered pulses that could relay information to the legion as a whole or across miles of rough terrain by a trapped scout.


    It was information like enemy, friendly, retreat, and charge. The pattered contained many simple words that could be relayed, giving critical information to a legion, like what I sent, "Ambush air west."


    The others were struggling to look for the threat in the sun, but I was already turning and starting to run.


    "Follow me!" I shouted, "They''ll be on us in moments!"


    The command in my tone must have been enough because I heard footsteps following me.


    We ran across the course, and I stopped at the edge of the pitfall traps as I bent over, grabbed one of the nets, and turned around.


    "Those with the strongest will and who still have reserves of mental energy gather up and make a bunker! Everyone else, grab a net and check your blade!" Half of the trainees were clumped up behind me, with another quarter trickling in. But a few trainees were still lying on the ground where they had fallen after the workout, with others gathered around them.


    "What training is this, you fucking Twig!" Prick called out. "Didn''t get enough pleasure from making us run around! Had to go send out a false alarm? Haha, I''m gonna enjoy watching you hang, Leaf!"


    I ignored the petty man and looked into the distance again, judging the time we had.


    Prick was right. Not about me hanging, but that anyone would hang if they sent out a false pulse message. The punishments were harsh for those who intentionally did that.


    But I wasn''t wrong.


    The sun had fallen over the horizon, and I could see the flock of beastkin skimming the ground.


    "Ancestor, protect us¡­" I whispered to myself dropping the net as I looked at the thousands upon thousands of bird beastkin.


    I could see the wide fear-filled eyes of the trainees around me as they spotted what I had. Their eyes were the same as mine.


    We could not fight that. And there was nowhere to run.


    Nowhere but down.


    "Get that fucking bunker built!" I shouted into the air, causing people to jump forward.

 Chapter 16

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    There were always more beastmen.


    We had breaks for an hour or two, but another hoard of a thousand or more was perpetually approaching. Throwing themselves at The Gauntlet.


    They never seemed to learn or adapt to our strategy.


    And if you looked into their dead murderous eyes, there was no difference as they lay chopped in half on the ground or charging at you on all fours.


    There was nothing in those eyes, only mindless savagery.


    But there were differences in the beasts.


    Though they all appeared to have some aspect of a human, the animal parts changed.


    The different types of beasts generally stayed together. The rams stayed with the rams and the bison with the bison, except when a couple rams and bisons happened to be intermingled with a hoard of deer.


    The same pattered held true for the carnivore beastmen like wolves, bears, cats, and wolverines.


    Though the bird species of beastmen all seemed to stick together in flocks of the same species or fly as individuals.


    The lack of mixing made it easy to know what to expect from any battle with the beasts. Not that it was any less of a slog.


    Or made the losses any easier to bear.


    But we could send out scouts for the nearest hoard and devise a plan for how to deal with it. It was simple. Easy.


    We thought we were fine, that we knew what we were doing.


    Which was when the universe showed us how wrong we were.


    **********


    We had seconds, maybe as much as a minute, until the bird beastkin arrived.


    My eyes scanned the grasslands around us, and besides my trainees, no one else was on the training grounds. It only made sense. I pushed them into the edge of the night, and there was no way my helpers would stick around longer than necessary. Not with the smell of cooking fires hanging in the air.


    We were all alone. Thirty-two exhausted legionaries and one scout standing next to a series of pits dug into a grass plane half a mile from a camp of thousands of fish while thousands of beastkin approach.


    "Move it, people!" I shouted, causing everyone to look at me, "If you want to live, dig a damn hole!"


    Finally, ten people stepped forward and gathered together.


    "Grab the fucking nets!" I shouted at everyone else standing around, "Double up when we run out! Anything that gets close bring it down!"


    Looking to the side, I checked on those that were supposed to be digging, and they were, in fact, digging. They had gathered five feet to my left and were starting to rip chunks of dirt out of the ground before compressing it.


    "Hey!" I shouted at the diggers. I stomped my foot down on the pit''s edge, causing a chunk of dirt to fall off. "Start down there!" I said while pointing at the hole. Realization and chagrin appeared on their faces as they began shuffling into the pit.


    I couldn''t blame them too much. They were so tired they were little more than zombies.


    As they climbed into the hole, I shouted one more command, "Save the fist-sized rocks and use them!"


    I didn''t know if their clouded minds understood, but I had other things to do.


    Closing my eyes, I reached out and started creating mental links with everyone around me. When I began probing their minds, they immediately latched on to it.


    I did not have the raw power to make the thirty-two necessary links on my own, but as more people joined The Unity, I was able to draw on a small amount of their mental power and will to expand the network. It made what would have been an impossible task by myself in a matter of a few seconds.


    "Circle up!" I shouted as I opened my eyes after completing the links. At my words, the twenty-two trainees outside the pit took up positions around it, standing with a foot and a half between each of us.


    With every passing second, I could feel the trainees partially recover from their mental and physical exhaustion. If they broke the link, their exhaustion would instantly crash down on them again, but while in Unity, everything was easier to ignore.


    From where I stood, I could see the approaching flock of beastkin and the desperate faces of Prick and his lackeys as they ran for us.


    They would not make it. They were only halfway to us, and the beastkin would be on us in seconds.


    "One minute," I mentally sent through the link, "We last for one minute, and we go into the hole." I felt the wave of acknowledgment from my shield-mates and the feeling of determination radiating from the diggers. They were hard at work as they bore diagonally down from inside the hole.


    Whatever the diggers make in a minute should be enough for whoever survives this mess. I thought to myself in resignation.


    I blinked, and the last rays of the setting sun burned high across the sky. Then the monstrous beast released a collective cry as they surged higher into the sky, casting the land in shadows as they obscured the visibly dimming light.


    "Scattered pulse!" I cried out as I watched shadows fall from the sky onto Prick and the others.


    I could not see the shapes winged men hit the legionaries with my eyes, but thanks to my weak pulse, I could get a mental picture of a hundred feet in every direction.


    It was like a flash of lightning, burning through the night and revealing everything around.


    Though a pulse was useful in checking one''s surroundings, it was not that great when tracking thousands of fast-moving objects. A single person putting out enough pulses to track a moving object is mentally draining and burns up a lot of mental energy, but not so a group in Unity.


    For a group our size, it was typical for different members to release mental pulses half to a quarter of a second while not in combat.


    It wasn''t as good as seeing it with my eyes, but I did get a clear picture of how the eight legionaries were killed. Not that I wanted it.


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    The beastkin first came in from the west side, thrusting their spears at the three running on that side. They slammed their spears halfway into the legionaries before driving them to the ground. With a jerk ripping their spears free and a flap of their wings, the three beastkin shot over and to the sides of the remaining legionaries.


    Panicked in the darkness and certainty of danger, the legionaries whirled towards the cries of pain. It was just in time for them to stand still and be distracted as more beastkin dropped from the night sky. The beastkin drove the men to the ground as they buried their spears into the legionaries'' chests.


    I tracked the darker shadows in the night as they rose from their kills, their yellow and green eyes shining in the night. With a flap of their wings, the beastkin vanished into the night skies once more.


    As I tried to track the glowing eyes, I turned my head towards the sky.


    It was like I looked at a river of tens of thousands of fireflies migrating through the darkness overhead.


    But they weren''t fireflies. And any beauty I might have felt from the sight was overshadowed by the cold claws of fear squeezing my heart.


    A fear fed by the nearly deafening sound of a rushing wind stirred up by five thousand flapping wings passing overhead.


    And the trainees knew what I felt. I could feel the same despair trying to lodge itself inside of me, bubbling up inside of them. But I would not be overwhelmed by fear.


    "Increase the pulses." I calmly sent down my mental network, "All we have to do is last until the bunker is built. They won''t waste their time on us when they have far easier and more important targets at camp." I was confident of what I sent them, which the trainees could feel through the mental contact.


    After they spent a moment thinking, the legionaries started hoping they might actually survive this as they came to similar conclusions. There is something to be said for being unimportant grunts.


    Besides, how many beastkin will die just to kill us? They have to see we''re somewhat prepared. No way that''s wor¡ª


    I stepped to my right and slightly turned my body left while forming a small shield over my chest. A moment later, I grunted in effort and was forced to plant a foot behind me as a spear deflected off my shield.


    Taking a step diagonally forward and to the left, I dodged the downward thrust of the beastman, trying to spear me through the back.


    Lunging to the left, I made an upward diagonal slash from right to left, reinforcing my blade''s momentum with a mental strand. My blade gutted the beastwoman before I kept the slash going, splintering one of her spears and knocking the other wide as it thrust aimed at my shield-mate.


    The same moment I lunged to the left, the shield-mate I was covering slammed his sword through the back of the beastman attacking me, then ripped it out, slicing through the beastman''s spine.


    From one moment to the next, we had fluidly traded spots and killed our first attackers. And all around the pit, we were not the only ones who performed such maneuvers from the sudden attack.


    Unfortunately, despite how similar the scenes were, they all didn''t end with a beastkin bleeding out on the dusty ground.


    In the back of my mind, I noted every death. But there was no time to acknowledge the casualties, let alone mourn what could have been. What I should have changed¡­


    Every legionary sent out pulses of mental energy as fast as they could gather it. Flashes of my surroundings appeared in my mind so often that it was nearly like I was seeing in the darkness of dusk.


    Crouching down, I sent a mental strand over and behind my head. I held the stand hovering in place for a beat, waiting.


    As I felt the mental strand connect and wrap around the center of a net flying toward me, I guided it slightly higher so its edge wouldn''t catch on my head and spun it.


    Feeling the wind of the net''s passage, I started to stand. When it was three feet in front of me, the net caught on the two spears of a beastkin driving for my chest.


    The net caught on the spear tips and then started twisting around the shafts, throwing the trajectory of the spears and the one holding them off course due to the net''s weight. Within a moment of the net connecting with the spears, it spiraled forward, wrapping around the arms and then the torso of the beastman.


    With its wings no longer able to extend, the beastkin crashed into the ground and started tumbling forward.


    The newest mental pulse caught my attention, and I stopped my step forward to drive my sword through the tumbling beastkin and into the ground.


    Stepping to my left again, I fainted with my sword at a beastkin rushing forward, making her pull back. It allowed my shield-mate to recover from covering her left-side shield-mate.


    At the same time, I formed a small angled shield placing it where I just was, deflecting the thrown spear aimed for my back down into the tumbling beastman.


    Stepping back into place after the tumbling beastman passed, I deflected a charging beastwoman''s spear. But without a shield or another sword, I could not block the second spear driving for my gut. Not without stepping out of line, which I would rather die than do. Wonder if I can take it in the forear¡ª


    Smile twitching at my lips, I twisted my blade around the spear shaft as I slightly twisted my body and thrust forward, leaving myself open to a spear in the side by his other hand.


    As I shifted, a fist-sized rock brushed past my cloak and under my arm from below, smashing into the beastkin''s shoulder, halting his thrust.


    The look of pained surprise only lasted a moment, then my short sword was sheathed into the beastkin''s neck, sending blood fountaining into my eyes and obscuring my vision.


    As I began rubbing at my face, I took a step back, taking a defensive crouch with my sword still up and ready.


    Even as I rubbed at the eye splattered with more of the almost hot beastkin''s blood, I tried to keep the other open, looking out at the darkness. Not that I needed vision, but not being able to see and having blood in the eyes was a distraction I didn''t want.


    I could see streaks of yellow flashing past ten feet above the plains off in the distance. There were so, so many beastkin out there, and we were decreasing by the second.


    Letting out a pulse, I twisted and jumped to my right side as I pulled it from my face and stuck it straight out.


    Stiff arming my shield-mate on my right side, I made him stumble forward as I thrust upward.


    I felt my blade meet a slight resistance before the resistance seemed to pop, and my blade easily slid upward as I fished my thrust.


    "Ahhh!" I screamed as I felt something slam through my left forearm, and more unnaturally hot blood rained down over my head.


    As I stepped back, unfurling a mental tendril to push aside the falling body so I could keep my blade, it only took me a single pulse to take in the situation and decide.


    "Fallback!" I sent and shouted at the same time. "To the bunker!"


    Taking two quick steps back, I fell into the pit, absorbing the fall with a slight bend of the knees.


    As I hit the ground, I sent out tendrils snatching up the fist-size rocks lining the walls of the pit. While two of the diggers were trying their best in the center of the hole, they were too tired to propel more than one of the rocks with lethal force.


    Snatching up six rocks, I propelled them out of the pit at the three beastkin diving down, trying to land inside with us. The rocks whistled into the air, forcing the beastkin to swoop to the side or be hit.


    "Go!" I shouted and motioned to the passage behind me, signaling the legionaries dropping into the pit to rush forward and enter it, "Get inside!"


    Grabbing another six stones, I started razing them up the side of the pit while I spun them in a spiral. Picking up the rotational speed, I rotated the stones faster and faster, stopping their upward movement five feet above the lip of the hole.


    Holding them at the same height, second after second passed, and the whistling noise marking the rocks'' passage built up as I used up most of my mental energy, rotating them.


    Someone released a larger-than-normal pulse of mental energy, revealing the surrounding area, which let me rapidly release the stones one after another. Nearly instantly after I released the stones, I heard a series of meaty, wet thwacks followed by screams of agony.


    Stumbling back, I tried to walk to the cave mouth as my mind swirled at the mental effort of speeding up the stones.


    Throwing a glance to the night sky, I saw the first signs of dim silver moonlike breaking through the darkness. It wouldn''t get that much brighter as it was little more than a crescent moon, but at least it was something.


    I could already feel myself regaining strength, but I was already falling, only to be caught in someone''s arms.


    Within a second, I was pulling myself free of the arms and standing on my own feet.


    I looked at the blood-smeared face of Kathren, the woman I kicked to wake up in camp, giving her a tired nod of thanks as I said, "Got something on your face, might want to clean it up a bit before you try to sweep men off their feet again."


    She gave a snort of a laugh before snapping back, "Ha! Like you''re one to talk Instructor. At least now you finally have some color on your face."


    A thin smile twitched at my lips as I shuffled forward through the three duos of legionaries guarding the tunnel to a small cave.


    Well, it wasn''t that small. It was ten feet in diameter, but that was still pretty cramped for twelve people.


    I moved to the center of the stone room before I sat down with a grunt of relief before crossing my legs.


    As counterintuitive as it might seem, it was harder to hold Unity together without the heat of battle. There were too many stray thoughts. And as the core of the network, it was my job to keep it together until we no longer needed it.


    I mentally readied myself for a long night of meditation and focus.

 Chapter 17

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    We had thought ourselves stronger than ever. Invincible from all this land could throw at us other than the elves.


    It was proven that the pressure that the 1st Legion released on the city with more than worth our losses. So the 2nd and 3rd Legions marched out of Olimpia''s gates.


    Life in Olimpia and its surroundings had gotten to the point that the waves of beastmen crashing against the walls of The Gauntlet were hardly noticed.


    And the beastmen that were a problem came from the west and north, far to the sides of where we could attract them.


    The solution was easy: place two more forts far to the sides of The Gauntlet. They should be able to attract the beasts slipping around our edges, making a barrier to protect the city.


    We thought we could nearly close off the city. Attract every beast, so the 4th Legion would hardly need to act for the few stray beasts that got by us.


    And for a whole week after we constructed the supporting forts, it worked perfectly.


    Then the beasts stopped.


    From one day to the next, the nearly hourly attacks stopped.


    At first, we were relieved about the break, and we reinforced our fort more than ever.


    As days passed, we became increasingly anxious, as nothing came. Our scouts went out farther and farther as they found nothing. Then one day, they came back with a story of a beastmen hoard that stretched to the horizon and blotted out the sun''s light.


    **********


    In. Then out.


    One slow, steady breath after another.


    In. Out.


    Smooth the ripples threatening to destabilize the mental network, then breathe again.


    In. Out.


    Images would occasionally flash through my mind. A snapshot of perspective from one of the legionaries in the mental network or a pulse of mental energy.


    I felt the bright minds of the beastkin standing around the pit and the outlines of bodies carpeting the floor of the hole and around its edges.


    Breathe, and check the ripples. Send my confidence and relaxed state to the troops.


    They were anxious. They were angry and wanted to rush out and fight. It was to be expected.


    No one likes feeling trapped and out of control. And we were.


    The scout trainees knew all they could do was wait for the end. One way or another, this situation would end, and we were not the ones who would decide how.


    If the beastkin wanted to kill us, they would. Everyone knew it.


    I tried to send the trainees the relaxed, calm state of my meditation. The results were mixed.


    Even as I tried to release my mental state into the network, the group''s emotions bled into me. My heartbeat began picking up its pace as my sympathetic anxiety and agitation grew. In and out. Breathe¡­ nice and slow. Calm and in control. I thought to myself.


    I saw through Traig''s eyes as he sat with his back against the wall and looked at the three still figures laid out on the ground against the far wall. They had died from their wounds, and a feeling of guilty relief tour through Traig before settling down as he closed his eyes for a moment of rest.


    I breathed, trying to calm my once again racing heart, and time passed.


    Then I felt the frantic energy surge through the mental links again, swamping my efforts to spread a calm, soothing atmosphere.


    The legionaries stood, hands clutching the hilt of their swords as those in the front of the tunnel frantically fought.


    A pulse revealed a group of twenty or more beastkin attacking our little cave.


    Not that the weight of numbers mattered much because only one or two beastkin could attack our passage at a time. And with the combined efforts of the veterans, one beastman could hardly even be called a fight, but that did not stop the frustrated emotions of those standing at the back watching.


    I tried to send out waves of calmness and patients to those waiting, but they were quickly drowned out and ignored by their raging emotions. As the mental network of The Union became more chaotic, flashes of people''s vision flickered through my mind.


    I stabbed out low, drawing the beastman''s guard while a stone slammed into their shoulder, and my shield mate slashed the beastmans neck open.


    The legionary in front of me was breathing hard from fighting. She was too tired. In silent coordination, she turned, sliding back while a sword arm thrust out, covering her retreat.


    I held a rock in my hand. Lifting it up, I extended a mental strand wrapping it around the rock before shooting it forward, causing a beastwoman to block it with her wing, covering her face, and causing an opening for an attack.


    The death toll of the beastkin mounted, and now the bodies in the pit were stacked up to the knee of those at the front. It was good that the beastkin would have to spend time clearing out the dead or have treacherous footing, but we had our own problems. Our tunnel acted as a drain for the blood, making our footing slippery as the mud thickened.


    With no way to bring their advantages to bear, the beastkin could hardly make an attack before falling to our blades and stones.


    Hardly was the keyword, though. Even with their guts spilling onto the ground and a sword through the chest, the beastkin would still jab their spears forward, wounding my legionaries.


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    And as the legionaries were forced to step out of the tunnel to finish off our attackers, they would have to deflect spears and stones thrown at them by those around the pit, not all of which were blocked.


    Wounds were building up. And as minutes passed, the mass of beastkin above us never left or seemed to lessen, matter how many we killed.


    We could even feel a short attempt to dig down to us before they gave up.


    Emotions were high, and exhaustion and constant anxiety were taking a toll.


    I tried to suppress and smooth out the emotions, but I was only a single person, and my reservoir of mental power was less than any of the others. As I used up my energy, their weight on the network affected it more than I could counteract, and I was beginning to lose control.


    Then, The beasts looked up, and the assault on our little cave stopped.


    For a brief moment, everyone was elated.


    We were no longer being attacked and could leave the bunker.


    But as the sounds of our grunts of effort and our blades ringing against wood died, the sounds of a distant battle found their way to us. We could clearly make out the screams, shouts, and explosions of a raging battle.


    And more than that, there was a tension in the air. Building upon itself.


    Something big was happening, and we were doing nothing. Our situation was gnawing on our emotions and strangling the air out of our chests.


    Ripples from different people''s emotions spread through the mental network, amplifying each other as they came into contact. As the legionaries'' fears and jagged emotions fed upon each other, peaks of emotion exploded out of my control.


    I tried to stamp down on the peaks. To send out emotions counter to what everyone was feeling, but my efforts were fruitless.


    "Ahh!" I gasped as I lost control of the Union, slumping to the side and then to the ground.


    I lay still for long moments as my mind reordered itself. The backlash from losing control hurt, but I had suffered worse before. And though my mental energy was little more than a few specks floating in my mind, I really wasn''t that tired. Not physically, at least.


    After a bit, I got up and looked around.


    Everyone was facing the passageway of the bunker, and those whose turn it was to stand in the tunnel, had retreated back into the chamber.


    I could feel and see why they retreated. There was something in the air. An energy prickled at our skin like a static charge of a thunderstorm. Except there was no thunderstorm. And a pale yellow light flickered at the front of the passage.


    It was¡­ not natural.


    None of the trainees knew what it was, but we could instinctually tell it wasn''t friendly.


    I could taste the fear radiating from their minds.


    But the energy was¡­ familiar to me. I had felt it before. And I wanted to know what it was.


    I had to know. I had a duty to find out.


    Getting up, I looked towards the passage calling out, "Move."


    I didn''t shout or even talk loud. But in the strained silence of the cavern, half the trainees jumped while the others dropped to a crouch as they spun around, raising their swords towards me in a challenge.


    Ignoring them, I pushed through the mass of people, my eyes fixed on the exit.


    Some might have said something and pulled on my cloak, but I brushed them off. I could feel something. It was calling to me.


    I walked up and out of the tunnel, stepping over and on the bodies of beastkin filling the pitfall, not even giving them a second look.


    At the edge of the blood-soaked pit, I grabbed it and pulled myself up onto the level ground of the plains.


    A ring of bodies circled the pit from where we first fought, most of them beastkin, but there were legionaries intermingled. Besides the bodies, though, there was nothing else around nearby.


    Looking up, my arms fell to my sides, and shock filled my mind.


    The night sky was burning.


    A half a mile away, above the smoke-filled air of the fish camp, a vortex of boiling yellow fire churned, and at its core was a ball of liquid spinning gold.


    All around the massive ball of fire, thousands upon thousands of beastkin flew in a circle. From the light of the fire, I could see columns of twisting wind spiraling into the flame that started at the edges of the beastkin flock.


    At the center of the flock of beastkin, floating in the air between the flock and the ball of fire, was seven figures. Their arms were stretched out to the ball, and I could see bars of liquid golden fire stretching between them and the ball.


    As I watched, the ball of flame grew larger. Brighter.


    I could hear the shuffling and murmuring of the trainees behind me, but I paid them no mind. To tear my eyes away from this terrible beauty would be impossible.


    The sphere-shaped ball of fire was slowly expanding, forcing the figures feeding it to slowly drift back along with the flock circling around it.


    Occasionally, arches of liquid fire would explode from the ball. When the fire went up, the arch could curl into the air until it snapped, and fire exploded outward like a fountain, spraying specks and clumps of fire across the night to rain down.


    When the fire sprayed into the camp, I could see sections of the fire blocked and thrown back into the air, but in most spots, the fire would slam into the ground.


    Even from our distance, I could see and hear the fire hit with such force and intensity that stones and chunks of the earth were thrown into the air.


    Jumping to the side, I looked at the watermelon-sized piece of half-melted and deformed stone that landed ten feet away in shock.


    Looking back to the battle could see streams of arrows fired and thrown spears streaking up into the sky at the beastkin, but it was a waste of effort.


    My eyes caught on the firelight reflecting off the tips of the arrows and spears as they turned toward the ground. A small number of the projectiles had the strength to reach where the beastkin hovered, but most of those were torn out of their path by the savage winds that raged below the beastkin.


    If any of the projectiles had the strength to hurt or kill a beastkin, no one could tell because nothing fell from the sky.


    The ball of flame grew, becoming larger than a mid-sized house, and lit up the grasslands for as far as the eye could see, then it fell.


    From one second to the next, the ball of fire flew down like someone stood over a cliff and threw a rock toward its base.


    In a way, that was exactly what happened. Though it was seven beastkin that threw the fireball downward instead of an individual.


    With a horrified fascination, I watched the ball of fire fall. My breathing hitched in my throat as the catastrophic weapon of war fell on my comrades.


    There was no denying that. If this was not a weapon of war to destroy forts and legions, I would never see one.


    And the fish could do nothing. They were untrained and hel¡ª


    A hundred feet to the ground, a clumped mass of dirt containing the charred scraps of white tents on its surface lifted into the air before shooting toward the descending ball of fire.


    The dirt appeared to be about half the ball of fire''s size, and when the two connected, the outside of the ball of fire rolled over the edge of the dirt ball.


    When the fire had consumed slightly more than the dirt ball''s mass, the fire exploded to the sides and rained down.


    At that moment, the waves of fire began collecting into streams that led to the edges of the fish camps. And figures riding spears of rocks and blades of compressed wind rose into the sky.


    There might have been only three dozen of the steel-clad individuals, but they began throwing stone spears and air blades into the ranks of the beastkin, killing them by the score.


    And if the beastkin swooped lower to attack, flights of arrows and spears would intercept them before they got close.


    I looked at the knights hovering in the air, and a smile spread over my face.


    It wasn''t long before the beastkin turned and flew away into the night towards the northern forest.


    As they streamed away, partially lit up by the burning camp, they left below and behind them, I snapped out of my shocked state.


    Turning, I looked at the gathered trainees behind me.


    "Last chance to leave. If you stay till morning, I will make you into scouts whether you like it or not." With my little speech given, I turned and started walking toward camp. They would need all the help they could get.

 Chapter 18

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    No one believed the report. We couldn''t even conceive of the numbers needed to create such a hoard.


    In desperation, the Legatus sent out more scouts, but the reality of the situation never changed. Only the estimates on the numbers we were facing.


    We had days until they arrived, and even if there was an air of resignation permeating the fort at the news, we would not die without a fight.


    Supplies for everything were called for and received. Food, clothing, leather, mental armor, water, salt, swords, spears, arrows, shields, and lumber poured through the gates in an endless stream of wagons.


    And even though The Gauntlet had wall after wall of interlocking passageways designed to brake up and confuse the beasts, nearly the entire legion was either making earthworks and traps outside the walls or expanding and reinforcing the walls.


    No one thought what we had was enough.


    We even started expanding a network of tunnels underground, the last fallback in case we were pushed to the center of The Gauntlet. Or when, if the numbers of beasts that were being thrown around were accurate.


    After days of frantic work, I remember standing on the walls. Looking at the cohorts outside the walls standing on the earthworks, planning to hold out as long as possible. And feeling my stomach drop out of my chest as the wave of beastmen pouring over the distant ridge of the step never ended.


    It really was a hoard of beastmen a hundred thousand strong.


    **********


    There was only one way to describe what was around me.


    It was a scorched wasteland.


    And I wasn''t even in the camp yet. Smoke hung in the air, and ash swirled along the ground before sweeping into the sky.


    Off in the distance, the rolling hills of grass could be seen burning as flames raged over them.


    Stepping past the berms of the dirt with sharp spears of wood sticking out of the earth, I finally got a good view of the Fish Camp.


    "Ho, the camp! Move aside!" Cracked a commanding voice in the air.


    Jerking out of my numb processing of the destruction, I pushed myself to the sides of the passage between the earthworks as a turma of cavalry thundered past me from behind. All thirty of the men and women glanced at me and my recruits as they passed, but their faces hardly flickered from the grim frowns and determined eyes plastered on them. They had a mission, and I was not a part of it.


    They circled within the first thirty feet of the Fish Camp, churning up the loose dirt. Then an armor-clad figure fell from the sky, thumping to the ground, and walked up to the commander.


    The two spoke for a few minutes before the knight grew a board of stone from the ground and rose into the air, zipping off into the camp and being swallowed by the night once more.


    "Ho!" Shouted the cavalry commander as he held up his saber. As one, the turma of cavalry performed a tight turn and exited the Fish Camp, showing no indications of turning towards The Triad as the horse''s hooves beat against the ground.


    Their eyes were fixed to the east. Locked onto something that could not be seen, both for the night''s darkness and the distance, but they knew it was there and were determined to get there.


    I could guess where they were going. The was only one reasonable destination on the eastern road they were taking, at least in the long distance. And they didn''t appear to be stopping or slowing to patrol around the camp.


    They were headed to Cross to report the attack and call for aid.


    As I tracked the cavalry vanishing into the gloom, I found myself looking at my trainees. ¡°Spread out, search for survivors." Turning, I walked into the camp.


    Within the first few steps, I came across the bodies of dead legionaries. I didn''t even bend over to see if they were alive. Their throats were slashed open, and their chests had gaping wounds, with not even a trickle of blood leaking out.


    No, they were not among the living within this smoldering camp.


    Although there were still burning patches of fire nearly the same color as a gold coin, most of the fires had already been put out. At least those not contained within braziers or burning on torches.


    Within moments of me looking at the still-burning fires, the ground rose up around them before collapsing, snuffing them out. Now, only the moon could be said to be lighting up most of the camp.


    It didn''t bother me, as elves needed little more than the moon''s light to see fine at night.


    Blinking, I let the noise I had been ignoring tear through me. The screams and groans of the wounded and dying scraped at my heart. Get to work, asshole.


    kneeling down, I pulled back a scrap of a tent, revealing a young woman curled up in a slight depression in the ground.


    Her eyes were squeezed shut with pain, and her armed were crossed over her stomach, keeping the broken-off spear shaft sticking out of her gut locked in place.


    Slowly I reached down, touching her arm, causing her to flinch back in fear.


    Eyes snapping open, "Ahh! N¡ª Don¡ª Who¡­ are you?" she screamed in bewildered shock before she frantically searched behind me, ¡°Ar¡ª they gone?"


    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.


    "Yes." I softly said, tugging at her arms, "The beastkin are gone, but I need to get a look at your wound." After a few more soothing words, I managed to pull apart her arms, revealing the base spear shaft.


    Gently, I pressed my finger against the edge of her wound and released a small pulse of mental energy into her body.


    Nodding to myself as a picture formed in my mind, I looked the woman in the eyes, stopping for a moment in surprise before giving my head a shake as I noticed they were violet, "I''m going to remove the shaft. You''re lucky that it somehow managed not to cut your intestines on the way in, but once you start moving around, it''s just a matter of time until it cuts something, and then theirs a good chance no one can help you. You''re not in danger of bleeding out, so it will take hours for the healers to get to you. Bottom line, you''ll be fine so long as we get the spearhead out, okay?"


    Looking at her face, I could tell she did not understand most of what I was saying. Her eyes were clouded with pain.


    With gentle firmness, I pushed her shoulder so she would roll onto her back. Then planted my hand on her sternum as the other grabbed the spear shaft right about her stomach.


    "Stay still," I said soothingly while looking at her increasingly panicked and fear-filled eyes. At her growing emotions, I sent her a pulse of steady confidence and reassurance as I gave her a small smile. "It will hurt slightly, and you will feel an uncomfortable pressure, but it will be over soon." At my words and mental pulse, her erratic breathing slowed, and she gave a short nod that she was ready.


    Forming a mental strand, I layered it around the spear shaft, then slid the now tube down the shaft and spearhead, rounding out any sharp edges. Slowly, I increased the size of the shell of the mental force tube, forcing her intestines to the sides until there was a large enough gap for the spearhead to slide out.


    The moment the hole was wide enough, I pulled the spearhead out in one smooth motion before shrinking the obstruction I formed in her gut. Dropping the spear to the side, I wiped off the sweat forming on my forehead.


    What I had just done had stepped awfully close to exerting mental energy directly on a person. And I didn''t have the power to do that for more than a moment, and that was at full strength. It only worked now because she was willing and in shock.


    She let out a few grunts and whimpers of pain while I worked, but it was hardly noticeable.


    Leaning to the side, I pulled out my knife and then used it to cut away a relatively clean-looking section of the tent that was covering her. Folding it up, I pressed it to her wound before giving her a smile, hold this tightly in place, and you should be fine.


    A grateful smile stretched her pale lips as she said, "Thank you, brother."


    With a start, I looked back, as I had already started to turn away, and I finally noticed her pointed ears.


    A flush of embarrassment rose in my chest as I said, ¡°Ahh~. It seems I forgot my bedside manner. I am Scout Green." I gave her a small bow as I got to my feet.


    "Trainee Luna." She said. "And thank you, Scout Green¡­ Again."


    "No problem," I said, half distracted. I was looking around, and I did not see any area for gathering the wounded. It was right by the main road, so setting up here should be fine. "I''m gonna make this a collection spot for the wounded. Stay still, and we''ll do what we can."


    She acknowledged my words, slowly closing her violet eyes. My eyes were locked on her face for long seconds, even as I knew I had a lot to do.


    Her face shifted from the hard lines of pain to a sharp elegance as she relaxed. She had high cheekbones and razor-thin eyebrows, and I thought her hair color was a dark green. Combined with her violet eyes, she was striking.


    As my body turned, I could no longer keep my eyes on her form, forcing me to pull my eyes away and get back to business.


    Looking around the scorched ground, I looked for anyone nearby.


    "Joxin! Anooha! Come here!" The two looked over at me at the call and started jogging over to me.


    Instead of waiting for them, I began walking as I looked around, taking in my surroundings as a whole.


    Right off the bat, I could take in the main changes to the countryside, as they were blatant. The main gate to the northeastern gate to The Triad was destroyed, nothing more than a pile of collapsed and melted stone. And the center of the Fish Camp looked like a giant decided to dig around for something.


    Long trenches that were multiple full-grown adults deep crisscrossed the area. Other spots were craters thirty feet across and some amount deep because I could not see the bottom from where I was.


    And at the center of all that destruction were four or five cohorts of legionaries still standing in a defensive formation.


    I could feel layers of shields projected around the cohorts as messengers sprinted to and from their ranks. Another small group was trying to repair the ground enough to make a path out of the destruction for the cohorts. And I could only make out that in such detail because some of them were carrying sunlamps lighting up their ranks.


    Around the edges of the destruction, I could see individuals start getting up and stumbling around as they searched for Ancestor knew what. I could even see a completely unharmed tent standing alone at the edge of the camp. Standing as if nothing of consequence had happened as it waited for its owner.


    Whoever was in charge of the new legionaries, no one could call them fish after tonight, must have wanted to keep them together. Together and Unified so they could defend themselves. The beastkin could very well come back at any moment.


    After I thought I had a grasp on the situation, "Joxin, gather up anyone able to run and head back to the fort, find the medicos and grab all the bandages and stretchers you can get, then come back."


    "Instructor!" Joxin said while slamming his fist to his chest before turning and running off, but I paid no attention to him. I had moved on.


    "Anooha, I''m making this a casualty collection point. Tell everyone to bring the critically wounded here. And I need you to find or make basins of water and bring them here from the river¡­ And food, we''re going to need it soon."


    "Instructor!" Anooha said, also slamming her fist to her chest and scurrying off.


    As she ran off to gather people for her task, I started spiraling around my collection point.


    I checked everybody I came across to see if they were still living. And it paid off.


    Within the utter destruction of the camp, the beastkin left a surprisingly large number of people alive. Gut and head wounds were the most common, with spear stabs to the legs coming in third.


    Sure, every third person I came across was dead, but from the quick glance I gave them, it was more often than not from shock and blood loss than a fatal stab.


    It was weird.


    I helped those I could with what I had on hand and moved them to the growing collection of wounded people. When Joxin finally came back with the bandages, stretches, and a few medicos, I started using the stretches to collect those I did want to move under their own power in case they would worsen their wounds.


    The medicos began doing patch jobs on the most critical patients before sending them back to the medico facilities back in The Triad.


    Hours passed in such a manner until the cohorts at the center of camp started marching past us as they made their way to The Triad.


    As the last few centuries passed, two broke off to the sides of the entrance while the last stopped in the center of our gathering.


    "Who''s in command here!" shouted a deep, resonant voice.


    Looking around, I saw that those who reacted to the voice at all ¡ª instead of focusing on their work ¡ª were making sidelong glances at me.


    Sighing, I finished tying off a bandage before standing up and walking toward the voice. "Here!" I shouted, tiredly waving my arm.

 Chapter 19

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    Piles of beastmen bodies carpeted the ground our legionaries were forced to retreat from. And it was a retreat. If the legionaries did not step back, they would be overwhelmed and killed.


    The weight of numbers was too strong, and injuries continued to mount as the hours passed.


    When the outermost ring of earthworks fell, our knights stepped forward, blasting the front ranks of the flood with their elemental powers and pushing the beasts back for the moments the cohorts needed to retreat in good order.


    Less than an hour later, we were forced off the second earthwork, and the knights stepped forward again. They threw their conjured balls and blades of fire, water, earth, wind, and lightning into the massed ranks of beasts, causing their advance to falter.


    Though the second retreat was not as organized as the first, the knight''s efforts were enough for the legionaries to make it back to the third and last line of earthworks.


    But then the birds descended on us, and it was all the knights and archers could do to keep the birds from tearing apart the lines as they fell from the sky.


    Though it was not a constant need, the support of the knights was required to reinforce areas along earthworks with their explosive powers. To stem the tide of breaches in the line as the legionaries reformed.


    Without the knight''s support, the death toll along the line began to mount.


    And the muddy field, already soaked with the blood of the beastmen, had its first real taste of human blood.


    **********


    The older man stood in place, arms crossed, as I walked up to him. He did turn his head slightly as I approached, but he never took a step from where he stopped with his men. Didn''t even really turn his body.


    Giving him a salute, I said, "Centurion."


    I was kind of surprised that he was here. In the Fish Camps, the majority of people, who were not the actual fish, were commanders ¡ª or guard commanders if you are getting technical ¡ª who were the leaders of the squads making up a century.


    Though in a Fish Camp, three commanders are usually placed in charge of anywhere from twenty to a hundred fish to whip them into shape for basic training. However, there was hardly ever a hundred fish in a training group as they were typically broken down into smaller units or had more commanders assigned to help out.


    Within an actual legion, there were around sixty centurions. But in a fish legion, there might be ten, but more likely around five. All of which reported to a single tribune overseeing the camp with his sub-tribunes.


    I hadn''t seen any sign of the tribune, and the two subs and one centurion I saw all had their necks torn out. A stark difference from the usually none serious wounds inflicted on the fish I was finding. Might be taking a leap here¡­ But I think they were targeted.


    Glancing at the long strip of red running along the man''s pants leg, signifying the rank of a centurion, I reassured myself that I wasn''t seeing things. Apparently, the beastkin didn''t do a good enough job disrupting the fish camp''s command, as they missed at least this one.


    I stood, shoulders slightly slumped, as the steal gaze of the man raked over me once before he went back to looking at the wounded all around us.


    "What''s a scout doing here and not looking for the enemy." His voice was calm, but there was steel laced through his words. An iron-clad resolve that others would bend to or be broken by.


    A slight feeling of amusement filled me at his words. He was accusing me of shirking my duty during wartime without actually saying it. It was a legitimate question. Finding a camp in camp was strange.


    Understandable that emotions were high at the moment. Hundreds died, and more than a thousand were wounded. And they were mostly fish.


    I mean, it could be a problem if I was actually shirking my duty, but I wasn''t this time, so I had nothing to be concerned about. Making the comment fall into the amusing category.


    Amusing it might be, but I was too tired for it to affect me.


    "I was training the scout trainees out on the Grounds." I tiredly said, "And when I saw them coming, I sent out the pulse message. Glad it did something," I said, looking over the organized century of men behind the centurion.


    "Humph." The man grunted and gave me a look of surprise and slight skepticism, "That was you?" He asked, and I felt a slight brush against my mind as he sent out a tendril of energy. ¡°Huh¡­ Thought for sure whoever sent that would die. Too far from camp."


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    I knew he wasn''t questioning my claim, as his tendril would have felt the same signature as the message from me. If he knew enough to look, he could sense the difference.


    A brief smile of pride flashed on my face at his tone of mild surprise before I answered his unasked question. "We gathered around the pitfalls and had a team dig out a bunker while the rest of us held them back. Once the bunker was made, it was easy to hold out with our swords and new ammunition."


    The man let out a grunt of approval as he asked, "You used the compressed dirt from digging as ammunition? Haven''t heard of that trick being used in decades."


    "Yes, Centurion. My dad told me of it from his time in the 16th."


    "He was in the trenches at Mara''s Gorge?"


    "No, he was one of the scouts working the cliffs." I said with more than a hint of pride.


    "Damn," The older man drew out the word while giving me a look that could almost be called respect and was definitely a reappraisal of my skills. "Not many scouts made it through that mess. Not that those of us in the trenches did much better. Though they damn well always needed us to save their asses when they got caught coming back with their reports. What was his name, I might know him.¡±


    There was an air of normalcy in the air between us, and it was spreading outwards as we spoke.


    ¡°His name was Speckle. And I wouldn''t know about that you saving anyone. But my father always said that without the scouts collapsing the cliff face, the right flank would have been overrun long before relief ever came. He always told me how the grunts couldn''t ever seem to hold a trench ''longer than a damn hour''." At the end, I tried to mimic my father''s voice.


    ¡°Hmm? I don¡¯t recall him. And is that what he told you?" He asked, his mustache twitching in what might be a smile.


    "Well, my experience might be limited and relatively recent, but from what I have learned, holding a trench or tunnel isn''t that hard. So I could understand his opinion if the grunts were having an overly hard time lasting."


    "Huff! Complete and utter Kawra crap!" He said with a sweep of his arm, gesturing behind him. "These legionaries aren''t even half-trained, and I bet you''ll drop before long them! Though I do appreciate you doing the easy part and informing us of the enemy. A little more warning would be nice, though."


    There was a rustle of movement as the century behind him stuck out their chests in pride and nodded in agreement with the Centurion''s statement.


    "You might be right. I''m feeling a little tired," I said, making a show of rolling my shoulders and yawning, "I should take my trainees and go, still need to teach them how to waltz through a forest properly and finding pleasant beds of moss to sleep all day on. You know, scout stuff."


    "Leaving these fine boys and me all the hard work of picking up this mess?"


    "You know what they say, Centurion."


    "Scouts are only around when there''s no work, or they got bad news?"


    I saluted him before taking a few steps back, saying, "Took the words right out of my mouth, Centurion. I got no more bad news, and to me, this looks like hard work."


    With that, I spun and shouted over the growing grumbles, jeers, and snickering of the century behind me, "Scout trainees! Gather at the camp''s entrance. We''re leaving!"


    Behind me, more and louder jibes and jeers were thrown out as it became apparent that I really was leaving, but I ignored them. It would defeat the whole point of the conversation with the Centurion if I tried to punish them after all.


    ¡°What¡¯s your name scout?¡± The centurion call to me as I left.


    ¡°Scout Green.¡± I called over my shoulder as I kept walking headed towards the exit. I figured out pretty fast what the Centurion wanted when he first called me over.


    It wasn''t a report on the wounded and dead. Anything of that nature would be too soon to be accurate. And while he was trying to take over command of the wounded collection area, he was also looking for a conversation to lighten the mood of the troops and maybe put some fire inside them.


    Since I was a scout and was basically outside of the common command structure, and with the well-known tension between scouts and legion grunts, it was a perfect chance.


    Besides, I was wasting my time here. Someone needed to help out and set up a casualty collection point, but everything was already rolling, and others could take over. I had other things to do.


    Either I would be training the potential scouts to the limit they could bare, or we would all head out into the forest for real scouting. Those were the only options, and the sooner I found out which one would be demanded of me, the sooner I could rest and prepare for what was to come.


    I watched as the Centurion started handing out duties to the squads of the century and anyone that looked like they were standing around.


    Three of the squads he told to help the wounded and carry those on stretches back to The Triad, while the rest he sent out searching for wounded in the destruction.


    Any and everyone could hear his voice barking over the groans of the wounded as he set a fire under their asses to get to work.


    As the Centurion took control of the chaos, word spread that I had called for my trainees to gather at the entrance. And those who didn''t hear my shout and immediately wrapped up what they were doing and joined me quickly heard the grumbles of the legionaries about me and sought me out.


    Once we were all gathered, I led them out of the Fish Camp and along the dirt road leading from the camp to The Triad.


    The road was only half a mile long, and even in the moon''s dim light, we were quickly covering the distance.


    Halfway, when the din of the wounded faded and the shouts and noise of reconstructing the main entrance to the northeastern fort were building, I spoke to the trainees.


    "We are heading to the scout section of the barracks inside Fort Fish. You will settle in and rest, and in the morning, I will tell you what to expect. Understood?"


    "Yes, Instructor!" Shouted a chorus of voices. At least their actually treating me like an Instructor now. Silver lining, I guess.


    As I turned and continued to walk, I internally groaned. I wanted to find a bunk and sleep, but I still needed to find out what we were supposed to do.


    Fucking hate being in command, I complained to myself.

 Chapter 20

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    Like always, the hoard rushed forward, clawing their way up the now undefended earthen berm and throwing themselves from its top into the legionaries'' ranks.


    Although disruptive, one or even ten beastmen could be handled. They would cause a momentary break of a line, perhaps they would flail around, sending out a few slashes before they were brought down by the legionaries, and that''s all.


    When there were dozens and then hundreds of beastmen falling into the ranks while thousands more pushed on the frontlines, there was no chance of holding.


    The lines began to fracture.


    Even though the legionaries remained within Unity, they could not gather enough focused strength to reform their units.


    As the lines disintegrated, a scrambling retreat started.


    They tried to help each other as they raced to the lift-off points at first, but as soon as someone slowed, they were nearly instantly overwhelmed. It became a chaotic free for all.


    No, there was no more fighting for the third line, only surviving to fight again within the gauntlet.


    The legionaries ran, and when they reached the base of the gauntlet''s walls, they finally collected against its base.


    There was no other choice. They stood on massive slabs of granite, struggling against the torrent of beastmen.


    Legionaries struggled to hold out as more piled onto the platforms. Eventually, the decision was made that it was more costly for the legionaries to maintain their position than they would gain by those still retreating, and the platforms lifted into the air.


    **********


    I glided through the dark streets slipping from one shadow to the next. It was the easiest way to travel, even if I had to climb up onto the occasional building.


    Squads of legionaries were stationed at intersections and marching down streets along with frantic messengers and wagons filled with wounded and supplies rushing down the roads.


    It was apparent that most people had seen the giant sphere of fire hovering in the air surrounded by beastkin and were understandably scared. The panic was so thick it was like I could smell it in the air. Not that I needed to smell it, as it pressed on my mind like a boulder.


    I was not alone in that fact. Everyone was on edge as the atmosphere pressed on their minds, feeding upon itself and growing ever larger. Causing people to lash out at those around them for the slightest offense or mistake.


    Shouts filled the night, and squads of legionaries were stopping individuals in cloaks or those who looked like they were rushing around to search them.


    Slipping past everyone so no one would stop me was easier and faster. If someone did stop me slinking along the rooftops and through alleys, it would cause quite a problem, but it hadn''t happened yet.


    As I made my way through the fort, I dropped into an alley and stepped out onto the bustling street, looking at a packed courtyard.


    Ranks of legionaries stood in front of the gates blocking the entrance to the bridge. I could see more centuries marching over the bridge to join their compatriots already lined up in the courtyard.


    On my side of the square, I saw a group of seven men gathered together, talking as they gestured in various directions.


    Even as I took in the assembled men and women, I felt a prickle against my skin and mind, and the Prime, who had his back to me, partially turned, making eye contact, and waved me over.


    Walking across the street and into the moonlight, I took in the gathering cohort. It was the First Cohort. The standards scattered around, and the Eagle of the 15th legion gleaming even in the weak moonlight made that very clear.


    The few faces that I could make out under their steel helmets and cheek guards were filled with indignant determination. And in their eyes, there was a boiling rage.


    It was a stark contrast from the demoralized fear filling the streets. And the barracks I left my scout trainees in.


    By the time we made it across the wall on the makeshift lifts and walked through the northwestern fort to the scout section, there wasn''t a single one of my trainees walking by themselves. Everyone was leaning on someone else for support as they appeared to drunkenly stumble forward.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    And even when they arrived at the barracks, with this section of the fort basically being mothballed for decades, they were forced to sleep on dust-covered bear stone bunks. Not that anyone complained; they were just happy to have a place to collapse.


    I could feel their despair under their mindless obedience to my commands. Their fear.


    But the veterans of the 15th''s First Cohort had none of those negative emotions filling them. They weren''t beaten down by exhaustion, even if I could see more than a few with suspiciously dark stains on their armor.


    There was resolve in their eyes, with determination and confidence filling their hearts, which put some steel back in my spine, making me feel a little lighter as I walked.


    My footsteps picked up the pace for the last few steps to the Prime, and I snapped off a salute that no one could take issue with before falling into a ready position.


    "Prime, reporting a¡ª


    "Enough of that, Green. We don''t have time for it. What can you tell me about what happened in the Fish Camp?" The Prime said, cutting me off.


    Taking a moment, I ordered my thoughts on the events before responding. "A flock of between two to three thousand bird beastkin attacked the Fish Camp at sunset. They used the sun as cover for their approach, and it was only by coincidence I was outside of camp at the training grounds and spotted their approach. The couple minutes of warning I gave allowed the camp enough time not to be completely flat-footed. Can''t say exactly what happened within the first hour of the attack, as me and my trainees were trapped in a bunker, but when we came out, there was a massive ball of fire in the air with the beastkin flying around it. The gathered cohorts were able to hold off the fireball when it fell, and the knights discouraged the beastkin from staying afterward. About twenty-five hundred fish survived uninjured¡­" I trailed off at the end of my report, and the Prime gave me a piercing look.


    "You have something more to say. Spit it out."


    ¡°¡­The beastkin had arms, and they only tried to wound the fish."


    Scoffs of disbelief and scorn sounded from the surrounding centurions and tribunes. But the Prime''s eyes only narrowed slightly as a look of consideration appeared on his face, "Explain."


    "When I first saw the birds with arms a few days ago, they were half-formed like a child''s arms placed onto an adult. Now they looked¡­ normal. More than that, the beastkin looked¡­ more human. If that is the right way to say it. I don''t know. It was like I wasn''t looking at an animal with some human features but a human with some animal features. It was just something different about them. And for the wounded, only the Principales, like the centurions and commanders, were stabbed in the chest and neck. The fish mainly had gut and leg wounds and only died due to blood loss."


    A moment passed, and someone thumped into the ground behind me. Then a high-pitched voice said, "What good is that information? So the beastkin look a little different, and some fish have a gut wound. Really, is that what you''re concerned about, Twiggy? Why don''t you scamper off while we have a real conversation."


    My back stiffened, and blood began to fill my ears as irritation began to fill me. I would recognize Lukus''s voice anywhere. As his clomping footsteps passed me, I felt the slightest shake of the ground.


    It wasn''t from the weight of his steel-plated armor ¡ª though that was nothing to scoff at ¡ª but the earth reacting to his presence passing over it and the attributed power radiating off him.


    The chest of his armor had a diagonal streak of red with lines of brown and green running through its middle. The lines signified that Lukus was a knight of earth and wind and able to control both like I could a mental strand of force. Or if you are being technical, a knight terra and ventus.


    Try as I might, putting an elemental aspect into my power was not something I could overcome through force of will and effort. Like everything in the world, it came down to power, and I was lacking far too much to be able to even dream of becoming a knight.


    Doesn''t mean I have to like the pricks that seem to fill their ranks, though. I thought to myself as I imagined tripping him.


    I might have done it if the Prime wasn''t a few feet from me. And I thought I could get away with it. I''ve done it before, and the chance will come again. I reassured myself.


    As I was mentally planning my next revenge on the knight, a soft voice spoke, stopping Lukus in his tracks and my thoughts. "He brings up an important point, Knight, and has the courage to speak his mind to his superiors. Such initiative should not be casually suppressed. Not to mention any report of a scout shouldn''t be taken lightly."


    Using all my willpower, I kept my face as calm and still as a pond in the early morning.


    Lukus stood with his mouth open, one knee bent in a half-finished step. After an awkward moment, he finished his step and shuffled over to stand with the rest of the collective while I stood separately, arms to my sides at attention as I faced the Prime. No one dared to move after the voice spoke, as we could all tell it wasn''t done.


    From the corner of my eye, I saw a small figure appears. She was a full head shorter than those gathered but held herself with a surety and air of command that could not be denied. "In the span of days, a subspecies of beastkin supposedly grew arms. And the claims of strange powers they supposedly wield can no longer be denied, and more than that, they are showing signs of using strategies. The northeastern fort was attacked by enough wolven beastkin to draw our attention long enough to prevent a reaction to the attack on the fish camp. And now we find out that they are flooding our healers with wounded fish, that, in all honestly, will hardly make a difference in the coming battle. Then exhausting our healers will do far more for the beastkin than slaughtering them all out right."


    By now, the gathered leaders of the cohort had formed a semi-circle around the Prefect with me on the far end, a step to the side.


    Her cold hard eyes slid over us before sliding over the gathered troops behind us.


    "So," She said, continuing her speech, "just because you cannot see the importance of a report does not mean it isn''t pertinent information. With everything that has transpired tonight, it is impossible to deny that we are facing a beastwave far more dangerous than in our recorded history. One that can think. And I think there isn''t a single better legion than the fifteenth to stop its advance!"


    At her last shouted words, and they rang across the square. Causing the men and women of the first cohort to shout, stomp their feet, and slamming their fists to their chests in response.


    "Now," Her voice normal again, "Let''s get down to business."


    Everyone gathered together to talk, and my eyes flicked to Lukus. I could not stop the smallest smile from quirking my lips at his red face. A rebuke by a superior will do that to one with an ego like his.

 Chapter 21

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    Even as the platforms lifted off, the gathered legionaries struggled to hold as their comrades and enemies rushed forward. The fighting did not slow for a second.


    An intermingled charge of legionaries and beastmen threw themselves at the platform as it rose into the air and desperately clawed at its edge.


    Humans and beastmen alike latched onto it, nails digging at the stone to pull themselves up. But for every human hanging off the edge, two more were beastmen.


    Before the legionary''s comrades could bend over and reach down to pull them up, a beastmen would leap onto their backs and rip their hands from the stone as the beastman pulled them to the ground in a tangled mass. Within a moment, another beastman would have taken their place hanging off the platform''s edge, snarling at the bent-over legionary.


    And the legionaries standing on the platforms, who tried to save just one more of their brethren, could only take out their fury and guilt on the hanging beastmen.


    As the platforms leveled off at the battlements and the legionaries filed onto the walls, tens of thousands of beasts howled and roared below at their escape.


    And then screamed in fear as the stone platforms fell onto their heads.


    **********


    I stood in the doorway, with the first rays of the morning''s light slipping past me into the long hallway.


    The light revealed the smooth, dusty ground marred by the shapes of footprints heading down the hallway and into the rooms on either side of the passage.


    Faintly, I could hear the sounds of snores and the slight rustling of clothing as people moved around in their sleep.


    Reaching out to my right, my hand wrapped around a rope, the coarse fibered pressing against my palm for a long second before I pulled down. At first, there was a definite resistance as I pulled before I stopped at a muffled clake, and the rope was dragged back into the air along with my hand.


    The rope reached an upward apex, and I assisted with its downward motion again, causing the definite clang to peal out into the barracks.


    I continued to pull on the rope connected to the bell over my head.


    Even though I could only faintly hear the groans and shouts to stop the noise, I was amused by the figures stumbling out of the doorways. More than a few had bloodshot eyes and scowls plastered onto their faces.


    I could easily imagine being woken up in a similar way. In fact, I could remember. I was in the legion, after all. It was not an uncommon event, and I would much rather be the one waking everyone up than the other way around.


    Their glairs would soothe my weary mind as I was forced to be awake at this forsaken hour. As they slowly began trickling down the hallway, I stopped pulling on the bell to walk outside and wait for everyone.


    I could still feel their looks of annoyance, but I did not care. They were not the only ones operating on a few hours of sleep.


    After I happened to overhear the planning session of the tribunes and centurions, I was given my orders and sent off to get some sleep.


    The only surprising part of the whole experience, other than me being able to be near it ¡ª though I was technically the leader of the scouts in the Northwestern Fort at the moment with no one else around ¡ª was that we got word that a few scouts returned at the end, calling the Prefect back to command.


    The messenger didn''t know what the scout was reporting, but she got the sense that the Legatus was not pleased.


    With my orders already given, I found myself walking back to the barracks to get some rack time before morning came. Which came all too soon for my tastes and the trainees, if I could interpret their expressions at all.


    Once they were all gathered in front of the building, I began speaking. "I guess that all of you and lucky. The Prefect of the 15th decided that you all don''t need to be trained and are honorary members of the scouts. As such, we will all leave this morning to scout along the Rush''s western side and into the Northern Forest''s southern end."


    My words were met with incredulous silence. I understood why.


    Everyone who was accepted into the scout training program was already capable. Usually, they came from family backgrounds where they spent time running around the woods as kids.


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    Preferably they would be the kids of hunters like my father, who would show them some tricks. Also, those who grew up on the streets of a major city and learned some of the trade of being a thief were good candidates.


    They would have to be taught a few more tricks and have habits beaten out of them, but they had the instincts.


    The other category of people who joined the scouts were those with strong mental powers. Well, not that strong. They couldn''t be knights or anything, but they were definitely stronger than average. And could usually pull off feats like Markus, where they can enhance their bodies to superhuman levels or perform mental attacks for a short period.


    Everyone still alive after yesterday fell into the category of being sneaky. Those that would have been part of the second group probably died with Prick as they raced to join me. I guess one or two could have been killed as we fought around the pit, but I didn''t think so.


    Those with power usually came from the minor nobility or those in the upper levels of the citizenry. All of which took offense to those of a lesser status giving them orders.


    And this wasn''t me just assuming that every one of status ignored my command and died. While we were in unity, I got enough of a feeling for everyone''s mental energy pools that I could tell that no one else had a significant level of power.


    I guess someone can be a member of the lower nobility, but if they had these levels of power as nobility, there was no way they would have an ego and cause a problem. There was nothing a noble hated more than weak nobles that made the nobles as a whole look bad.


    So I had to assume ¡ª hope really ¡ª that everyone here had some level of experience running around a forest. But there was a big difference between tracking a deer through the woods and searching for beastkin warbands.


    And being competent as a scout takes months of training to build the foundation for skills that need years of practice to perfect. Or a level of control and a pool of mental energy to properly utilize the mental workings we scouts practiced with minimal exposure and experience.


    I seriously doubted they had either of those requirements, at least to the level needed to leave and return to the camp, and from the looks on their faces and body language, they agreed.


    Moments passed, and finally, Joxin spoke up, ¡°Sir¡­ we''re not ready. Bloody crows, we haven''t even been taught anything yet!"


    There was a bit of hysteria in his words, and I nodded in agreement. "You''re not, and you haven''t been."


    Everyone seemed a bit taken aback by my words as if I couldn''t see the truth right in front of my face.


    "But that doesn''t matter." I continued. "We are on the brink of battle, and the fifteenth needs all the information we can get. Last I heard, one scout returned. Maybe more have shown up, maybe not. Doesn''t matter. The legion does not have enough. So anyone even moderately skilled will be pushed into the position. You lot at better off than most, as you have me. And I will teach you what I can."


    The fifteen trainees did not look convinced or reassured, but they would have to get over it and move on.


    "We have our orders, and we will follow them," I said, looking them all in the eye one after another showing them my resolve.


    After that, I took the trainees over to grab some hot food before leading them to the supple tribune getting them the right gear. While legion grunt armor was good for standing shoulder to shoulder in a shield wall, it was not ideal for moving around in a forest unnoticed.


    Those with experience with a bow were given one, while those without experience were given spikes. Which were six-inch long solid metal spearheads with a small four-inch handle and loop on the back.


    Anyone who had even picked up a rock and thrown it around with a mental strand of force could use one to some degree. Though those with training and practice could easily be picked out.


    After we were kitted out, I led them through the camp as I talked, trying to convey as much as I could.


    "The beastkin have better senses than us. Sight, smell, and hearing, you all should know that we are inferior. But you don''t know what it means in the wild. They will hear us farther away, smell our passage or when we are upwind, and see us farther or in darker areas than most would expect. Before, our advantage was that we could sense their minds at a distance, but even that is taken from us, as they have developed a device to hide."


    I looked around and took a moment for my words to sink in. "To counter their advantages, we scouts train relentlessly to project a thin layer over our bodies to hide our scent. To encase the ground with a layer of force to dampen the sound of our footsteps. And move fluidly through the forest. Most of you have some experience with these concepts, right?"


    Nods met my words, with only a couple of people looking concerned. "Some of you have even practiced this while hunting," again, there were nods, but this time less than before. "But none of you have done it for hours or days without stopping." I did not look this time, as I knew I was right and there would be no nods.


    I only knew of one person to push their child to keep up the workings for hours, leading to half of a day at a time as practice. And how I hated him for doing that to me. But it was the only thing that kept me alive all this time¡­


    "Ok, there is so much more to know, but if you can contain your scent, you have a good chance of making it back."


    ¡°Instructor¡­ what do I¡ª


    "Don''t worry," I said, cutting off the tentative voice that was speaking up, "I will show you."


    With that, I began sending mental links out to everyone, continuing to talk while I did so. "As you can feel, I have smaller reserves than all of you. If you can get close to my shell size and control, you should be fine for six hours." Encasing my body with a small layer of force thinner than a hair, I put my words into practice.


    Holding it for a few moments, I released it and reformed it several more times while I tried to send everything I was doing down the mental link.


    "The hardest part won''t be your mental energy reserves," I stated, "but keeping your working active the whole time. You won''t believe your mental exhaustion after a whole day."


    After I showed them how to make the shield. I gave them a few more pointers and suggestions as we continued to walk out of the new gate and past the training grounds stopping on a small hill.


    Far in the distance, pasted the sea of waving grass, I could see a line of green that marked the edge of the northern forest along with the river Rush that came out of its heart.


    Turning to my trainees, I looked at them as I said, "Now, this is where we split up."

 Chapter 22

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    With the legionaries gone, the battle entered a momentary lull. The few legionnaires still fighting on the ground were quickly overwhelmed, and the hoard as a whole seemed to pause.


    The bird beastmen in the air still threw themselves down at the battlements in waves. And those at the base of the walls clawed at the smooth stone as they futilely struggled to climb it. But the implacable motion of the hoard when they overran the earthworks was gone.


    Out in the distance, the churning sea of creatures stopped as if they were hesitant to throw away their lives at the base of our walls.


    Then a lone howl rang out as a beastman found a gate leading into our fortress, and then another and another howl rang out at other parts along the wall as more beastmen found gates. At the noise, the sea of beasts surged forward once more.


    Beastmen swarmed through the gates, and their bodies pressed into a fifty-foot square courtyard, packing it to bursting before explosions threw back and ripped apart those at the entrance. As the hoard was momentarily pushed back, a foot-wide patch of stone rippled out from the sides of the gates, closing off the passage for the rest of the hoard.


    Archers appeared at the sides of the courtyards'' walls, and they released flights of arrows. Wave after wave slammed into the packed creatures, killing them until none moved. Though they were so packed into the space, most were still standing upright as their blood dripped to the ground.


    Three of the walls of the courtyard pulled back, and knights terra stepped out and pressed their hands against the ground. At their touch, the ground began pulling away from the courtyard''s center, causing the bodies to fall into the pit below. Once the bodies were gone, the knights covered the hole before retreating into their alcoves.


    The courtyard, once filled with death, was ready for its next usage. A courtyard and was just one of a dozen.


    **********


    I crouched low as I slipped between the blades of tall grass. I used the occasional mental strand to brush the grass clump to the side, but I mainly used my hands. There was no point in wearing myself out this early.


    No real need either. We were still close enough to the fort that I could see the occasional horse picket or flight of knights off in the distance. While it took special equipment and training for knights to fly long distances, three to five miles from a camp was easy enough for them to manage without much of an issue.


    Everything came down to me being relatively sure that there was no beastkin this close to the fort. So I was paying less attention to looking for beastkin scouts and more attention to looking for mistakes by my trainees.


    This isn''t the nitpicky, ''I see a spot on your blades, so clean all of your equipment again'' the fish have to endure. It''s the, ''you dropped your shield for a moment and left a trace, and now you''re going to get an arrow in the back'' kind of mistakes.


    I wasn''t expecting to encounter and beastkin until we got to the forest, so I planned to make the most of the time and check over my troops for any obvious faults as we traveled across the plain.


    To make the task easier on me ¡ª in I could view them in somewhat isolation ¡ª I broke the trainees into small four-man squads.


    Technically I was a part of one, but until we got into a more dangerous location, I was not going to help or lead them.


    As for the leaders of the squads, I made those who had the most potential, which was Traig, Anooha, Joxin, and Kathren. The rest I didn''t really pay attention to as they were divided.


    Currently, I was trailing behind Joxin''s group. He was the last that I was going to inspect before I returned to mine.


    They were spread out in a loose line about ten feet from each other, with Joxin slightly ahead where everyone could see him.


    Yeah, his teammates could totally see him if they knew where to look and could separate him from the tall grass he slipped through without much, if any, of a ripple marking his location. Joxin knows his stuff. I thought with respect.


    Even I lost him a few times and had to use the other three as reference points to get an approximate location and wait to catch sight of his cloak or another piece of clothing.


    His teammates were having an even harder time, and the pulses they sent out every few minutes said just how lost they would have been without their mental powers.


    The waste of their energy was bad enough. But their paths through the tall grass was like they curled up into a ball and rolled forward along the ground.


    Though I wasn''t sending out a mental pulse to alert them, I roughly knew what castings they were using, thanks to my detector. Which was a half dome a couple feet in diameter and could be used to pick up the traces of mental castings in its immediate area. Useful as it might be, it takes a lot of practice to interpret the impulses I get from it.


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    No matter how controlled, any mental casting sent out small vibrations into their surroundings and can be picked up on by those who listened. Usually, a casting had to be strong to register on someone''s senses when they weren''t using a perception sphere or pulse, but that wasn''t an option when you have as little raw power as me or want to stay hidden.


    The detector was one of the tricks my father passed down to me. The range wasn''t great, only a couple hundred feet, but it was far more than I could project my mind. Though the casting wasn''t much of an advantage when dealing with beastkin, I found it invaluable when I was stationed on the border with the Imperium.


    And the information that it was telling me now was that every one of Joxin''s squad members other than him was having trouble maintaining their shields. They would drop low in power before surging in strength, only to drop again and vanish before popping into place again.


    Seeing all I needed, I glided forward, picking up the pace. Within a few minutes, I was ten feet from Joxin''s back.


    I thought about starting by speaking but thought better of it. He looked rather tense and liable to lash out with an attack, so I dropped the shield shrouding my mind and waited.


    Unsurprisingly, the first person to notice me was a man to my left. He was having the most trouble keeping track of everyone and was sending out a pulse at regular intervals.


    The immediate pulse after the first gave away that he must have seen me and caused everyone else to send out their own in response to see what had startled him.


    When I felt Joxin''s pulse, I put on a welcoming smile as he whirled around to see me, his hand lowering to the hilt of his knife.


    I gave him a moment to register who I was before waving for him, along with his squad, to come near me.


    As they gathered around, I crouched down below the grass and spoke in a whisper. "As you can guess," I said, looking at three of the scouts, "you''re shit at fieldcraft and need to work on controlling your shields. Nothing we can do about that but time and practice."


    They didn''t like the words, not many did when you were saying how bad they were at something, but I could see they accepted them. Looking at Joxin, I continued, "Your fieldcraft is good, and even I lost you a few times, but you need to realize you are with an untrained team. Even if the beastkin can''t find you, if they find your team and you''re with them, it''s the same. Keep an eye out behind you." Joxin''s eyes widened at my words, and he nodded with understanding.


    Then I paused for a second, looking at everyone, my face falling into a solemn mask as I said, "And you all made the same deadly mistake."


    Looks of confusion appeared on their faces, and their eyes flicked to each other, searching for an answer. A moment passed as they said nothing, as none of them could think of it.


    "You relied on your pulses for what was around you. None of you even checked behind you, and I walked right up." I finally said.


    I saw Joxin''s mouth open, only to snap shut a moment later. I knew what he was going to say.


    But that assumption was no longer accurate. Only those with mental powers who were focused on control could shroud their minds, which was a group the beastkin were definitely not a part of. However they did it, the fact remained, the beastkin could now shroud their minds. We had to deal with that reality.


    Not that anyone but me had seen it. But at this point, everything else I reported was verified, so it wasn''t like anyone would doubt that tidbit.


    "Yeahhh~," I said, drawing out the word. "If you remember anything from this, remember they can shroud their minds now. I believe¡­" Looking over my shoulder at the distant forest, I said, "It will serve you the best on this mission."


    Don''t know why I thought that, but it was what my gut told me. And I was these people''s trainer. And they all seemed like good enough folks that I didn''t want to see them killed like Prick and his associates¡­ So I would do what I thought was right.


    "Thank you, sir," Joxin said, slamming his fist to his chest and was copied by the rest of the squad.


    I nodded to him as I stood, "Remember, only go two miles into the forest, then fall back to the tree line and wait for me. If I''m not back by morning, and you don''t hear from my squad, report back to the Triad." They nodded as I restated their orders. "Good, now hurry up and get back into position," I said, motioning for them to continue their advance.


    I watched them spread out, and threw a few glances behind them for a bit, then slinked off into the grass, looking for my own squad.


    Seventeen minutes of solid movement passed, and I was closing in on the position of where my squad of three should be.


    It took a moment for me to catch sight of some movement as I was off of their location by a few hundred feet. They drifted more to the right than I would have guessed.


    Within a few minutes, I was behind the trio, inspecting them. I gave them some pointers right after I made the group, and we started traveling, but I soon after left them to inspect the others.


    They were closer together than the other groups. All were within ten feet and were making a small arrow, with Kathren at the front.


    None of them looked like they were experts in the field, but they all knew what they were doing and were leaving less of a trail than the three with Joxin, but not quite as good as him.


    I was impressed by what I saw. None of them could be called proficient in using their shield, so they made mistakes. Even with their mistakes, they took to heart my warning their pulses couldn''t be trusted.


    They positioned themselves so each could take up a third of the area around them. And I could detect the traces of a mental link running between them. But it might also just be updates they were telepathically sending each other.


    More than any of the other groups, it seemed like they had taken my warning to heart.


    As I crept up to them, I kept my mind shrouded as I wanted to see how close I could get to them.


    When I was fifty feet out, I felt a rapid series of messages between them after one of the men''s eyes caught on my position for a moment.


    As they whirled around, weapons raised, I was already standing up with my hands razed.


    "Instructor," Kathren said sheepishly as she hid her drawn sword behind her back.


    I smiled at her and her men, "Good," I said, causing a look of puzzlement to appear on their faces, "With reactions and strategies like that, you lot might actually make it back."


    My words did not appear to fill them with confidence.

 Chapter 23

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    Over and over, the doors leading to the courtyard of death opened, letting hundreds and thousands die at one time. But it was only drops in a bucket for the beastman hoard.


    Every time the doors rippled shut, the beasts would claw at the stone chipping off small pieces. No one was doing much, but the damage they collectively caused needed to be constantly mended by the knights'' terra.


    And beasts that they were, when the passage closed in front of their faces, blocking off their access to prey, they would go berserk. Leaping onto and then off of their brethren in futile attempts to reach the edge of the battlements. At least, that was the case at first.


    Many of their brethren were killed in their attempts, and more were killed as the archers released volley after volley of arrows into their ranks outside the walls, but it did not matter to them.


    No, the smell of blood and death permeating the air only fueled their rage. Drove them to press harder against the walls of the Gauntlet.


    As time passed and the bodies mounted, more and more of the beastmen were clambering up onto a ramp of bodies thirty feet tall and leapt the last twenty, latching onto the battlement''s edge.


    And at that point, the pits beneath the courtyards were already full of bodies, and the beasts were clambering over their own dead to reach the next passage of the Gauntlet.


    Thousands of beastmen lay dead inside and outside of the walls. Tens of thousands. But everyone could tell that it would not be enough.


    We all came to the same conclusion; we needed a bigger fort.


    **********


    Poking my head over the grass, I looked around.


    I couldn''t see any blatant indication of the beastkin, but then again, if there wasn''t a hoard marching out of the forest, I wouldn''t see any signs of them.


    Though I wasn''t that concerned, we were still a couple miles from the forest''s edge, and I figured that if there were any beastkin scouts, they would be there.


    Falling into an easy gate, I resigned myself to traveling the rest of the way across the grasslands without any excitement.


    I was not moving in formation with the trainees but circling around them slowly. And occasionally circling back to the group to walk with them for a bit before doing another lap.


    There wasn''t any real reason behind why I was making the laps. More than I just didn''t want to put in the effort to move in formation with them.


    And I guess it was good practice for them to work together and learn what they could from watching me move around. That sounds like a good reason, if anyone asks¡­ I thought, mentally patting myself on the back for being a good leader.


    As I returned from this loop to check on the squad, I slowed down to match their pace five feet from them, and I heard a few whispered words and the sounds of quick movements before a loud cough sounded.


    Looking over, I saw the two men nod their heads and flick their wrists toward me while letting out a few grunts I couldn''t make out.


    Giving them a look of bewilderment as I raised my eyebrow, I waited for someone to speak up. It only caused them to increase their antics as they tried to get the other to ask me a question.


    Finally, Kathren sighed and said, "They want to know what you think are the odds that we will find beastkin."


    Though she framed it like she was asking for them to get this situation over with, I could tell she also wanted to know the answer.


    I didn''t need to think about the question long. "There are scouts in this forest. I have no doubt about that¡­ But I don''t believe we will meet them or a warband."


    "Why?" I looked at the man who asked the question, not saying anything for a moment. His face was turning red at my look, and he started stammering, "Umm. I¡ª I. I mean¡­ Why do you think we won''t meet them¡­ Sir."


    "I know what you meant," I said, waving off his embarrassment or fear that he angered me. "I was just thinking¡­ And I don''t see them confronting us because it won''t do them any good. If we fight, we could win and track them back to their base. If we are killed, it would tell the legion something is here. And they will send more people. No win for them either way. So long as we don''t find anything they don''t want us to see, I doubt there will be a problem."


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    "It doesn''t mean we won''t be attacked, though." Stated Kathren.


    I nodded to her in acknowledgment. "Just because I don''t believe they''ll attack us doesn''t mean they won''t."


    "And even if they do attack," said the man that hadn''t talked yet, "We can wrap them in strands of force and crush them!" He even pumped his hand in the air with his last shouted words.


    It took a second for the words to sink in, then I turned my head to look at the man joining the other''s incredulous stares with my own skeptical one.


    No one had said a word yet, but his shoulders were hunching, and he was collapsing in on himself. ¡°Well¡­ Uhh. You know¡­ cause they don''t have. Mental powers?" He stammered out, his voice getting quieter as he spoke.


    "That''s the stupidest thing I have ever heard. Maybe your parents had a reason for naming you, Jim." The other man, who I did not know the name of, said with a shake of his head.


    Head snapping to the side, I looked at him with disbelief, "His name is Jim. Really?"


    If it could happen, the guy hung his head lower, and I faintly heard him mumble, "Yes, Instructor, my name''s Jim."


    I heard Karthren stifle a snicker when he said his name, though I was pretty sure she already knew it. I could understand the urge. I mean, I felt it too, and I went by Green. But who names their kid Jim?


    Shaking my head, I went back to doing what was important, doing my job. I mean, don''t wanna feel guilty that someone died because I was lazy. Or distracted by a man named Jim. How would I enjoy my off time, then?


    "It''s a common misconception, actually." I suddenly said, drawing the group''s attention back to me.


    "What?" Asked Kathren.


    "That we can use mental force strands to rip apart the beastkin. Every time legionaries go into combat against beastkin, someone tries it. They quickly learn that they are wrong, but by then, they are usually collapsed onto the ground in mental exhaustion as all of their mental energy was sucked away. Hmm," I hummed in thought, "you guys know why we can''t use mental force strands against each other, right."


    I looked at them, and none of them would meet my eyes, too embarrassed that they did not know the answer to my question.


    It was not surprising that none of them knew the answer. Only elves who paid attention to their elders as children during their childhood village lessons and the wealthy who could afford to go to an academy would know. While it wasn''t hidden knowledge or anything, the reasons mattered little. Most only bothered to know the fact that you couldn''t squash someone with a mental strand. And some didn''t even know that.


    As we walked, I continued talking, "While everyone says that we cannot rip another person in half or compress their body to the size of a fist like we can with a three-foot patch of ground, that isn''t really the case. It comes down to two things, willpower and mental energy reserves. The stronger the willpower of the one being attacked, the more energy it will require the attacker to overwhelm and smash them. And if you have strong willpower and a large reserve, it''s impossible. Even those with only a small amount of willpower and mental energy are so draining on the attacker that it''s not worth the effort. Besides, most people don''t even have the raw power to get past the natural defenses mental energy gives. But you need to have some mental energy to have that defense. Meaning a deer or tree won''t be able to resist our mental energy and thus could be smashed. So it''s far easier to pick up a rock and mentally throw it at someone than try and squash them. While the Beastkin does not have mental energy, they are far stronger, faster, and more durable than they should be. It has long been believed that they have some other energy that is similar¡­ and based on recent examples, that belief will be far more credible." I got lost in thought for a moment as I mentally went back to the beastkin''s ability to throw around fire. In that light, it made a lot of sense¡­


    Shaking off that line of thought, I focused on the moment again. Every step was taking me toward greater danger, and now was not the time to get lost in a thought experiment that I had no way to prove or disprove.


    Looking back at the group, I found that only Kathren''s eyes weren''t glazed over at my explanation, but I could tell she wasn''t wholly following me. "Hem!" I grunted, clearing my throat and snapping their attention back to me. "Anyway, to make a long technical answer short, beastkin have some kind of resistance to being squashed like bugs, but it is not quite as good as anyone''s with mental energy would be. So if you feel the urge to show off your mental powers, pick up a rock and slam or throw it at them."


    I saw Jim nod, taking my answer to heart.


    Already turning back and planning on taking another trip to circle around them, I was stopped when Kathren spoke up.


    "If we can''t use a mental strand of force to kill someone, why can we use objects propelled by force." Turning back, I found that she had a genuine look of curiosity and was not simply asking the question because she thought it would get her on my good side.


    "It''s quite simple when you get right down to it," I said, deciding to answer her, "you''re not using a mental strand to kill them." I held up a hand when she opened her mouth to protest, signaling I wasn''t done talking. "Everybody is resistant to foreign mental energy within them. The only real exception is healers, but even then, their energy can be resisted if one is of the mind to do so. So when foreign hostel mental energy comes into contact with a body, the mind instinctually lashes out, disrupting and dissipating the mental energy. So when a stick propelled by mental energy hits a body, the mental energy is dispelled, but the stick is still there. It is an object and will do what it was made to do."


    "Ahh," Kathren said, a look of thought on her face.


    I hoped what I said would help her and maybe the others in some way, but we had other things to worry about.


    "What about mentalist then," asked Jim. "How would they get past our defenses and attack the minds?"


    I turned to him, surprised that he had asked such a question, and I answered it instinctually. "They don''t," I said. "they change their energy frequency to resonate with their victims. Then manipulate the victim''s internal energy with external tendrils to relay what they desire. You can tell a good mentalist by how efficient they are."


    They all had looks of consideration on their face but now wasn''t the time. "Focus," I said, drawing and refocusing their attention again, "we''re at the edge of the forest."


    Crouching lower, I planned on using the grass as cover for as long as possible while I stalked forward.

 Chapter 24

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    Though it was never truly tested, the Gauntlet was built with the core idea that it would have layers upon layers of defense. When one position could no longer be held, the legionaries would fall back to the next.


    Or, if they were trapped as multiple spots broke simultaneously, they would fall back to keeps and towers positioned throughout the fortress while they could continue to fight.


    Even though the Gauntlet had been fighting continuously for the past months, it had yet to fight at its total capacity. Different sections were always being repaired or having the bodies filling them cleared out and burned.


    Other than when we first started creating the core of the fortress, we were never really under threat of being overwhelmed as a whole. There just weren''t enough beastmen attacking. Because we built for what the elves warned us was coming. Though we never truly believed.


    But finally, under the endless hoard''s assault, the outer walls fell. The bodies were piled up so high outside and within the courtyards that it was like a road was built up to the top of the wall and down the other side.


    It took more than a day and night of constant fighting to lead to such a situation, tens of thousands of arrows, and a continuous stream of compressed stone spikes and balls being mined as we dug into the ground for more ammunition and fortifications.


    In the end, their numbers were too much, and those manning the outer walls were swamped and forced to retreat.


    And still, I stood in the center of the fort, watching the fight. I remembered.


    **********


    A snap sounded to my left, causing me to freeze in place as the sounds of the forest quieted. Long seconds passed as my heart pounded in my chest. I was waiting for something to happen.


    I was not concerned about the source of the noise. I know what that was. Or who.


    If it wasn''t Jim, I was probably Lutious. Who''s name I¡­ reluctantly learned. He seemed like a good enough guy, but I was half expecting him not to make it back. Him and the rest of the trainees, for that matter¡­


    There was also a chance it was Kathren, but the last few hours of experience told me it was most likely one of the first two. And I was long since past warning them to be quiet or giving pointers.


    There was no changing the situation now, so I decided to use them for what they were good for, bait.


    With all of their stomping through the forest, anything nearby will be drawn to them. With me circling around the trio, I hoped that I would be able to catch any ambushers.


    It was a small hope, I was one man, and there was a lot more area around the trio I couldn''t see the approach of, but it was the best plan I had.


    Eventually, the chirps of birds sounded again, and squirrels scampered across the limbs of trees as they came out from their hiding spots.


    Slowly I moved my head to the left, and I caught the movement of the trainees in the corner of my eye. They were trying to make their way forward along a game trail but couldn''t make it more than five feet without making a noise loud enough to quiet the natural sounds of a forest.


    Standing in place, I let them pass as I slowly scanned the area with my eyes and let out a few gentle pulses just in case.


    Seeing nothing, I turned, only to freeze.


    I still saw nothing, but I picked up a ping.


    Off and on during our trek through the forest, I checked the trainees'' shielding and any other castings they were using. With me basically being leashed to their side, it was a good way to monitor them without keeping a constant eye on them. If they were in a fight, I should be able to pick it up right away.


    And with the small dome of mental force already made, even I could maintain it with the small trickle of mental energy without much effort.


    What I felt hit my dome didn''t originate from the trio, it was too faint, and it felt strange, unlike anything I had ever felt before.


    I had no idea what the source was or where it bounced from, but it was strange. And strange while moving through a definitely enemy-infested forest didn''t bode well.


    I panned the dome from the recruits to the right. Slowly shifting it higher than lower as I went farther right, making sure to cover the trees from the tops to their roots.


    Seconds passed, and I scanned nearly all of the forest in which something could be hiding.


    As I saw it, the most important and most dangerous area was the position next to the river Rush. The warband that attacked the walls of the northeastern fort had fallen back to the eastern side of the northern forest, so they were definitely watching the river.


    They might even be trying to build a bridge over the damn thing, for all I know. I thought to myself. Which is why were are here¡­ Wait¡­ what was that.


    I moved my detector back slightly, and again I got a hit. There was that energy again. If mental energy was like a high warble, then this energy was like a low deep thrum.


    Except it was¡­ becoming louder? Yeah, that''s right, it was¡ª


    "Ohh, shit! I hissed to myself as I sent out an ambush pulse while quickly moving forward in a low crouch.


    From what I could tell, the energy came from a rock outcropping in the center of some trees sixty feet to the side of the trail the trainees were moving along. And eighty feet from me.


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    I was even farther from the trail, sitting at about seventy-five feet, putting me in a great position to flank the position.


    If I could see what I was sure was the beastkin. Or fell their minds. I couldn''t do either of those things at the moment, so that was a pretty big problem.


    My eyes roved that my detector was telling me where the energy was coming from, but try as I might, all I could find were mossy rocks partially hidden by trees.


    Throwing a quick glance to my left, I saw the trainees scrambling for cover and to position themselves. Whatever surprise the source of energy thought it had, it had to know that that was no longer the case at this point.


    As I turned my head back, my eyes widened in shock, and I stumbled before falling to the ground on my hands and knees.


    One second, I was looking at a pile of mossy rocks hiding within a clump of trees. The next second, I looked at two tents and a campfire surrounded by those same trees.


    A scene that I would only believe if I saw and made me question reality was bad enough, but I also saw the four beastkin.


    The three in the front were wolven and had swords and round shields raised. The last, I could not tell what subspecies he was, but he held a staff in one hand that had a glowing tip. Above the tip were three shards of ice floating in the air.


    Even as I was fighting to suppress the shock filling my mind, my body was already acting out of long training and instinct. My left hand raised my new bow while my right reached over my shoulder to my quiver, grabbing an arrow.


    In one motion, I knocked and fired the arrow while I remained kneeling on the ground.


    With my arrow loosed, I planted my hand on the ground so I could leverage my way up without taking my eyes off the path of my arrow.


    I was filled with a calm surety. My arrow was good. There was no wind, and nothing was in its path or could move into it.


    My arrow would strike the weird beastman in the chest, and I would move farther to the right to get a better angle on the warrio¡ª


    What? My mind froze as I could not accept what I was seeing.


    Again I missed my step. But at least this time, I didn''t fall to the ground.


    It did not change the facts, though. And those facts were that a foot from the beastman, the arrow splintered into splinters like it had hit a stone wall. Or a telekinetic shield.


    But beastkin didn''t have those¡­ And they can''t shoot fireballs, either! Forget the past and fucking move!


    I jumped to the right, slamming my side into a tree before I continued moving past it building up to a sprint.


    I didn''t plan on moving past my cover, but as I reached the tree, the ground shook, and I could feel small projectiles peppering my back.


    Hardly a few steps past the tree, I heard a loud crack and then the clinks and thunks of tiny shards of wood hitting the ground. Then a groan and woosh of the leaves as the tree started to fall.


    Vaulting over a rock, I hung in the air, so I pulled out an arrow and fired it at the dangerous hooded beastkin.


    "Fuck." I muttered under my breath as I yanked on the back section of my harness for an instant before pulling forward.


    My arrow had been deflected by the shield, but my jump had given the beastman enough time to aim his last ice shard. An attack that was as fast, if not faster than my arrow, would have hit me in the side of the chest if I had not pulled my body out of the way. The maneuver disrupted my stride, but it was much better than getting a spear of ice through the chest.


    After a few stumbling steps to catch my balance from my interrupted landing, I turned and started running towards the beastkin camp.


    I was quickly closing the distance, but I wasn''t going to be fast enough. I could already see the beastman forming more ice spears over his glowing staff, and two of the warriors had positioned themselves to block my path.


    Forming six mental strands, I moved them to grab one of my arrows while my hand grasped the hilt of my sword, unsheathing it as I dropped my bow.


    Everything around me was a blur as I focused all my attention on my opponents.


    Their shields were blocking their chests, and they were close enough to support each other no matter which one I attacked.


    I knew time until the glowing beastman''s attack was short, so I had to take risks I otherwise wouldn''t have by rushing. It was better than staying at rang, at least.


    Raising my sword hand over my head like I was going to try and stab down over the shield, I ran forward. At the last moment, I shot my arrows forward, arching them around the shield of the other beastman to distract him as I aimed them at his arms, legs, and head. Then I mentally pulled myself forward at the last moment, adding a burst to my speed.


    Instead of swinging my blade over the shield like I pretended, I moved it in front of my chest, turning the edge so the flat side of the blade was facing me and then pressing my other arm against that as I thrust it forward. It slammed into the beastman''s shield hard enough to shake me to my bones. "Humph!" I grunted from the impact.


    I planted my foot backward as I bounced off the shield before taking two steps back as I caught myself. The beastman was not so lucky.


    He was not expecting me to put that much effort into hitting his shield or as low as I did, causing him to be off balance and stumble back from the impact, falling onto his tail.


    Glancing to the side, I cursed as I dove to the left. The other beastman was uninjured, and his lips were curled back as he showed off his long fangs while he thrust his sword at my chest.


    Rolling to my feet, I pulled out three more arrows with mental strands and shot them at the beastmen just beginning to get to his knees as I rushed at the standing one.


    Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the arrows strike the kneeling beastman as I passed him, only to splinter against an invisible shield again.


    "Ahh!" I shouted in frustration and anger as I charged forward. When I got close enough, I used two tendrils to grab the side of the round wooden shield and pull it to the side.


    That was the plan, at least.


    When my tendrils touched the shield''s edge, I got one yank, then my mental energy came into contact with a foreign energy. I can not say what it was, but it was not the mental energy from humans.


    The was a moment where nothing happened. Then the foreign energy lashed out and latched onto my tendril seeming to pull on it. When the two energies intermingled, they seemed to fight with one another, evaporating into nothing from contact. All at once, the mental energy forming my castings was ripped from my control as it was pulled into the struggle between the opposing energies.


    The shield was pulled out of the way, but I was unable to take advantage of the opening as I was mentally reeling. Spots filled my vision and a third of my energy was sucked away along with all of my mental tendrils in whatever that encounter was. And the world was kind of swirling and twisting around me. So no big deal.


    I rapidly blinked a few times, in what felt like only a moment, surprised I was still on my feet after the world spun, Then I raised my sword to attack the beastman.


    Looking at the beastman in his yellow eyes, I could see he was also shaken from whatever happened, as his shield was not yet fully back in position.


    As I positioned a foot so I could roll to the side and attack his feet, an arrow sprouted from his throat. Coughing up blood over his chest, the beastman collapsed to the ground choking on his own blood.


    Blinking once, I turned to attack the other beastkin, only to find that they were already dead, the two male trainees standing over their bodies, blades drawn and bloody.


    Eyes sweeping the camp, I groaned, "Aww, fuck!"


    "What instructor," Asked Kathren in concern as she jogged up, looking at me and then around the area.


    Pointing, I said, "That''s a legion saddle."

 Chapter 25

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    The hoard pressed forward in a wave, breaking against our next half circle of fortifications.


    This layer of defense was set up so two of the outermost courtyards would feed into a single courtyard, which was about a hundred feet in length and fifty wide.


    Though the gates leading to the second layer were fully opened, meaning they were peeled back from ground level to battlements, they were not the primary avenue beastmen were using to move forward, as those passages were already clogged with bodies.


    The hoard was using the bodies of their dead, filling the first courtyards to run up and over the wall, falling into the next.


    Most were, at least.


    Clumps of the beastmen could be seen attempting to smash the gates of the towers positioned at the intersections of the walls connecting the first and second rings.


    Towers that still had legionaries desperately fighting from within, half of which already knew they were cut off from the rest of the fortress, destined to die.


    The air swirled with the building of a storm while the beastmen beat on our walls, in time with the whistling and howling wind ripping over and through the fortress. As the wind pushed the knights and flying beastmen forward in a wild dance in the air as they fought for dominance.


    And still, the legionaries fought. They fought, as one while many, to stop this hoard here and protect Olimpia. They fought in the air and ground. Close and far.


    They fought, and I watched. I remembered.


    **********


    My eyes were locked on the saddle lying on the ground beside the fire. Someone tried saying something to me, but I wasn''t paying attention.


    It looked like one of the beastkin was using the saddle as a backrest or seat. On the saddle''s seat, it looked like some dried blood was running down the sides of it to the stirrups. Branded into the side of the saddle was the ''XV'' of the Fifteenth Legion.


    There would be very few reasons for beastkin to be lugging a saddle around. And the ''I'' branded below the ''XV'' signified the saddle as belonging to the First Turma of the Fifteenth. This could only mean one thing.


    It was taken from battle as a prize. They were the turma that left after the attack, right? Shit, I don''t remember which turma they were, but it makes sense the first wound be sent to Cross¡­ I hope someone got through¡­ Wha?


    Looking to the side, I saw Kathren, her hand gently lying on my upper arm. She looked like she was ready to jump back at my slightest motion.


    When she saw me looking at her, her shoulders slumped in relief, and she let out a sigh.


    Raising my eyebrow, I looked from her face to her hand, then back to her face. Cheeks turning slightly red, Kathren''s hand snapped back to her chest, and she looked away.


    "Umm, sorry, Instructor. It looked like you were spacing out for a long time again¡­ And after what happened in the fight¡­ we thought we should check on you."


    ¡°Ehem¡ª You!" Came a cough and an almost cough that sounded an awful lot like the word ''you.'' Eyes flicking over, I saw Lutious with his back turned and head down, kicking at the ground by a tent.


    Looking back to Kathren, I saw her shooting him a cold glare before closing her eyes and saying, "Umm, yeah¡­ I thought I should check on you to make sure everything was fine. Ya know, after you froze up with the beastkin."


    "What?" I asked in puzzlement, making her face drain of blood and causing her to stutter.


    "Umm, w-well. I didn''t."


    Cutting her off with a raised hand, I said, "I''m not trying to trap you in an accusation or anything. I really just don''t know what you are talking about."


    Cautiously she motioned to the side as she said, "When you charged him, suddenly you and the beastkin stopped moving. It gave us the time to kill them without their shields, but¡­ what happened, Instructor? ¡­If I can ask¡­"


    "How long was I standing still for."


    "Less than a minute. More than half."


    "Really?" I said in half shock and half disbelief. "It didn''t feel like more than a second to me. Maybe two."


    Turning, I walked over to the warrior''s body, kneeling next to it as I looked at him as spoke. "I was sending out tendrils to pull his shield to the side so I could get an angle on his body. Then I felt another energy come into contact with my tendril, and they¡­ connected or intermingled before dissolving? It was weird. It was like when you try to interact with a person''s body, but¡­" I trailed off as I wasn''t sure what to say and wanted to think about it more.


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    "Is that what the flash was," Jim asked, interrupting me. I threw him a questioning look, and he continued, "When you ran at the beastman, I thought I saw a flash of a misty line connecting all of them appear for a moment."


    I looked at Kathren, "I didn''t see it." she said with a shrug. Then I looked at Lutious, who responded, "I might have. But I was distracted fighting him." He was gesturing to the only warrior I didn''t fight off to the side.


    Poking around on the body near my feet, I started looking for something out of place. Besides his clothing made from hides of different animals sone together, the only other thing he was wearing was a leather thong neckless with a broken piece of interwoven wood and braided strands of fibers holding a white stone in the center of the woven wood. It was very intricate.


    I briefly patted down the beastman, checking for anything a visual inspection might have missed, then I got up, heading for the other beastkin to do the same.


    The beastkin with the sword and shield was kitted out similar to the first, with the same exact neckless. I wasn''t a professional regarding beastkin culture and fashion, but I was guessing men wearing the same neckless were kind of strange.


    Moving to the shrouded one, I began to inspect their body.


    Professional inspector that I was, the first thing I noticed about the beastkin body was that it was, in fact, a female. I came to this conclusion as I felt small but definite soft lumps under my hand as I planted it against her chest while I leaned down to pull back her hood.


    Feeling something under my hand, I began shifting it around and squeezing it on her outer layer of clothes as I searched for the outline of the stiff object.


    Finally locating its edges, I got a mental picture of its shape, determining it was significantly larger than the others. Pulling back her collar and sticking my arm inside, I fished around inside the robes for a few seconds before I found and pulled out the neckless.


    Even at a quick look, I knew I was right. The neckless was far more intricate and bigger than the others, but it was also cracked. Though I had no idea what the design meant, I got a similar vibe from it as the others.


    "Ahem!" Came a loud, incredibly fake cough which sent a shiver running down my spine. "What are you doing over there, Instructor."


    I also noticed some stifled snickering off to the side. The kind of snickering a man does behind a woman''s back as another man does something stupid that will get him in trouble.


    A moment passed as I wondered what was going on, then my mind flashed with what I was doing and what I must look like with my back to them. I quickly pulled back from kneeling, hunched over position of looming over the body. "Whoa!" I said, spinning around and holding my hands up, "I was looking at her neckless."


    "Sure. Instructor." Kathren flatly said, looking at me with disgust before she turned and started for the small camp where Jim and Lutious were huddled together, snickering like schoolchildren.


    As Kathren turned to them, they quickly separated, looking like they were working as they dug through the camp, somehow managing to avoid looking at either me or her.


    I opened my mouth to justify myself but decided to close it and turn back to the body to get this over with. Yep, I''m not winning that.


    There were still two rays of death digging into the side of my head, so I decided to focus on a visual inspection of the body. Patting her down wouldn''t be necessary.


    I scanned the body and could tell the cause of death from the two arrows sticking out of her chest. Which explained the blood on her chin and spray over her clothes. However, it did not explain why blood dripped from her eyes, ears, and nose.


    What was also strange were the objects hanging from her belt. They were a latticework of woven together wood branches, stones, and braided fibers, like the necklaces. Some were more complex, while others looked little more than a few twigs twisted around each other.


    There were a half dozen of the objects, and all of them were different. Four of the things had rocks in their design, and all of those had stones of various colors and shapes.


    Turning to the staff, the crystal on top was no longer glowing, and it looked like the staff had grown roots around the crystal to hold it into place. Intricate patterns were carved into the wood along the staff''s length, and another woven object was tied onto its top quarter.


    Reaching out slowly, I poked the staff with a finger. I felt nothing.


    Grasping the shaft with my hand, I paused to see if anything would happen now. When nothing did, I lifted it up to look closer at the patterns, then the crystal.


    None of it made sense to me. So I extended a tendril to poke the staff.


    "Ahh!" I Screamed in pain as I threw the staff away from me, shaking out my hand.


    The tendril I had extended was sucked into the staff with such force that I couldn''t stop it. The stick then turned so hot that I was sure my hand was burned.


    And now the staff was splintering into small pieces of wood, which were bursting into intense white flames as the pieces vanished into a cloud of sparks rising into the air and vanishing in moments.


    "Wow." Stated Jim, "What did you just do?"


    I didn''t take my eyes off what was left of the staff, which was now a thin trail of ash that led to a now-cracked crystal lying on the ground. "I extended a tendril and poked the staff."


    "Hmmm," Jim grunted in approval at my investigation methods.


    "What did you learn?" Asked Lutious at the same time, not questioning my response.


    "Not much," I said, slowly reaching out to poke the broken crystal with my hand. I could feel the force of the gaze boring into me increase, and I had no intention of dealing with that, so an investigation was better. ¡°Mayb¡ª


    "Are you guys fucking serious!" Shouted Kathren incredulously, causing me to look up and twist my head to face her in bewilderment. "After you find a beastwoman throwing around ice spears like a knight. And you apparently black out for most of a minute after your mental energy comes into contact with something and rips it away from you. You think it''s a good idea to poke the staff with your finger and mental energy? Did I get that right, Instructor?"


    Her tone was heavily loaded with the insinuation that I''m a dumbass. And completely gone was any respect for her Instructor. But for some reason, I could not find the righteous superiority inside of myself that should be there as her superior, as she yelled.


    "Yes?" I hesitantly asked, looking at the men for support only to find them with their backs turned to me again. Traitors.


    "Ahh!" She shouted, throwing her hands up in the air in exasperation. "I''m still surrounded by fucking idiots. I mean men."


    I opened my mouth to defend my completely reasonable actions.


    "Preach, Sister," said a female voice cutting me off¡­


    Spinning to my left, my right hand drew my sword as I crouched and looked up.


    A woman was lying on a branch up on a tree. One of her hands cupped her head, fingers splayed around her long pointed animal ears on the top of her head, while her other hand lazily spun a strap of leather. Behind her, in the shadows, multiple tails flicked back and forth.


    She gave me a smug, superior smile saying, "Hey, there, Pretty Boy, didn''t expect to see you up and about so soon."

 Chapter 26

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    Day after day passed, and fortifications and walls fell one after another as their defenders died or became too injured to fight.


    The second layer fed into the third, the only difference being that it was slightly larger. In less than half a day, the third layer''s gates were breached, letting the hoard assault the diamond-shaped walls of the inner fort.


    The inner fort had a single passage on the far left side, with the gates of the third layer opening at their furthest point from it. The route was divided by tall walls which repeatedly turned back on themselves, funneling the beastmen.


    A passage that centuries of legionaries stood shoulder to shoulder in blocking as they slowly ground the momentum of the hoard against their steel front.


    Slowly, the legionaries were ever pushed back. The tide never stopped, and though the beast would trample their own into a past that smeared across the stone ground as it ran into the drainage system, not all of the gore could be washed away by the growing rain. The footing was too unstable for the legion to push forward, so as the bodies mounted, the lines pulled back.


    And then the storm our knights had been gathering fully broke. Buckets of water fell from the sky, forcing the birds to land, freeing the legionaries constantly firing into the say a chance to change targets.


    Then the lightning fell from the heavens, setting the Gauntlet on fire.


    *********


    "Do I know you?" I hesitantly asked the woman beastkin. I was trying to sound calm and not to give offense.


    I had no idea what Kathren and the others were feeling, but my senses were screaming at me that I was in danger and to tread lightly. This beastwoman was far more dangerous than the eagle and any knight I could think of.


    It was like, I was standing in front of a Lord. Not that I ever had, but that was the only thing I could think of that would give me this sense of overwhelming danger.


    And then the feeling of danger crawling over my skin vanished as her smile stretched a little wider at my words. Ancestor preserve us¡­ I silently prayed.


    Anyone who has been around dangerous people knows there are two main types. Those who try to exude danger and confidence like it was perfume wafting around them, and those so confident in their abilities that they can turn it on and off with a flip of a lever. While the first is, and always will be, dangerous, you can usually guess why they would be so confident. A knowledge that will let you know if you can take them in a fight. The second is hiding their strength and abilities. And the danger of what you can''t see coming is always far more than what is right in front of you.


    The woman slowly sat up, letting her feet dangle off the branch. She grasped one wrist with the other and stretched it above her head, closing her eyes.


    I heard a slight creak of wood behind me, and I lashed out with a mental tendril, "Oww!" cried out Kathren, and I heard the clatter of her bow against rocks.


    The beastkin still had her eyes closed despite Kathren''s shout of pain, but I never took my eyes off the beastwoman, so I noticed her slight reaction.


    There was a slight hesitation of the languid flicks of her tails. And something besides tension began to build up in the air. I knew that if Kathren drew and released that arrow, the only thing that would happen would be her death.


    "Ahh." She let out a quiet groan before opening her eyes, "I knew you were more than a pretty face. Despite what you like doing to the dead and the staff. I was starting to get quite a few doubts for a moment there.."


    My cheeks heated slightly, and I knew I was blushing, "I wasn¡ª


    "I''m sure~. I''m sure it wasn''t what it looked like at all¡­" She spoke slowly, drawing out her vowels. Despite what her words said, I did not get the feeling that she believed what she said at all.


    Opening my mouth to say something, she cut me off again, "As to how I know you, I can''t believe that you forgot!" She held her hand against her chest and her four tails swept up around her, two points coming to a stop below her chin and the other two to the sides of her face framing it. I noticed her usually sharp nose and pointed chin. My eyes moving up her face, I came to a stop and looked at her, fluttering her eyelashes at me.


    I didn''t really notice that, as I was focused on her eyes. They were a dark orange bordering on red, like the embers of a fire. As strangely fascinating as I found her eyes, they could not keep me from focusing on her¡­ absurd words.


    "There I was, standing under the moon! And suddenly, you came rushing forward, Green, sweeping me off my feet. Where our arms interlocked around each other as we went for a tumble. I wasn''t prepared as it was my first time, and my clothes were ruined with bloody stains because of that feverish night, and the whole time all you did was lay there as I did all the work."


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    No one said anything until I found the words that accurately conveyed our thoughts, "The fuck are you talking about."


    "Waah!" She pulled her body back a few stumbling steps as if I had slapped her with my words. "He doesn''t remember our first night together! Can you believe that?"


    "Instructor?" Kathren asked in an accusing tone of voice. It was to be expected as the beastwoman was talking with such surety ¡ª and what had to be feigned honesty unless part of my memory was missing ¡ª that even I was starting to believe I had met her somewhere.


    "I have no idea where she knows me and my name from."


    She looked even more stricken by my words, and tears even started to well in her eyes and roll down her cheeks, "And here I even left you at the entrance to your camp after you used me the whole night¡­" At that, she turned her back, her shoulders hunching and falling like she was silently sobbing into her hands.


    At that, I finally understood the bush she was beating around. ¡°Oh¡­ Well¡­ I guess that I should thank you. You saved my life by bringing me back to the legion, and it''s more than I can expect from most of the fellows." I gave her a bow as I spoke, showing my genuine gratitude that she brought me back to the Triad. But the fact she did it at all¡­ to get that close was more than disturbing. Horrifying was the only way to put it.


    When I looked up from my feet, she was leaning down inches from my face, a slight smile curling her lips, causing me to freeze in place. I noticed that her long hair hung down to her mid back, was actually a deep red that looked black when not seen through with a backdrop of light. "Oh, I saw how much they think of you, Handsome," her lips curled slightly more as she studied me, showing her fangs, then she leaned forward and sniffed, ¡°¡­You¡­ actually mean that?"


    It took every bit of my self-control not to jump back at her sudden appearance inches from my face. And the sniffing and sharp teeth didn''t help, but sudden reactions didn''t seem like a good choice right now.


    Unclenching my muscles, I sent out a quick pulse for the trainees to be calm and wait as I intentionally started coming up from my bow at the same pace as before. The beastwoman raised her head, keeping it level with mine right up until I stood to my full height.


    I looked into her eyes and noticed that she stood a head shorter than me, which was surprising as she was a woman, and I stood at least a head taller than human males. Even though I was taller than her, I was under no illusions.


    I was not the one in control of this situation.


    "Would I say it if I didn''t mean it?" I asked.


    "Most Olimpians I have met would, once they realized their situation."


    "Ohh, I am quite aware of the situation, and I still mean it. Such mercy is rare to find among one''s enemies. But I think there is something more to your actions than just mercy."


    "Why would you think that? I am just a kind soul passing through the world helping all I encounter in need." Her tails curled around her body again, and her face took on the mast of purity and kindness.


    "Because you''re here," I said matter-of-factly, ignoring her antics. "And you''re not browbeating us with your strength. Shit, you''re hardly even showing hints of your power. So you want something from me that you can''t just take."


    ¡°Hmmm¡­" she hummed as she started walking around me, looking me up and down like a piece of meat. "Looks and a brain, aren''t you the rare find for a man. You won''t mind if I claim him? No? goody."


    Something soft brushed against my left arm, and I tried to stare straight ahead, ignoring the provocations of the beastkin and my growing annoyance. Then my right side felt the soft contact, and I could not stop myself from turning to look. I found nothing. Only to feel it again on my left side once I turned to my right.


    As I turned to look again, I stopped, seeing the beastwoman standing a few feet from me, her hands held at her waist right over left. Her entire demeanor changed, taking on a serious professional air that made it seem like she would never mess around.


    My abrupt movement slowed, and the anger that was building inside of me as she fucked around began to simmer down. Seems like she''s finally getting down to business. I thought to myself.


    "It seems I made the right choice in saving you," she said with a sharp self-satisfied smile.


    ¡°¡­So, what do you want," I asked after a few long seconds, in which she said nothing.


    "To help you." I wrinkled my brow at her words in a silent question, but she didn''t answer. Instead, her eyes flicked to those behind me, saying, "But first, we need to get rid of your followers."


    My back stiffened, and I could feel a cold drop of sweat run down it as I asked, "Why?"


    "Because they can''t follow where we have to go, and I''m not going to give them more to report unless we¡­ come to an agreement."


    I took a moment for her words to sink in, then nodded. Turning to the trio standing huddled together with their back to one of the trees marking the edge of the beastkin camp, I walked over.


    Stopping a few feet from them, I gave them a nod, "You guys did good during the fight. And don''t feel bad that you didn''t notice them before the ambush. I only noticed by chance." I said, tilting my head towards the bodies lying on the ground.


    "How did you notice, Instructor?" Asked Jim. "If I can ask."


    "Now''s not the time, Jim," I said with the slightest emphasis on his name and shift of my eyes to the side. I wasn''t sure if he got it, but I kept talking, "Head back the way we came. It should be clear. Then wait for the other squads if they aren''t already there. Send one back to report and one to skirt around the border of the forest until they find something."


    I didn''t want to say ''search for the spot where the turma of cavalry was ambushed'' due to the beastwoman. She probably heard everything we said for a while, but there was no point in not being cautious. Though I did not say the words, my eyes shifted to the saddle off to the side, and Kathren gave a nod of acknowledgment as I looked back at her before her eyes darted to the side, and her face reddened.


    "The rest of you," I continued, "Wait for me until I get back."


    "What if you don''t, Instructor," Asked Lutious, throwing a wary glance over my shoulder.


    I followed his look, seeing the beastwoman standing there inspecting and scraping at something under her nails, seemingly ignoring us. "I''ll be fine," I said, shaking my head, "Whatever she wants, she wants me to report it, and she''s strong enough to make sure I come back alive."


    They gave half-convinced nods of the head, but I jerked my head to the side, signaling them to leave. We were wasting time, and I had a feeling deep in my stomach that we were running out.


    Less than a minute later, their back was turned to me, and I was watching them leave.


    "Well, I guess we should begin," Whispered a hushed breathy voice in my ear.

 Chapter 27

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    It was not a single brilliant flash of lightning. One could not even describe it as a rapid series of bolts falling to the earth.


    Bars of raw power fell from the storm-covered heavens, rending the ground with its fury. A fury that the knights harnessed for our defense.


    The bodies and stones in the lightning''s path were vaporized and melted into slag. And the bodies not in the immediate path of the lighting burst into flames dozens at a time.


    For one long second after another, all we could hear was a popping, cracking, burning roar of the lighting. The static charge building in the air for hours reached a crescendo as balls of shimmering blue rose into the air with our hair.


    And the air. The air that was damp and cool from the rain one moment became humid the next and was filled with a sharp tang.


    Faster than the quickest arrows, four bars of lightning raced through the passages and chambers of the Gauntlet, guided by the knights floating in the air.


    Tens of thousands of beastmen were burned to ash in seconds. Thousands more were consumed by the flames lighting up the smoldering fortress in the rain-soaked night.


    Even as the lightning rang in our ears, the legionaries rushed forward through the attack''s aftermath. They knew they needed the room. The room to retreat as the hoard pushed us back once more.


    Because we still had not done enough.


    **********


    I flinched in surprise at her voice, and my back stiffened with sudden tension, but I kept myself from jumping or lashing out, so I counted it as a win.


    Ignoring her, I turned and slowly walked away, loosening up my arms with a couple of swings as I headed to where my bow lay on the ground. Probably should have gotten it sooner, but I was distracted, and it is not like a few more seconds lying on the ground would hurt it. But if she was an enemy, it could have got you killed. Whispered a thought in the back of my mind.


    Bending down to pick up my bow, I heard a whistle which I ignored as I inspected the bow. Not seeing any damage, I slung it over my shoulder as I gave a quick look at the arrows scattered about on the ground. None looked reusable, as I could easily spot broken or cracked shafts, so I left them and turned to face the beastkin.


    "So," I said, "How did you know you could find me again? And what did you want me to see?"


    I could see the flood of thoughts flashing behind her intense eyes as they bore into me. Then she leaned forward slightly. I couldn''t stop it. Didn''t even know what I was doing until my eyes were moving back to her face after dropping to her chest. It was only for the briefest of moments, but I caught her perpetual superior smile shift slightly, becoming more assured, and I knew she noticed my look.


    Which sucked as she already had the advantage, and this only added to it. Not to mention that looking and getting caught was more than a bit embarrassing. Subtlety was a thing, after all.


    My cheeks flushed as I met her knowing eyes. The worst part was it wasn''t even worth the glance. She was wearing skin-tight layered black and green leather armor. Not the good kind that gives nearly zero protection and outlines a figure, but the well-made, smushy useful kind of armor. Anything interesting I might have seen was well hidden, but I still couldn''t help looking.


    Not that my glance was a complete loss, as I did notice that she wore a pair of bracelets, a knife on her thigh, and a few pouches at her waist. For whatever good that did.


    The strangest thing was her armor looked¡­ well, better made than mine.


    ¡°Hmm¡­ I knew you would be here because I trusted that someone who showed your abilities would make it to the action. And there are many things I wish to show you," She said while one of her tails ran down the side of her body, "but for now, follow."


    A moment later, she had turned and was running through the forest without a sound.


    I stood still for a second, a little shaken by her abrupt change of attitude. Then I shook my head, throwing off the thoughts as I sprinted after her to catch up.


    As I got about ten feet from her, she sped up a little, easily keeping me at that distance while I kept pace as best I could. It was easy to tell she was holding herself back.


    As a branch cracked under my foot, I thought for a moment if I should turn back. She seemed to know where she was going and wanted speed over silence. I was taking a lot on faith that she wanted me alive as we ran through an obviously enemy-infested forest. But still¡­ what I can learn is worth the chance of death.


    For a while, we wound our way through the forest at a run. Gradually the beastwoman let me inch closer to her. When I got within arms reach, something started bothering me, and it was growing worse.


    Focusing my mind on my passive senses of mental energy, I tried to feel the surrounding area, but I felt nothing. That didn''t mean shit, though, as whatever the beastkin used wasn''t mental energy. And I knew something was going on, even if I couldn''t detect what.


    I didn''t want to send out a pulse or use a casting to figure out what was bothering me, either. Whatever casting I performed might rebound off the beastwoman''s energy and uses for it ¡ª there was no way she felt as dangerous as she did without having some kind of energy ¡ª knocking me out again. It probably wouldn''t, but the chance was there. And for all I know, the beastkin can detect the usage of mental energy now.


    So I focused on my surroundings and let my eyes wander to whatever they were drawn to¡­


    The woman''s movements were the most graceful I had ever seen. She wove around obstacles with an elegance that spoke of a lifetime of practice and innate skill. But even she made mistakes at the speed we were moving.


    I frowned as I noticed another misstep. It was small. Tiny. But it was there and¡­ No. Fucking. Way! It can''t be¡­ How is that possible?


    While I was good at moving through the forest, I wasn''t at her level, so I was making more mistakes. Not major ones, but they were there. If I just put my foot down¡­


    The branch I was aiming for broke under my foot. I felt it. But if I was basing what I knew on sound, it would be like it had never happened. That it was my imagination.


    I slapped my arm through the branches of a bush I was running past. I saw the slap of the branches and leaves against my armor, and again, not a sound.


    None.


    Falling back a few steps, I slapped another bush¡­ and there was sound. Not enough, like it was muffled, but it was there. And still, I felt nothing.


    My step stuttered as something in the corner of my eye moved. Snapping my head to the side, I looked for danger. When I didn''t immediately see anything, I scanned the forest for what had caught my attention. It took a few seconds, but I eventually found it.


    I was looking too far away.


    This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    There was a shimmer in the air moving along with us as we ran, little spots in the air that were slightly fuzzy, like looking through your eyelashes. . Squinting my eyes, I focused on a spot in the middle of the air a few feet from me. Then I looked around us and noticed that shimmers were scattered everywhere.


    They were little spots in the air that were shimmering and lightly fuzzy, like looking through your eyelashes.


    Opening my mouth, I asked, "What are you doing?"


    I tried to ask, at least.


    My mouth opened. And it moved as I formed the words, and I even felt the vibration of air moving through my throat. The vibrations were extremely noticeable when you tried to speak but didn''t make a sound.


    "Hey~!" I shouted, drawing out the word for long seconds, trying to make a sound.


    "Do you have something to say?" Came the slightly mocking voice of the beastkin in my ear, startling me¡­ again. I ground my teeth together in annoyance at the smug tone in her voice.


    Gathering my will and mental energy, I lashed out with a telepathic strand. I intended to wrap it around her head, then unwind the smallest of strands I could manage to touch upon her internal energy and connect to her mind.


    My actions took only the smallest of moments, but during that instant, I did notice something strange. It was like my energy was moving through a stiff breeze.


    When my small tendril was bearly an inch from touching her head, our two energies made contact and began to rush toward each other and mix. The speed and force of the attraction was so strong that it caught me off guard, snapping the mental strand I was using to reach for her head halfway between us. I reeled in what was left of my mental energy as I suddenly sensed a fluctuation in the spot our two energies connected.


    "Hurgh!" Grunted the beastwoman as her body stiffened and went limp as she fell to the ground.


    Seeing her falling face first for the ground, I dove forward and sent all seven of the mental tendrils I could form to wrap around and catch her body.


    As the larger tendrils touched upon the shell of energy wrapping around her and slid through it to her body, I was only half surprised to feel the same jerking and sucking sensation eating away at my energy. Clamping down my will, I was able to fight off the suction force well though to maintain the integrity of my tendrils, but the interaction between our energies burned away at my reserves faster than I thought possible.


    From the moment I caught her in the air slowing her fall, to when she hit the ground a moment later, I burned away two-thirds of my energy reserves.


    Landing on the ground next to her, I grunted from the impact as I caught my breath. It wasn''t a physical weariness so much as the hollow feeling of having all that mental energy ripped from me all at once.


    ¡°Fuck¡­ That wa¡ª


    My words caught in my throat, and I froze in place. There were very few things in the world like the cool tip of a blade pressing into your throat. And while it had never happened to me before, I was pretty damn sure that was what was happening right now.


    "I saved your life," Hissed a low voice filled with fury, "And you attack me mentally?" There was a few seconds while the blade shivered as if in indecision, as her breathing grew heavier, "Maybe you''re not worth the effort after all¡­¡±


    "Wohhh~," I said, slowly turning my head to face her voice, the blade pressed further into my throat, drawing more blood, but I continued to turn my head. It seemed like she was close to a decision that was very bad for my future health. "I wasn''t attacking you," I said as calmly as I could once I was looking into her narrowed, burning eyes.


    Literally, her eyes were glowing with an inner fire that sent out whisps of flame from the corner of her eyes.


    Her eyes narrowed a little more, becoming slits, "How would I know that."


    "Know what?" I asked in confusion.


    "Thhat. You''reee. Teellinggg. Thee. Truth!" She growled out through her extremely long, glistening fangs. They didn''t look that long before. I thought as I tried to swallow with my dry mouth.


    "What do you mean?" I asked in confusion, "You ju¡­ Ahh¡­" I trailed off as my eyes widened in shock. This had never happened to me before. Never even occurred to me. Then I thought of something, "Ohh! Can''t beastkin smel¡­"


    My voice wilted under her burning eyes, "No! We can''t smell lies!"


    In The Republic of Olimpia, and even the Imperium, lying was nearly impossible. One in a hundred thousand might be able to obscure the truth when someone was probing their mind. But it was easy to tell when someone was doing it if you knew what you were looking for.


    The people that can partition their minds so one side can have thoughts and actions without the other knowing were few and far between. Only in legends and horror stories did individuals exist who could partition their minds and then layer one on top of the other to hide their real motivations.


    As a rule of thumb, if someone left their mind open, they were being honest and inviting anyone to probe it to make sure of that fact. The most anyone did was ask another to open their mind to prove their honesty, not ask how to trust their word. Even a child could feel when someone was speaking the truth to them when the speaker''s mind was open.


    I couldn''t fathom living in such a world, at never really being able to trust anyone. How could a society function and trust one another, never knowing if anyone was honest? That''s just¡­ absurd.


    When the blade she was holding to my throat sunk a little deeper into my throat, I was pulled back from my thoughts to what was important.


    Thinking of a way to prove I didn''t attack her. Theirs no way. Not without her scanning me. Which she can''t. I would have to¡­ Shit. I gotta attack her.


    I closed my eyes as I gathered what was left of my willpower and mental energy. This would be tricky, and I might not even be able to do it. Not without killing one of us, at least. And I was getting a stronger feeling that whatever she was going to show me was important.


    Opening my eyes, I saw her glare, and she seemed to sigh as I shook my head slightly, "I thought not."


    As her body tensed, I lashed out with my mental energy. I was not gentle. It was not a wisp of delicate power meant to probe. Instead, it was a hardened bar meant to stab into her mind.


    From my three ¡ª Four? Two and a half? Ehh, it doesn''t matter ¡ª encounters with whatever energy the beastkin use, I learned some things. Hopefully.


    I tried to compress my energy as much as possible as it slammed into her mind, causing her body to freeze up.


    My telepathic working surged forward as it impacted the wall of energy surrounding her head and blasted it deeper into her skin. Then I tried to send my energy into her body.


    As soon as my energy tried to enter her head, it met with her internal energy, and time seemed to slow around us.


    Her energy was¡­ welcoming? No, that wasn''t it. It just wasn''t hostel and eating away at my energy. Which by itself was strange.


    It was unlike anything I had heard or experienced before.


    I could read, feel, and hear her thoughts and emotions through the turmoil of her energy. And she was overflowing with burning anger, hiding an underlying fear of death. I could feel that she thought, in this moment that kept stretching on and on, that I had betrayed her while she was trying to save the lives of both our people. And all of the anger was directed at me. Fuck¡­ I groaned mentally. This isn''t going to end well for me.


    As more of my energy forced its way inside her mind, she became aware of my intrusion. And an instant later, she rallied her mind and hastily started gathering energy.


    Her first effort to push me out was futile. Her internal energy washed over the end of my bar like a soft breeze, but I felt the backlash of her failed attack sending ripples of agony through her mind.


    Moments after I felt the mind-blanking pain tear through her, she was gathering her willpower and energy, readying herself to lash out at me again. Even as she readied herself for an internal attack, the shell around her body was eating away at my bar of energy connecting us. All without her conscious effort. I could tell, being able to see her mind and all.


    I stopped sending my energy into her body, as I was sure that would only harm her further. Instead, I used my energy as a bridge for my will as I sent her all of my thoughts and emotions. I tried to make it as brief as possible while filling it with as many emotions and thoughts as I could. "It was an accident¡­ I''m sorry¡­"


    Even as I sent the message, I tried pulling my mental energy out of her body. But my efforts to pull back only increased the pace at which pieces of my mental bar broke off in her mantel of energy.


    My bar splintered into a strand from the crushing and corrosive nature of the shroud, then a string, as I tried to pull my mental energy from her mind through the shrinking bridge. Despite the challenges, I was able to remove most of my energy from her mind, but even with my best efforts, I couldn''t get it all.


    It was close. So close. I was pulling on the last remnants of energy with my will as the final strand of my bar snapped. With all of my focus on pulling my energy out of her head and my bridge crumbling and unable to take the strain, I left my mental energy pooling between her skin and the mantle of energy.


    When the last strand snapped, my will holding the energy went with it. All at once, my accumulated energy scattered into the beastkin''s external energy shroud creating a cascade as the two mixed and reacted with each other.


    The mixing energy bulged out in an eruption, connecting with what was left of my bar. The explosion then started eating away and spreading down the bar of mental energy.


    Whether because of my mental exhaustion or the surge of mixing energies exponentially increasing the pull, I couldn''t retain the integrity of my tendril as it was enveloped. And as more of my energy was ripped away, it shocked my mind, making me unable to pull back or cut off my energy. All I could do was watch as all but the smallest specks of mental energy still inside of me was consumed.


    Completely hollowed out, the world around me turned black as I passed out.

 Chapter 28

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    More than half of our over-strength legion ¡ª numbering 9350 before the hoard came ¡ª lay within the hundred thousand bodies of the beasts and our broken fort. 5000 brave men and women.


    There should be no way to view that as anything other than the greatest of victories. When else had so few killed so many? Had held out so long?


    Yet it was common to hear the whispers ¡ª among those who had the energy to talk at least ¡ª ''have we done anything to the hoard?'' or ''Will we stop the hoard?''


    I knew the answer. All those on the battlements and towers did. The fires burning in our fortress revealed the edges of the hoard. Seeing those shadowy figures in the night beyond and within the walls was bad enough.


    When the lightning fell, lighting up the world, anyone who whispered the question would have known the answers if they were on the walls. I could not see its edge.


    And yet I was not surprised. I had yet to see the edges of the hoard once in all the days and nights we had fought.


    But at that moment, we unleashed an attack that was the culmination of days of preparation and weeks of planning, bought with our legion''s blood and death. An attack that might have been the single most devastating attack we humans had ever unleashed was utterly insignificant and worthless in its face.


    All it did was buy us time to watch our deaths approach. A slower death.


    **********


    My head throbbed.


    I didn''t move my eyes, I knew better, but the darkness within my eyelids still felt like it spun around me. Slowly the world regained its balance, and I was left with just the caltrops lodged behind my eyes.


    They two would eventually fade away as my mental energy returned, but a minor ache in the back of my head will remain for a day or two. I was not looking forward to it.


    ¡°Heergg¡­" I groaned as I tried to roll over.


    "Stay still." Said an exasperated voice, ¡°Just¡­ Hmm, wait a min¡ª There we go."


    I felt a hand press against my head, covering my eyes and pushing me firmly back to the ground. For a few seconds, I was left to wonder what she was talking about, then I felt something prob at my head.


    At first, I wasn''t sure what was happening. Thought it was my imagination, but then energy poured into me.


    Shock stopped me from acting for a moment, as the energy seemed unhindered by the natural defenses a person should have, but I got past my surprise and acted.


    Gathering up my scraps of mental energy despite the jabs of pain as I over-exerted myself, I threw them at the energy flooding into me.


    As the two energies connected, the invading energy latched onto mine and¡­ shifted.


    That was the only way I can describe it.


    The invading energy entered my body, connected to my mental energy, and became my mental energy.


    It wasn''t much energy, about a sixteenth of my total reserves, but it was enough that my head stopped throbbing. And the ache that comes after slowly regenerating one''s mental energy over a day was nowhere to be felt.


    Well, it might be there, but the line of pain on my forearm, my neck, and other spots across my back and legs drowned out the pain in my head to nothing.


    The hand pulled away, and I waited a second before opening my eyes and blinking a few times to clear them.


    I was on my back, looking up at the forest that was an hour from sunset. The limbs and leaves of the trees groaned in the soft breeze caressing my face.


    Closing my eyes for a second, I enjoyed the wind as it brought the rich scents of grass, trees, and earth.


    The creek and groan of leather moving next to me told me it was time to face the beastkin.


    Opening my eyes, I turned my head and flashed my best smile at the woman. "Glad to see that you decided not to kill me."


    Her ears perked up for a moment, and I might have seen concern on her face as I turned to face her. Then she scowled at me and looked annoyed.


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    She was seated three feet to my left with her back to a large tree, the roots of the massive old tree poking out of the ground in a half-ring. Combined with a natural divot, we were at the bottom of a bowl. As I turned to look to my right, I saw a boulder making up the last wall of our little shelter.


    With a few grunts and me throwing more charming smiles as Miss Grumpy-glare to try and lessen her annoyance, I repositioned myself, putting my back to the rock, facing her.


    "We should talk." said the beastwoman in a normal tone of voice.


    I gave a look of concern before looking at the sky and trees over the edge of our hiding place.


    She only snorted, "Hump, no one will hear us. So long as you don''t brake my spell and know me out¡­ again."


    I smiled sheepishly at her and rubbed the back of my head, ¡°Yeah¡­ Umm, sorry about that. I was just trying to talk to you." I didn''t add that her smug attitude might have caused me to try and open a mental link between us in a way that some¡­ might consider¡­ rude. Ok, a borderline attack, but I didn''t mean for it to be that way!


    She gave me a flat stair that made me squirm. "And that is the only reason that you are still alive." She finally said.


    My smile froze on my face at her words, as I could tell that she meant them.


    Taking a moment, I closed my eyes and then took a long deep breath.


    Opening them, I gave her a friendly smile, "How bout we start over a little, I''m Green." I said, leaning forward and sticking out my arm.


    She looked at me for a few long seconds, and I stayed in place before she gave a slight nod. "Kaneita," She said, sticking out her own hand and clasping my forearm with it.


    We held onto each other for a second, looking the other in the eye before letting go and leaning back.


    As I settled back down, I could feel the lightening of the atmosphere in our little shelter after the simple act of exchanging our names. It wasn''t entirely friendly, but it was better than our constant tension and weariness since our first meeting.


    There was something to be said for building the foundation of a relationship when both parties had the opportunity to kill the other and chose not to.


    "So," I said, "Care to explain how you refilled my energy reserves? I mean, don''t get me wrong, I''m thankful and all, but it''s a well-accepted fact that what you just did was impossible," I looked around for someone in the little bowl, "Oh, and what we''re supposed to be doing out here. I guess that''s kind of important."


    A smile twitched at her lips. "You would rather ask about how I gave you my mana rather than what we are going in the forest that will save the lives of tens of thousands?"


    ¡°¡­Yes?" I asked more than said. I mean, really, I was more interested in the answer at this moment. It might change soon, but curiosity ruled me for now.


    Her smile filled her entire face, and she threw back her head as she laughed. Eventually, she regained control, wiping away some tears from her eyes, then looked at me.


    "Ok, I''ll sate your curiosity." She said, "Mana, what we call our energy, is very adaptable. If we inject it straight from our bodies into yours, it will convert to your psy and refill your reserves, or overflow if it is already full, leaking out of you."


    "Mental energy," I offhandedly corrected before asking her to clarify her caveat, "What happens if it''s not direct."


    A look of discomfort and unease passed over her face for a moment, "Searing agony and eventually death. Usually, at least. Sometimes people survive. Physically at least, their minds aren''t whole afterward."


    Her face twisted with a look like she was looking back into her memory at something unpleasant. "Some find pleasure in threatening prisoners with that fate¡­" Then she blinked as a thought occurred to her. "Wait, isn''t psy the accepted term for your people? I thought mental energy was outdated."


    My back stiffened at the remark, "Psy is the world the human scholars have been peddling the last few hundred years. Mental energy is the traditional usage of us elves. So you are saying that you can completely refill my pool once I run dry?"


    "Ohhh, I see," She said, a teasing smirk appearing on her face, "And no. Through my people''s testing through mana and psy energies, psy users have significantly larger pools of internal energy. For example, how much of your psy pool did I fill?"


    I squinted my eyes at Kaneita, who was giving me a look like butter wouldn''t melt in her mouth. She was the picture of innocence as she blinked at me with an expectant look on her face. Finally, I said, "My mental energy pool was refilled to about a sixteenth of its maximum."


    "Ohh," she said, holding a hand up to her face and tails lifting over her head with a look of shock and pity, "I''m so sorry. I guess that you''re smaller than average. Most get even less psy than that."


    My jaw was clenched in annoyance at her, and I really thought of using the tiny bit of mental energy I had and picking up a rock and smacking her with it.


    "Anyway," she said cheerily, in her sweet dripping voice, "We have found that while we have less mana, we can regenerate our mana far faster. See¡ª


    She abruptly leaned forward, poking me in the leg with a finger through a hole in my pants I don''t remember getting, releasing another burst of energy into my body.


    "I have already fully recharged my mana," She continued as she sat back. My annoyance with her was vanishing as she shared her knowledge. "So we can last longer. Also, whenever we cast a spell ¡ª that''s what we call our usage of mana ¡ª the world itself reinforces our spells adding to its power. So we aren''t at as much of a disadvantage as you would think. Also, mana can do more with less training compared to¡­ psy."


    I let the information sink in. It was¡­ fascinating. The world itself helping reinforce and power a casting¡­ it would be amazing! But one thing was bothering me.


    "Do you know why my people are affected in such ways while you don''t directly inject energy?"


    She shook her head, "Nope, never been able to figure that out."


    Our conversation continued as we talked about more complex mana usage and mental energy and if there was any relation.


    As we talked, she would lean forward and push her energy into me, speeding up my recovery.


    "Ahh, there we go," Kaneita said when she injected me with her mana, and I started overflowing with mental energy as she filled me up. "I guess we can get going now that you''re full."


    "Hmm? Oh, yeah!" I said, starting to get up, following her lead, "Guess I am full of mental energy¡­ Wait! You never said where we are going!"


    Throwing a look back at me when she was already mostly over the root, she said, "Guess not, huh?" Then she finished her vault and started running into the night forest.

 Chapter 29

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    The centurions and tribunes tried to stop the spreading of the reality of our situation. They kept those manning the few walls we still held separated from those slogging through the trenches.


    All they did was slow down the spread of the news. Everyone needed the few supplies we still had, and those delivering them would talk as much as anyone else. Word of the endless hoard spreading outside our feeble defenses was spread through that long night.


    When morning came, everyone knew. Hearing the mutters of those nearby as numb shock caused them to whisper what they were told was common.


    It did not matter, though. The news changed nothing.


    In the back of our minds, from the first moment we saw what we were facing, we knew our end. No one would so much as whisper the words we all were thinking, but we knew.


    The Gauntlet would be our graves.


    So while we no longer fought with the hope of seeing the world outside of those blood-stained walls, we still fought. Even those of us who were of the first generation picked up weapons. Because we would not let those beasts kill us without a hefty price.


    As hope died, a savage vengeance overtook us. Risky actions that no one would take for the risk of death become more and more common as we were pushed back over the bodies of the dead.


    And then we were at the core of the Gauntlet, a series of seven walls with gates on opposite sides leading to a final fortress. A defense we did not have the legionaries to hold.


    **********


    The night was fully upon us as we silently passed under the boughs of the Northern Forest. And though the transition between the animals of the day and night was long since passed, the forest was eerily quiet.


    Part of it was me running next to Kaneita and her silence¡­ spell. She didn''t tell me what the name of it was, but, really¡­ what else could it be called?


    The spell blocks the sound we make but anything around us as well. So being by her would inherently mean the forest was eerily quiet. But! But I went to the edge of the spell when I saw an open patch of ground I could pass on without making any noise, and there still wasn''t any noise.


    Something was happening, and the entire forest could feel it. And the decision to take the prudent actions of running away or staying in their homes, hoping that it just passed them by.


    And I''m the idiot running towards it. I grumped to myself, feeling slightly uneasy.


    Dropping into a readies stance, I silently scanned the area around us as my body tingled. Kaneita had stopped running and crouched down, causing adrenalin to be dumped into me as I readied for action.


    Nothing happened. For long seconds I scanned the forest, my senses telling me something was out there. Eventually, I realized she wasn''t preparing for an attack but looking at something on the ground.


    Heart pounding in my chest, I took some deep breaths trying to calm down my twitchy nerves as I walked forward to crouch down next to her and see what she was looking at.


    When I could look over her shoulder, all I saw was a patch of dirt with a few stones on it. Gathering my will, I sent out a weak pulse, going back to checking on our surroundings.


    Kaneita whirled around, grabbing my wrist and looking up at me with intense eyes, "Don''t do that!" She harshly hissed. "The barrier can react to your pulses and will alert those inside if it''s too strong."


    I nodded and raised my other hand, signaling I was stepping back and just watching. Even though I had no idea what she was talking about. This was, after all, her show. I was just an observer.


    She gave a huff of annoyance as she turned and started poking at the ground again.


    Minutes passed as I waited, trying to stay calm as I shifted on my feet, watching the surrounding bushes and trees for anything approaching with the light of the moon.


    Then I saw Kaneita pull back sharply. Lifting her arms, I looked to see what she was doing, only to furrow my brows in surprise. A three feet long and one foot wide granite plate was lying on the ground right in front of Kanieta.


    It wasn''t there before. Right? Yeah¡­ Umm, ok. It wasn''t there before, but now it is¡­ Yep. That makes sense.


    "The fuck that come from?" I asked.


    "It was there the whole time. It was just covered by an illusion I shifted to avoid it." Kaneita responded, pride filling her voice. I was startled that she answered. I hadn''t actually expected her to hear me. Though, I hadn''t tried to talk since we left the bowl.


    Made sense as we were talking in the bowl, but¡­ Fuck¡­ I''m an idiot. I could have been getting so much more information.


    "Illusion?" I asked, hoping that she would explain.


    "It''s a warping and rearranging of light to show what we want seen. Usually supported with other spells to make you subconsciously avoid studying the illusion." She explained.


    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    I frowned, looking at the slab of rock and then at the encircling forest.


    Slowly, I turned, focusing my mind inward, searching for the slightest ripple.


    Eventually, I stopped.


    I was looking at the forest past Kanieta and the stone plate. There was an ever so slight urging to skip looking in that direction. It made me feel uneasy and want to avoid moving in that direction.


    It explained why I was feeling so anxious, waiting behind the beastkin as she did whatever she was doing.


    I was just marking it up to being out here surrounded by enemies. But I had been in enemy territory dozens of times before, and I hadn''t felt this anxious since I first became a scout.


    Now that I noticed it, I blocked out the intrusive feelings with a thought.


    Settling behind her, I calmly watched her hands hover above the intricately carved stone plate. Sometimes her fingers would twitch, or her hands would move to the side or up and down on occasion.


    I had no idea what she was doing, and even if I used all of my power to try and sense what she was going, I doubt I would get anything more than something was happening.


    Within a minute of me settling in, Kanieta let out a grunt of satisfaction as she dropped a rock onto the plate, and the forest in front of us was pulled apart.


    Literally, the forest was pulled to the sides in a ragged triangle seven feet tall and four wide on the ground.


    Head shifting towards me slightly, she spoke, "Hurry up and move through. Don''t touch the sides or the plate."


    Immediately moving forward after her words, I stepped to her right side and then took two quick steps forward before diving through the hole.


    It seemed like the easiest and fastest way to get through.


    Turning my dive into a roll, I popped to my feet with my sword drawn, looking for enemies.


    All there was to be seen or heard was a quiet giggling behind me, no enemies in sight. "That was¡­ dramatic."


    The words caused my ears to redden, and I quickly sheathed my weapon and turned around.


    She was crouched down, ensuring she was clear of the edges, then stepped forward before turning around and grabbing the rock.


    The shimmering wall didn''t snap shut. Instead, it slowly closed, leaving Kanieta plenty of time to pull back her arm.


    With the gap shut, I was left looking at¡­ I really couldn''t say. I would guess a forest, but that was because I came from the other side and knew it was there.


    All I could say for sure from looking at this side of the veil was that there were fuzzy blobs on the other side.


    "Hey!" looking to the side, I saw an annoyed Kanieta twenty feet away, waving for me to join her.


    I entered the clump of bushes that she was crouched down in, crouching next to her.


    She leaned close to me, putting her lips right next to my ears, whispering, "From here on out, don''t use any bursts of energy. They will detect anything but the most controlled usages of psy."


    If I hadn''t already been there, her words would have brought me to my highest level of alertness and readiness for danger.


    "Can I use tendrils and a body shield?" I asked, moving my head to her ear to whisper into it.


    "It should be fine," She replied, and I immediately covered my whole body except for small spots for my ears and nose instead of just my legs as I was doing when we traveled.


    After a few seconds of the shield covering me, she suddenly leaned forward and sniffed at the air around me. Then gave me a nod of approval.


    She looked at me for a moment, and I felt something brush against my shield, then she gave me an approving look. Then Kanieta mouthed the word, ''ready?''


    I gave her a thumbs up, and she silently turned and started moving through the forest.


    This wasn''t the absolute silence of her spell. No, this was pure skill. Her body glided around the obstacles of the forest, sliding past the reaching branches and snaring roots. Her feet rolled her weight across the leaves and twigs scattered over the ground, leaving them undisturbed in her wake.


    I followed behind her, using all my skills to keep pace. If I had to do it without using my mental powers, I would have never been able to. Not so long as I was meant to remain silent.


    And even now, I was limiting my usage of mental powers to a bare minimum. If my shield was fine, then dampening any noise I made should be fine too, but I didn''t want to push it.


    Muffling any noise my skill couldn''t prevent and pushing the hunting skills my father taught me to the limit, I kept up the fast walking pace we were traveling at for long minute after minute.


    I was mainly focused on keeping up the pace, but a part of my mind never stopped sweeping the forest with my eyes. Looking for anything of potential danger.


    At first, I saw nothing, but as we traveled, I started catching flashes of firelight through the trees. More of those flashes appeared until we topped a rise, and I looked down at a valley filled with campfires.


    Campfires which lit up the walls of a stone fort. A fort securing this side of a bridge that arched over the Rush.


    A bridge that, even now, had troops marching over it using the moonlight to see, as I saw no other light source. I felt my stomach fall to my feet.


    On the other side of the river, I could see a number of campfires that outnumbered the number on this side several times over.


    We''re going to be overwh¡ª


    Looking down, I saw and felt Kanieta tugging on my arm and shaking her head. Leaning down, I heard the slightest of whispers, "Not that."


    She turned me to the side, and I followed her along the outside edge of the slight rise from the fort until we were a couple hundred yards from the river.


    When we stopped, we got a clear view of the river. Then Kanieta turned and pointed at a natural cove on the river.


    Staying in a crouch, I moved over to her and looked down.


    At first, I didn''t know what I was looking at.


    The cove was lit up with a few fires burning on the beach, with beastkin moving around the sand carrying wood planks to large rafts I would almost call barges beached on the shore. Most of the wood was being gathered on the deck, and they were constructing something in the decks center. But I just coul¡ª


    "Oh, shit¡­" I whispered in horror. It was fucking genius. Taking advantage of a flaw that, until now, had no reason to even be considered to be a weakness.


    The beastkin had built barges with towers on them. Towers that could be used raised and connected to the bridges spanning the river between the forts of the Triad.


    If we were drawn to the battlements and they come with those, cutting us in half, we won''t stand a chance¡­ They could slaughter us in hours.


    Turning to Kanieta, I said one word, "Why." She was undermining a battle plan that was as close to a guaranteed victory as a battle can have.


    She replied to me with a single word in turn that was more of a sigh of resentment, "Politics."

 Chapter 30

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    As we fell back and what was left of the legion continued to be killed, our fight against the hoard couldn''t even be called a battle. Though it remained what it had always been: a slaughter slowly playing out.


    We did not have the men to properly man the seven walls leading to the final fortress, let alone the walls surrounding the innermost ring of the Gauntlet. It made any lines impossible to form, as a beastman flyer would crash into its center moments after its formation. Our only choice was a scrambling retreat to reach the fortress¡¯s gates.


    With the predictable end drawing near, many legionaries threw away their lives for a single kill. All so they didn''t have to see the end of the legion. So they didn''t have to be the ones living out the last moments, knowing we failed.


    Though hundreds gave up in that final retreat, most of us held on to our desire to fight. Because we had nowhere else to go. The beasts would accept no surrender, and the ships on the river had long since been swarmed by flyers and swamped by what was now a churning river of blood.


    All we had left to cling to was lashing out at those who would destroy us and keeping the last two cohorts fighting in good order until the end. For we would not dishonor ourselves or our legion.


    A glaring reality was facing us as we stumbled into our final fortress, bloody and nearly broken. We could not hold all of the fortresses'' floors, not for any length of time. So we went down.


    We went into the tunnels hollowed out to feed our insatiable need for stone projectiles. Tunnels that the few remaining knights spent the last few hours in, digging air vents up to the surface.


    It was a black, lightless maze of corridors and chambers with one way in and no way out. And we, the last two cohorts composed of the remnants of our once grand legion, descended into them.


    We descended into our tomb, chased by monsters sporting the features of humans.


    **********


    "What?'' I asked, feeling somewhat confused, but I kind of understood at the same time. An unfortunate reality of the world was many military decisions were decided by senators and nobles driven by political motivations and not military realities, but this was something else.


    It was worse than treason because she was betraying more than whatever nation the beastkin had formed. She was betraying her very race.


    She shook her head, giving a meaningful look at our surroundings, then motioned to the side, signaling me to follow.


    We went down the rise back towards the barrier, where we settled down in a small thicket of trees.


    I turned to her, opening my mouth to whisper when her hand clamped down, covering my mouth. She was looking to the side, and her ears were shifting and twitching.


    I couldn''t see anything within the shadows and silvery light of the forest lit by the moon, and all I could hear was the distant sounds of a camp, but something was obviously wrong. And I was missing it.


    Without warning, she spun in my direction, pushing me to the ground, then leaping over me, letting a growl bubble out of her throat.


    I moved to get up and draw my blade, but her tails fell over my body, causing me to stop in surprise and covering my upper body, though I could not feel their softness through my shield.


    A pity¡­ I was surprised by the thought. And that one of my hands was reaching to stroke a tail, but then again, her tails was really soft.


    "Show yourself!" Kanieta shouted into the darkness, "I know you''re out there." At the same time she spoke, she turned her body as if looking around, but she stomped her foot down onto my wrist, pushing it to the ground before stepping off.


    Finally, getting her unstated point, I stopped trying to move and completely sealed my body shield.


    Even with a full body shield like I had when moving through enemy territory, the ears and nose were left uncovered. Have to have some way to breathe and hear, after all.


    However, it is possible to cover those openings for a short time. The problem was that you won''t be able to hear, and it''ll take most of the caster''s attention to get barely enough air to stay conscious.


    I closed my eyes and tried to slow my heartbeat with deep, slow breathing. There is nothing I can do to change the situation. It is what it is, and she would deal with it or not. My help will only get us killed. I thought to myself like it was a mantra.


    One of the techniques taught to scouts was air pumping. It required forming a box from mental energy to trap the air and then creating a small hole and shrinking the box to funnel the air into my mouth and nose as I inhaled. And then, funneling the air, I exhaled into another chamber before repeating the process.


    Air pumping is not something that can be done long-term. The only way to ensure you get a full breath is to form multiple chambers and combine them, pressurizing the air you are collecting, which almost always leads to injury. Someone could make a large box to collect air, but that would be far more likely to be noticed, not to mention the power requirements of making it. And if they had that much mental power, why would they be in the scout cohort?


    What it came down to was that we scouts had to focus past the feeling of suffocating while keeping multiple castings going simultaneously. It was the most challenging thing we scouts had to learn, and it was far more difficult than it sounded. And it sounded like torture. To graduate, all we had to do was hold the workings for a minute. A single nightmare-inducing¡­ minute.


    Stay calm. Collect the air and breathe in.


    Calm, just be patient. Breathe out and collect the air.


    It will be over soon. One breath after another. I continued to process the air.


    Lay here, paiten¡ª shit! "Haa!"


    Trying to keep my body still, I coughed, hacking out the small thing I had breathed in. I hardly even made it ten seconds.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    I only coughed a couple times and moved a slight bit, but it completely destroyed the balance I was trying to keep. My heart started pounding out of my chest and pumping in my ears as I struggled to fight against the all-consuming need to suck in all the air I could get.


    Once my coughing died down, I cracked open my shell for my nose and ears and sucked in a breath of air as slowly as I could. It wasn''t that slow. Or quiet. But it apparently went unnoticed.


    ¡°¡ªhere, Fox." Said a guttural male voice that had the same drawn-out accent as Kanieta, "This is our operation and the Crescent Moon faction''s territory. You belong on the other side of the river, and your very presence can be taken as a challenge¡­" his voice dropped into a snarl at the end, and two more snarls joined him.


    "Get off your high perch, Helgu," Sighed Kanieta, "We both know that we have found plenty of¡­ ''lost'' members of your faction wandering around our territory. I was tracking the trail of the most recent to see where they came from. You know, just to ensure they weren''t from the Olimpians or Deep Dwellers. When I came across this camp, I just had to¡ª


    "Lies! We didn''t send any¡ª" the guttural speaker cut off his words, and there was an awkward silence hanging in the air.


    "So~," Kanieta said, in a satisfied tone, "You admit that you sent the others?"


    ¡°¡­I admit nothing, Fox! And for all anyone kn¡ª" This time, he cut off his words, and loud sniffing noise could be heard. ¡°What¡­ Is¡­ That¡­ It almost smells¡­ li¡ª


    I was staring up at the star-speckled night sky, and the voices were to my right, on the other side of the bush I was lying next to. Kanieta was nowhere in sight, not that it would have mattered at this point.


    Once the beastkin started sniffing, I knew that he had smelled me.


    Lifting my legs to my chest and rolling towards my head, I threw my body the other way and kicked out with my feet. My body was thrown off the ground with the force of my kick, and I started to rotate.


    I landed on the balls of my feet in a crouch, hand on my sword''s hilt. I twisted my body as I drew my sword, then extended my right arm in a thrust, lunging toward the sniffing as I plunged through the bush between us.


    With my speed and the obstacles in my way, I only had a fraction of a second to correct my aim when I saw my mistake. My blade was far too low. I tried to angle my blade higher when I saw the hulking figure I was moving towards, but it only changed by a few inches.


    At the end of my sudden attack, my blade was pushing into the sternum of a massive wolven beastkin, my body was half supported by the bush, and I was looking up at him in his enraged glowing eyes.


    My eyes flicked down to my blade, which had been stopped cold a hand''s span from his robes before going back to his face. ¡°Well¡­ shit." I said, then flashed the beastkin a smile, "How would yo¡ª Ahh~!"


    I closed my eyes as I let out a scream and flinched back.


    After a moment, I opened my eyes when I didn''t feel a spear of ice through my chest.


    The spear was hanging in the air a foot from my eye. Tied around the middle of the shaft was¡­ darkness.


    It was an impassable shadow in the moonlight. Its edges were blurry with many twisting peaks, bleeding away to nothing as if it was all smoke. Following the rope of shadow, I saw it tied to one of Kanieta''s tails.


    Her other three tails each had another strand of shadow stabbing out from the tips. While the shadow strand holding onto the shard of ice looked vague and soft, the others were¡­ condensed.


    I wanted to avoid going right ahead and classifying what I could only describe as shadow tendrils in one category or another. After all, who am I to judge such things?


    My whole experience with physical shadows was seeing one gaseous stream of shadow and three shimmering bars. Not much to draw on.


    That would be in typical situations ¡ª like friends showing off something new in front of each other. With the three hard rods sticking through the chests of the other beastkin, I was confident in judging that it was hard as steel. My blade didn''t do shit, so it has to be stronger than that, right? I thought to myself.


    On the other hand, I was pretty sure darkness was, you know, where light isn''t. Not a scholar or anything, but I''m sure there was no substance there. I was sure, at least.


    "That''s interesting," I said with wide eyes looking at the bodies surrounding Kanieta held up with her power. Her raw power.


    "For you, maybe," She replied in a superior tone, turning her head to look at me, something dancing in her eyes. "Let''s go."


    Her tails flicked to the sides, and the bodies flew through the air thumping into the ground with loud thumps. The shard of ice went in another direction, vanishing into the dark forest.


    Without another word, she took off at a run.


    I looked at the bodies and the casual display of power she just showed in killing them. My attack wasn''t that great, okay, it was pretty shit, but I couldn''t even touch his armor¡­ Don''t make her mad. Yep. Got it. I thought to myself before turning to race after her.


    Within a minute of moving at a run, we arrived a the fuzzy ''illusion'' wall. Kaneita was already crouched down next to it, twitching her fingers and shifting her hands around.


    Instead of the dozens of minutes it took to get in here, she was barely crouched down for thirty seconds before reaching forward with one hand and dropping a rock onto the plate.


    The next moment she was through the opening, her tails trailing straight out behind her as she ran. Not waiting for an invitation, I jumped through the whole after her.


    It was a good thing that I did because the sides were closing even as I was passing through the passageway.


    From the falls of our feet, I could tell her silence spell was already up, so I retracted my shield as I followed in her footsteps. Pumping my arms and legs, I sped forward, trying to catch up to the beastkin.


    My efforts could not have done less, as I never closed those last two steps. Though, any time I sped up, she would keep that running pace, forcing me to keep it up if I wanted to be covered by her power. That was what I assumed as I continued to run, at least, not that she so much as looked over her shoulders to check on me.


    Settling into the pace, I used my harness to lighten my weight as I focused on putting one foot in front of the other.


    I was mildly annoyed at the situation. I got that we had to get away and all that, but her fluffy tails were blocking the view of her backside, so I didn''t even get a good view as we ran through the forest.


    We ran like that for what must have been more than an hour before she veered off to the side, entering a clump of trees.


    Following her, I stumbled to a stop and slumped against a tree as I breathed heavily, whipping off some sweat on my forehead.


    Kanieta was sitting on the ground, drinking from a waterskin she got from somewhere, her tails splayed out to her sides, curling towards her back. I would have guessed that she had been doing anything other than running for the last hour based on her appearance.


    ¡°So¡­" I gasped, elegantly starting the conversation, ¡°¡­politics?"


    Sighing, she said, "It''s simple, really, the Crescent Moon faction is in power¡­ for reasons. They want to kill all Olimpians. If they succeed here, they will have the credibility to pursue their goals with the clans and factions. My Red Tail faction wishes to prevent that.¡±


    "Why? Our people have been enemies for over a thousand years. Killing each other is¡­ expected. Normal even. By the Ancestor! Why are you even telling me this?"


    "Does it matter if I tell you these small¡­ morsels of information? It will change nothing. And they might begin to let your people understand what you''re dealing with¡­ Besides, you''re not our only enemy¡­ or even our worst." The last bit was added in a whisper, and I wasn''t sure I was supposed to hear it.


    "You mean the Imperium? I know they enslave beastkin¡­ shit, they enslave elves and humans. But unless you wanna form an alliance, we''re not getting rid of them any time soon." I threw it out there as an offhanded comment, but I watched to see her reaction.


    All she did was shake her head and look away like it was too much of a bother as her ears started twitching.


    Her demeanor changed suddenly as she turned and pointed, "Edge of the forest is that way, report to your people."


    ¡°¡­Okay," I said with a nod of the head. "How am I¡ª


    Before my eyes, the shadows around her reached out for her, enveloping her in a sphere. The shadows then dropped to the ground rolling out along it like a wave.


    ¡°¡­Huh. Guess we won''t be in touch then."

 Chapter 31

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    Even as we packed into the chambers, the hoard of beasts bayed at our heels, cramming into the tunnels and pushing us back.


    Within the confines of our tunnels, the hoard''s numbers meant nothing. The rear guard stood shoulder to shoulder, their blades flashing in the single flickering flame a knight summoned hanging overhead.


    It wasn''t much, as the light cast more shadows than light, but with their mental powers, it was enough.


    The legionaries filled the passage with the beastman dead. Soon, the dead were piled so high they were blocking all air and light, but the creatures still clawed their way through the dead to throw themselves at us.


    In those dark, echoing passageways, time passed. Knights pulled water from the earth for us to drink, and we waited for death, surviving off our stores of food.


    But the beasts never stopped coming. Hours turned to days and then weeks, and still, they boiled out of the piles of rotting bodies.


    We dug deeper and deeper, using the stones we mined as projectiles while we struggled to have room to fall back from the hoard. Because even though the legionaries killed the beasts as soon as their heads popped out of the pile of rotting flesh, their bodies remained.


    Remained and extended the dam of bodies by another head or torso. Our retreat was beyond slow, but it was steady.


    So we dug, and we fought.


    As the weeks passed, our food stores ran out, and we started cooking and eating the beastmen we killed.


    And still, they came for us, and we fought. We dug.


    We beat our wills against the crushing weight of stone and the dead. We survived.


    I have no idea how long we were down in that darkness, hearing the constant echoes of a battle. I have no desire to liner on the haunting memories for more than a moment longer than needed.


    I''ve seen them more than enough in my sleep.


    Eventually, after all our struggles ¡ª and for the second time in my life ¡ª the elves arrived to save us in our darkest moment. Saved us within an instant.


    **********


    Looking in the direction that Kanieta told me was the edge of the forest, I glanced around my surroundings for a moment before starting off. Time was not on my side. The night was more over than not, so I needed to get moving.


    Without Kanieta''s spell of silence around me, I returned to my old ways of traveling through the forest. Good old careful steps combined with controlled shields and tendrils.


    Though the distance I traveled was only a third of what I traveled while running with Kanieta from the¡­ hidden camp, it took me hours to make it the last bit.


    By the time I reached the edge of the forest, I could already tell by the rising fog and lightning darkness that there was only an hour or two until daybreak.


    Trying to rush, I moved along the tree line, searching for my trainees. I told them to go back to where we entered the forest, but with all of the running around through the night, I had lost track of where exactly I was in relation to it.


    Stopping, I squinted and looked to my right, thinking I saw movement. With the fog and moon shrouded by clouds drifting overhead, I couldn''t see that far, even with my better-than-human vision.


    Even in the best of conditions, I could only see a couple hundred yards with the light I was getting. These were not the best conditions. I could see about half that.


    After a few minutes of scanning the area off to my right, I turned back to the left and started prowling in that direction.


    I had no idea where I was on the forest''s edge, but I knew that if I kept the woods to my left, I would eventually hit the Rush.


    It was true if I went in either direction, but going left meant I was heading east. So hopefully, I should find my trainees soon.


    More time passed as I searched, and I was beginning to believe that I wouldn''t find them before dawn when I saw a flicker of motion off in the fog.


    Focusing on the area, I waited for a minute. My eyes quickly settled on a patch of grass slowly shifting. For a moment, I thought it might be a gust of wind, but the disturbance never disappeared.


    As the minutes passed, I saw it steadily move parallel to the forest''s edge, confirming my suspicions.


    Hiding behind a tree, I let the slow-moving disturbance in the grass move more than ten yards from me, then started keeping pace with it.


    Occasionally, the disturbance would wander closer to me and then farther out into the grass sea, making me wonder if I should follow after it. But every time I was about to move from my tree to follow, it would inevitably move back toward me.


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    Dozens of minutes passed, and not once in all that time did I see what was traveling through the grass poke its head above the tops of the blades.


    Which was telling.


    So was the lack of mental energy. I hadn''t felt a single pulse this whole time. And I wasn''t going to probe the being, not while I was still hiding and alone. I learned far too much over the past day to trust my safety to a misguided belief beastkin couldn''t feel mental energy.


    And my instincts were telling me that the probable beastkin was hunting.


    If they were hunting, there were only so many options. Given that it looked like they were occasionally losing the trail and having to search for it again, I was betting the trail was that of one of my unskilled trainees. A bet that might actually have my life as the stakes.


    Time passed, and the disturbance in the grass slowed, taking more time to move every step forward.


    As the progress of the beastkin slowed, I spent more time looking around the area, ensuring that I wasn''t being followed like I was following the beastkin. And searching the area in front of the beastkin for what had his attention.


    I had a slight advantage in that area, as the forest was slightly higher than the grass, but I saw no sign of the trainees. Neither did I see anything beastkin scouts. Not that my vision can be trusted with their illusions.


    Deciding to end this and move on, I crouched down and began creeping past the last few trees marking the forest''s border. I was planning on sneaking up on the probable beastkin before killing it.


    Before I could move past the last tree and make a silent dash for the grass, I felt a pulse message. It was a standard legion challenge and call for immediate response.


    There was a beat where nothing happened ¡ª and any legion member could have responded ¡ª before motion exploded around the disturbance.


    I saw multiple objects pop above the grass, then become fast-moving blurs as they tracked toward the disturbance. Within the last few feet, the projectiles dipped into the grass, and I heard the whipping slaps as the projectiles tore through the tall grass and disappeared.


    Meaty thunks and a yelp of pain followed the missile''s disappearance, and I could see a dark shadow make a furrow through the grass as it darted away.


    Before the shadow could make it more than a few feet, I heard the sounds of more fast-moving missiles tearing through the grass and intercepting the shadow.


    The shadow tumbled to a stop with a series of thumps. Then three heads and torsos appeared above the tops of the grass as they rushed forward.


    They quickly made it to the body, and their arms raised and lowered in sharp motions as they brought strips of metal that glinted in the moon''s light up and down. With every cycle of their arms, their blades flashed a little less.


    Nothing happened for a moment, then I saw what looked like dust rise up from where the figures crouched.


    The dust cloud grew thicker over the next few seconds, and I could have sworn I heard the rocks clinking. Then the figures stood and moved back the way they came.


    Detaching myself from the side of the tree I had glued myself to, I moved over to the grass and slipped into it, following in the footsteps of the beastkin.


    I kept an eye on my surroundings as I searched for any enemies, but if they didn''t come out when one of them was killed, I doubted they would pop up for me.


    Coming to where the beastkin was, I saw the ground was freshly turned over, forming what must be a new grave.


    Rather smart of the trainees. The beastkin would be able to smell a body much farther than a grave.


    Continuing to move forward, I passed the grave, and it was only a few steps after it that I felt the same pulse message as before.


    Instantly sending the replay, as I expected it, I continued moving forward without stopping.


    Within ten feet, I was intercepted by a legionary who motioned for me to follow without another word.


    I heard the soft rasps as grass brushed against our shields and the thuds of footsteps signaling the presence of more trainees off to each side.


    We traveled in silence for minutes, then Bellous, who I finally recognized and remembered was part of Joxin''s squad, motioned for us to squat down and wait.


    Settling down, I studied Bellous, who was a short, squat man with blocky features.


    Within a second of his signal, I felt a probe touch my mind. Reaching out with my own tendril, I connected to the energy and joined the mental link.


    "Instructor," greeted Joxin''s mental voice as soon as I mentally connected, before going into his report. "Ahooha''s squad returned to the Triad to report as you ordered. Traig skirted around the forest and found the ambush sight of the turma ten miles from here¡­ They counted what bodies there were, but many of them were destroyed beyond recognition¡­ He doesn''t believe any survived. Traig''s team is now resting a little ways off to the east. Kathren is keeping an eye on the river and forest edge farther to the north."


    I processed the information, then asked, "Are you all linked up?"


    He gave a feeling of confirmation, so I continued, "Send to everyone that the beastkin have constructed a bridge over the Rush and already have thousands on the western side of the river."


    I could feel his astonishment at my mental message, but also that he was relaying my words to everyone else. I threw a glance up and flinched at the lightening sky.


    Having more light was¡­ awesome. So long as that light didn''t give an even greater advantage to those hunting you. Like, say, something in the air.


    As the first rays of light broke the night into a gray dawn, I spotted specks moving high in the sky. Fuck.


    "More importantly," I sent, "the beastkin have constructed barges that have towers and ladders on them. Ladders that are tall enough to reach the bridges of the Triad. And they can create illusions that only rely on your eyes, and I am pretty sure they have ways of sensing projected mental energy." I thought about adding more of what I had learned, but it really didn''t matter. If this essential information didn''t get through, the rest wouldn''t matter.


    Joxin''s shock was so strong this time that he let out a quiet, disbelieving, "What? That''s not possible¡­"


    "Relay it," I ordered, snapping him out of his stooper.


    I knew he had sent the message, as I felt the shock and disbelief fill the mental network. All I did in response was project the absolute surety of my claims into the mental links as I continued to watch the sky.


    The longer I looked, the more my stomach dropped out of my chest, and I was looking nigher long nor hard. We''re not gonna make it, not all of us¡­ and they must know that someone''s out here by now. I thought to myself.


    Knowing what I had to do, I looked Joxin right in the eyes, "Who has the most mental energy and control?" I sent.


    There was a rapid series of messages between him and others before he returned with, "Me, Kathren, and¡­ Jim." I saw the little flinch as he sent ''Jim''s'' name but ignored it.


    "Ok," I replied, "this is what we''re going to do."

 Chapter 32

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    There was no fanfare for the elves'' appearance. And at first, we didn''t even know it was them, thinking it was all a dream.


    From one second to the next, there was a rush of air, and then the tunnels became quiet.


    It was a blissful silence. Something that hadn''t occurred in so long that it took us several seconds to understand what we were hearing. Or what we weren''t.


    We trickled out of the alcoves we were huddling in, trying to rest, and into the main tunnel.


    As we exited the chambers, we saw the backs of a line of dumfounded legionaries standing shoulder to shoulder, weapons still raised mid-strike. And beyond them, nothing.


    The tunnel, packed with dead bodies moments ago, was empty. There weren''t even the constant streams of partially congealed blood leading to the basins we built into the walls to collect the blood.


    We asked what happened, but those on duty would only say they were sucked away.


    Hesitantly, we walked forward. We thought we were in a dream. We feared that we would wake up the step before exiting our hell.


    With every step that we found nothing and got closer to the exit, our fragile hope grew.


    Until we exited into the light of the noonday sun and saw our crumbling fortress. But still, we saw no bodies.


    Shards and pieces of stone were scattered about in piles of rubble and half-standing walls. Broken and splintered spear and arrow shafts littered the ground like leaves in a forest.


    But there were no bodies. And the only blood was that which had dried itself onto the shafts of the weapons.


    **********


    Gasping in a ragged breath of air, I raced through the tall grass with my trainees to either side. Sweat beaded my forehead, and I could feel a cooling trickle running down the center of my back.


    In my experience, one of the most annoying things that can happen on a run is having the wind blowing into you. Makes it so much harder.


    Having wind blowing into you is nothing compared to running through a field of endless grass as tall as your shoulders while being chased by beastkin on the ground and air, though.


    "Duck!" Came a mental shout.


    Diving forward, my chest thumped into the ground, and I felt dozens of blades of grass give way beneath my weight.


    A gasp escaped my lips from the impact, but before it could make its way all the way out of my mouth, a whoosh and slicing sound passed above my head.


    Thrusting my arms into the grass-covered ground, I threw my body upward, scrambling to get my feet under me, as the top two feet of the grass fell onto my back.


    "Argh!" I grunted in annoyance, and it was not from the burning in my arms. This was far from the first time I had thrown myself to the ground and then jumped to my feet, so my arms were feeling the strain.


    As I pumped my burning legs to get me moving again, I took a moment to wipe off the pieces of grass sticking to my skin and trying to move down the collar of my leather armor. Stupid grass.


    Taking a hopping step, my head and shoulders cleared the tops of the grass, and I had a clear view of my surroundings as I whipped my head around, trying to take everything in.


    "Blood and ashes," I gasped, putting on another burst of speed.


    What had started out as an easy-going, careful stalk through the grasslands, as we wanted to try and remain unnoticed as long as possible, quickly turned into an all-out sprint.


    And it wasn''t like we were able to sneak for an hour or two before being spotted. No, we got noticed within thirty minutes of setting out from the forest.


    As good as some of us were at going unnoticed by anything on the ground, we were pretty obvious when a bird was flying overhead. And if the flying beastkin somehow missed us at first glance, all they had to do was follow the disturbance in the grass we left in our wake, which led right to us.


    At first, they left us alone.


    It was a blissful forty-three seconds. The only interaction the beastkin had with us was when one of the three creatures hovering overhead cast shadows across us as they slowly circled. Then one dived away, vanishing into the forest.


    We were already running at that point, and our fears were proven right as the bird beastkin returned with friends. Lots of friends.


    It was then that these blades of wind started being fired at us.


    We lost a trainee on each of the first two passes as we failed to spot the danger quickly enough. The ten of us still moving didn''t feel like sharing their fate, so we were constantly looking for the signs of wind blades around the beastkin.


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    Which was little more than a shimmer in the air hanging around a beastkin when they swooped down at us. I tried using my detector to pick up the signs of their attacks for a little while, but it was like trying to hear someone flipping you off. There''s nothing to detect until it hits you in the back of the head, and by then, you''re headless. Not an outcome I wanted.


    So it left us looking for the slight shimmer or seeing the blade start scything its path through the grass before it was too late.


    Which was weird. Because they were giving us plenty of time to react¡­


    Dozens circling above while playing games with us. And nothing but grass for as far as we can see. It''s over. They''re just trying to slow us down¡­


    "Circle up!" I shouted, "Flatten the grass."


    A moment after I spoke, I felt the acknowledgment in the mental link. The grass between us for a twenty-foot oval was smashed to the ground in a wave, like the concussive blast of an explosion.


    The flattened grass revealed all of us in the network. I was in the center of the formation, and my trainees formed a loose spearhead formation to my sides.


    "Lutious!" I ordered, "Get two others and start digging! We''re gonna need another bunker!"


    "Sir!" I heard him shout in reply, "Bellous! Kella! On me!."


    I watched him take a few strides into the center of the formation, where the lengthy blond-haired female and stocky man of our group joined him.


    They stood in a circle five feet round, and in their center, the grass and dirt in a two feet sphere were ripped from the ground and compressed into a mostly round ball no larger than my clenched fist.


    The rest of the scout trainees were forming a tight circle around the three workers, and I moved to join them while looking into the sky.


    My heart sank. The beastkin were already diving towards us, giving up on their little game, and I drew my blade, clenching it in my fist.


    While not all of them had the shimmering signs of wind blades forming around them, a good third of them did.


    "Sheilds!" I shouted and sent through the network. I felt the energy of all ten of us burst out from our bodies and gather into a single mass.


    I guided the energy into a shell that would cover us all, then solidified it. The ever-present wind blowing across the grasslands stopped for an instant as everything outside the shell was cut off.


    Then my mind shuddered under the seven impacts of wind blades that struck the shield I had formed.


    "Haaa!" I gasped, dropping to my knees. I had never felt something so strong impact a shield I was holding in place before, and it was only a single blade.


    As more fell, I felt jagged cracks spike along the shield as wind blades fell one after another. When the ninth blade struck, I lost control of the shell''s energy as it shattered and started to dissipate.


    Since I was the primary controller of the energy, I took the full force of the backlash of the mental working shattering, causing me to lose control of the network linking us, further adding to my pain.


    The world spun around me, and I found myself looking at my folded knees and a carpet of grass below them, numb hands hanging at my sides. My eyes focused on a strand of blood dripping from my head, linking me to the ground.


    I tried to move my left arm to the ground to leverage my body to a standing position, but somehow, I missed the ground and fell onto my side.


    Or my arm didn''t move. I wasn''t sure which one happened.


    Rolling onto my stomach, I climbed onto all fours, feeling a pang in my right hand for some reason. Ignoring the slight feeling, I lifted up my head to look around.


    Traig was standing with his back to me. Thirty feet from him, standing surrounded by grass, his back wings stretched out to the sides with pride, was a beastkin. He wore leather pants, but his upper body was bare of clothing and covered in intricate tattoos, though he did ware many necklaces, along with bracelets on his arms, on top of each other. His chest was covered in intricate tattoos.


    I could see a fuzzy figure one moment, then the next, he became a blurry, shifting form of blobby colors. There were also two more lines of blurriness to either side of the beastkin, but that could have been me seeing things for all I knew at the moment. Work properly, you damn eyes. And get up, body!


    I watched as Traig swung his arm, releasing a metal spike. As the spike left his hand, it rocketed forward, greatly increasing in speed.


    Shifting my vision to the clang, as I couldn''t follow the spike''s travel, I saw the knife bouncing back toward Traig, flipping uselessly through the air. Continuing my look to the source of the noise, I saw the blobby figure again and could have sworn a sneer was filling his face.


    With a slight flick of his wrist, the two blurs hanging in the air on either side of him disappeared.


    ¡°Gaa¡ª!"I heard the grunt of effort Traig let out, stop as suddenly as it started. And before I even had time to turn my eyes, I heard a wet thump.


    When I finally focused my eyes, I saw Traig''s body was vertically sliced in half.


    My head was throbbing, and my body didn''t listen to me and get up on its own, so I would have to fight this bastard on my hands and knees. Clicking my teeth together, I was preparing to scamper forward and bite his ankle off. Before I could manage more than a single pace forward, Lutious stepped in front of me.


    Two rocks were hovering at his sides, and as he stepped forward, they were flung toward the fancy beastkin. Ya got lucky, fur-brains. I thought while deciding which fancy beastkin to focus on.


    Before the rocks ever reached his skin, they shattered upon an unbreakable surface. I could hear Lutious let out a curse, but before he could act again, a furry mass came from the side, driving him to the ground.


    I flung myself forward across the ground on instinct and thrust out with my right hand, amazed to find it was still clutching my sword. The blade sunk deep into the creature''s side, and as my body hit the furry mass on top of Lutious, I pushed him onto his side.


    The beastkin was whimpering, but I didn''t pay attention as I leaned over Lutious, fumbling at the hilt of my sword. I gave it a few yanks, finally pulling it free as I fell onto my butt.


    My head hurt, and my vision wasn''t working all that great, but I was well enough to raise my sword and look around. I might not be on my feet, but sitting on your ass, sword in hand, was basically the same, right?


    Dozens of wolven beastkin were stalking out of the still-standing tall grass around me, spears and clubs clasped in their hands and lips pulled back, showing off their teeth.


    I slowly glanced over my shoulder at what I hoped would be a complete bunker we could defend, but the hole was bearly an arm''s length into the ground.


    And including me, only three and a half people were still on their feet. Wobbling while somehow remaining upright on my butt had to count for something.


    Raising my blade, I turned to face the beastkin with all the necklaces.


    The fancy beastkin looked me in the eye, his appearance back to being fuzzy rather than blobby, the sneer I knew I saw plain on his face before he flicked his wrist. I saw a flash of movement before I was knocked backward, head over ass.


    When I came to a stop, I was lying on the ground looking at the blue sky, gasping for air despite my sore chest. I tried to move, but something struck me in the head, and the world turned black.

 Chapter 33

    Story From The Elders¡ª


    Long ago, we were not what we are.


    We were mindless. Savage creatures driven by primal desires, we were everything the Olimpians call us now.


    All we did was consume and breed, trapped in our own minds.


    And if we were left to our own devices, if we were left to run rampant, we would have consumed the world and then ourselves.


    No matter how hard it might be for some, or how loudly they righteously shout and scream, we can never deny one fact. A fact that we must be grateful for because, without it, we would not exist.


    The Olimpians are the reason we exist.


    Our ancestors threw their bodies against their walls for generations, dying by the tens of thousands. And with every generation, we evolved.


    As we changed, we regained what our oldest ancestral memories tell us we once had, along with so much more. With our growth, our expansion, we must fight against those we left behind and those who thought of us as beasts.


    Neither of them understood we had a civilized society nor what we have become. The former through inability and the latter through ignorance. But one day, we will show them our strength and earn their respect.


    No matter how we change, we will never forget the history that defines us. No matter how dark and ugly that history is. Our debts.


    But it''s just that. Our history. A past that we have moved beyond and overcome.


    Remember, and have empathy for our ancestors, for The Lost Tribes to the west. And understand why the Olimpians treat us the way they do. They do not yet know what we are.


    **********


    Kanieta watched the elf turn and begin stalking through the nighttime forest. A slow smile spread across her lips as she lay across a tree''s branch, looking down at him.


    Perceptive and skilled as he was, he was no match for her shadow magic. Not many were. It was why her tribe was so feared despite being on the smaller side.


    As the elf vanished from her sight, she hoped he would make it back to the fort with the information, but the odds of that happening were decreasing by the second.


    Kanieta could feel flashes of magic all over the forest, and they were growing closer. The Crescent Moon faction had not missed their little intrusion, and they were searching for the culprits.


    They had to know it was another faction of the Kin, but their search for her would soon lead them to find the Olimpians, if they already hadn''t, which was unfortunate.


    Kanieta, rather like Green. She got to be herself around him. Though she might have gone too far¡­ But come on, I should get some slack. I never get the chance to let loose! Everyone around me is a fuddyduddy¡­ I Neve get to have fun¡­


    Putting Green''s problems from her mind, she stopped pouting, hopped to her feet, and leaped from her branch to the next, her tails tailing behind her.


    Foot landing squarely on the limb, she used her forward momentum to crouch down on her leading leg, then pushed off with it, adding height and propelling her to the next tree branch.


    Even with the occasional bunch of leaves or branch slapping against her body, there was no sound.


    The slight drain on her mana pool told her that her silence spell was active, but more than one mage had died due to trusting their spell was still in effect on the sole basis of their mana being drained.


    There are many ways to circumvent a spell, after all.


    So Kanieta made a habit of performing small tests that might be noticed by an enemy but were far less risky than assuming her spell was working and getting overconfident, letting her walk into a trap. It was one of the reasons traveling with Green was so easy. He was so clumsy that she never had to test her spell.


    Hours passed as she kept a relaxed pace, the night quickly coming to an end as the dark forest flashed by.


    When she reached the river dividing the forest, she paused. Her eyes scanned the banks for any watchers but gave up almost immediately. She would never find a single person in all that brush.


    Making up her mind to just go for it, she leapt off her tree and out into the open air.


    Wind whipping through her hair, she sailed over the water. Her leap took her twenty feet out from the bank as she dropped the thirty feet from the tree branch to the water''s surface.


    As the toes of her leading leg touched upon the waters of the river, it appeared as if the rippling darkness just under the water''s surface sucked towards her and collected under her foot. The result was as if the rest of the river water became brighter, as a blackness darker than any shadow solidified under Kanieta''s foot.


    Slowly, as if threads of moonlight were trying to keep her hanging in the air, her foot settled onto the water, a single ripple rolling out from the pad of her foot, marking her descent. Then she leaped forward, and the shadows under her foot vanished as if they were never there.


    When her leap ran its course, and she fell down to the river again, the darkness of the river pooled under her foot once more, offering her a platform to leap off of.


    Each bounding leap took her twenty feet forward, quickly taking her across the half-mile of this narrow section of the river. Landing on the banks of the northern side of the Northern Forest.


    Three leaping steps later, Kanieta was running across the broad road of the tree branches which made up the Northern Forest.


    She was hardly a hundred feet into the eastern side of the forest and had already spotted two scouts and a patrol working their way along the banks of the river. Such good workers.


    They were not looking for the Olimpians. Those in the fort had neither the need nor the means to send a force down the river and into the forest. And without Green, they wouldn''t even know there was something to look for out here.


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    No, they were looking for the Crescent Moon faction.


    Pausing for a moment, she reached over to a twig on a branch and snapped it off, letting it fall, before leaping to the next tree. Had to make sure my spell was working¡­


    "Ahh!" Screamed a warrior behind her, "Something just fell on me!"


    "It''s just a branch, you fur-brain," said a scathing female voice, followed by a smacking sound, "Now shut up! You''re making too much noise."


    Kanieta''s lips curled as she adjusted her spell, blocking out all sound ¡ª how can you check if they hear you if you can''t hear them? ¡ª as she turned and bounded away.


    As she traveled through the forest, she was gradually coming across more patrols and even some wards that would detect even her presence if she passed over them.


    It wouldn''t be a problem if she was found by one of these patrols. She belonged here, after all. A few words and anyone challenging her would back down.


    What would be a problem was if certain people found out that she wasn''t in her tent at the center of the main camp of the Red Tails faction.


    Warning the Olimpinas was a¡­ secret errand the Elders had given her. And errand that they would in no way acknowledge giving her if she was caught.


    The horizon was just starting to lighten, sending light across the blue sky and white clouds as she returned to the edge of the main encampment.


    Eyes skimming over those on guard duty as she circled the camp, she wrapped shadows around herself before moving and leaping down from a tree in front of the burly male bear. Kanieta was tall, but he was massive in every sense of the word.


    "Take me to Clan Leader Kanieta''s tent." Her voice was distorted, becoming deeper and monotone, giving no hint of who she was.


    The bear was startled at her appearance for a moment, then slowly processed her words and nodded his head in understanding. "Follow me, Shade." He rumbled in a respectful tone of voice.


    Following behind the man''s plodding steps, she traveled through the camp. Though slow, his gate was so long that he quickly traversed the distance from the edge of the base to its center as they wove through hundreds of tents on dirt paths beaten into the ground. The few on the paths in the early morning quickly moved out of their way, stepping to the side.


    Walking up to the inner portion of the camp, they approached the only fortification of the entire place, which was just a simple wooden palisade, or it appeared that way, at least. This inner section was filled with larger tents for the elders, clan leaders, and warband leaders of the Red Tail faction, and right in its center was her tent.


    The guards gave one look at the bear-kin, then at her, before simply waving them both in. She was only a few steps past the gates and the wards built into them before she heard a loud voice.


    Kanieta''s ears twitched as she focused on the words, ¡°¡ªcare what ritual or spell you say she is doing right now! You will take me to Clan Leader Kanieta now, or I will call into question her ability to rule in front of the assembly!" The threat was not a minor one, and she recognized the arrogant speaker, so she knew it wasn''t an idle threat either.


    "I know the way from her, Hurring. You may leave." Kanieta said in the same distorted voice, flicking her wrist in a dismissive gesture.


    The bear slowly turned, looking like a soft wind would blow him over, though that was the farthest thing from the truth, and bowed to her. "As you say, Shade."


    Once he rose from his bow, he started plodding away without looking back or giving the slightest indication that he knew who she was. I should make him a warband leader soon¡­ She thought to herself before turning and fast walking once she was sure no one was looking.


    She was passing the tent where the loud voice came from, but she could not just drop her shroud of shadows and walk in. That would destroy all semblance of the facade their two factions were playing at.


    Picking up her pace, she darted forward, quickly passing a series of tents before darting between them as the first rays of light touched upon the camp.


    As the light hit her shrouded figure, the mana required to hold together her spell sharply increased, and its effectiveness dropped. Her mana was burning away, but it didn''t matter. A few more steps, and she zipped to the side, entering the flaps of her tent.


    Before the flaps of her tent were finished falling shut behind her, she was dropping her shroud. Reaching to the side, she grabbed the intricately carved staff with a fox head and feathers on its top. It was the symbol of her position, and she was supposed to carry it around wherever she went. Doing that was tiresome, though, and whenever she could get away with it, she would drop it into someone else''s care or leave it behind.


    Sadly, this was not one of the times she could get away with it. Letting the staff lean against her chest, she reached over again and grabbed a clock to hang against her shoulders.


    Fingers wrapping around the staff, she spun on her heel and walked out of the tent. She held up her free hand, covering the light from the sun and sucking in a deep breath of morning air as she stretched.


    She spent a long moment reveling in the new dawn as if she really had just come out of her tent for the first time in the morning.


    Turning to her left, she plastered a smile onto her face. At the end of the line of tents was an old wolven man with a sour pinched face. His face twisted even more upon seeing her smile. Shit, my smile must be more than a bit mocking. Whoops, guess I couldn''t control myself. But at least I get to enjoy making him walk to me.


    "Ahh, Elder Jolten, such a pleasure to meet you again. What brings you to my tent at such an early hour?" Kanieta finally said when he had walked close enough for a normal conversation. As her words and appearance, the haggard-looking brown and white fox-kin standing behind the Elder had a momentary look of relief before a professional mask fell over her face making it blank. "And Nareta, why didn''t you have the Elder wait for me in comfort at the visitors'' tent?"


    There was an ever so slight rebuking tone in Kanieta''s voice at the last sentence, causing Jolten''s face to twist even more, which Kanieta thought was impossible at this point.


    "I''m sorry, chieftain," Nareta said with a bow to Kanieta, "But he refused to wait a moment longer and stormed out here on his own."


    "I see," said Kanieta, "Well, Elder Joltan? You must have something important to discuss with me if you rushed to our camp in the dead of night and demanded to see me."


    There was a flash of hatred deep in his eyes before his sour expression fell away and was replaced by a sickly sweet smile. "As a matter of fact, I do, Chieftan Kanieta." He rasped out while walking toward Kaneita. "As you may not know, the Olimpians broke into our camp last night."


    "You must not have very good security if that is the case," Kanieta said, throwing out a jab as he took a moment to breathe.


    The flames of anger surged in his eyes for a moment before subsiding, ¡°Ahh¡­ Yes. And that is the reason I am here. We request that you come personally to inspect and strengthen our defenses. We wouldn''t want our plan to be ruined by the Olimpians, after all."


    The Elder, who missed his calling as a snake, had a smug expression on his face as if he had actually achieved something. It was an expression that Kanieta wanted to smack off with the back of her hand, along with his head from his body, if that was an option.


    "No, we wouldn''t want that." She said, her lips turning down slightly at the corners. "I will pack my things and travel there as soon as possible¡­ To fix the mistakes, you no doubt made to let an Olimpian in."


    His eyes squinted in anger at her words before he spun around and left without so much as a goodbye. So rude.


    Nareta hustled up next to her and bowed low, speaking in a groveling pleading tone, "Chieftan, I am so¡ª


    "Enough of that," Kanieta said, groaning in her throat as she kept her face blank in case the Elder turned around, "He can''t hear us anymore."


    "Ohh, good. That was getting tiring," Nareta''s voice completely changed, taking on an upbeat and slightly mocking tone despite her still being bent over at the waist. You never knew who was looking after all, "Did you do what you sent out to do?"


    Even here, and with a silence spell, she would not directly talk about Knaieta''s infiltration.


    ¡°¡­Yes, but they noticed us getting out. Not sure if the information will make it back."


    "That''s unfortunate," Nareta said, finally coming up from her bow, but her head was still looking down. That did not prevent her from somehow managing to lock eyes with Kanieta and make a face mocking the Elder that almost made her crack up in laughter.


    Kanieta could only grunt in agreement before saying, "We can''t do anymore in this battle. Pull back any Shades on disrupting the crescent Moon''s planes. We''ll have to sit back and watch this one play out."


    "Kay, cuz," Nareta said, lifting her head, spinning about, and walking away. But not before she smacked Kanieta''s cheek with the tip of one of her two gray tails.

 Chapter 34

    Story From The Elders¡ª


    Long ago, the tribes were divided by our totems. A broken people that raided each other as much as we raided the Olimpians.


    Living in the valleys of the Broken Peaks could never be called easy. Snow comes down in sheets in the winter, trapping us in our homes. And in the summer, we would be too busy fighting with our neighbors to stock up for the winter.


    Then chieftain Grantly put aside her pride. A chieftain of a wolf tribe looked past the squalor of her little village and looked for something better. Something different.


    She saw the wealth of food growing in the fields under the rule of the Olimpians, and instead of stealing only their harvest as she slaughtered them, she captured the farmers along with the seed.


    She made her villagers watch the Olimpian farmers as they were forced to work.


    The Kin watched, and we learned. When the ground was not what the plants needed to grow, mages altered the land. When there were rocks in the way, they were moved. If water was needed, it rained.


    As the harvests grew, Grantly reached out to the neighboring tribes. She taught those who were willing to cooperate how to farm. How to be more. And for those who wanted to keep to the savage ways, she gathered those who would cooperate and drove the savage from her lands.


    Thus were the origins of the first faction and our separation from the lost. And yet, we can never forget that this story could only exist thanks to the Olimpians.


    **********


    Kanieta walked in the center of a line of warriors. To her right and a step back was Nareta, who was holding her head high, looking straight ahead, acting like she didn''t have a care in the world. To Kanieta''s left was Hurring, whose body was tight with tension and head constantly swiveling, looking for danger.


    He was not looking at the forest for that danger, which would be expected, but at the warriors from the Crescent Moon Faction around them. Most of the warriors of the other faction weren''t even making a pretense. Their hands were clenched tightly around their spears and clubs, while their heads were constantly turned towards Kanieta.


    It was to the point that she was considering asking them how they stopped themselves from bumping into each other. Or if they were so bewitched by her beauty that they feared she would disappear if they looked away.


    She was having trouble deciding which she should ask. Each one had its own positives and negatives.


    Not that it mattered, she was in her Clan Leader guise. ''Action like that would bring shame to her clan and faction while undermining her authority in the eyes of the other chieftains.'' Or so she had been told by Elder Lurta so many times that her whiplike voice echoed in her head even now.


    Elder Lurta wasn''t wrong. Which was the main reason that Kanieta followed her teachings. That old bat will be wrong sooner or later¡­ Kanieta thought to herself as she got lost imagining all the ways she would hold the Elder''s mistake over her head.


    Happy thoughts continued to track through Kanieta''s mind as she took one step after another, ignoring the forest on this pleasant evening stroll. The stiff back of the Elder Jolten only added to the walk and made her mouth twitch in amusement.


    The camps had to be close enough to support each other on the off chance the Olimpians attacked, but it shouldn''t have taken most of a day to reach the bridge over the river. It couldn''t be helped, though. Kanieta had so many interruptions and meetings. Once those were done, no one could find Hurring and tell him he was escorting her.


    Before anyone knew it, most of the day had passed.


    Kanieta blinked and found they were at the edge of a large cleared portion of the forest.


    All across the miles-wide clearing were the remnants of campfires. And it seemed as if there was a stump poking three feet up from the ground every dozen feet with the same smooth, nearly reflective surface. Everywhere in between the stumps, there were footprints. Lots and lots of them.


    The ground was so torn up that every step should kick up a cloud of dust. That was if the general damp air and morning fog coming off the river weren''t a thing.


    Combine those two facts, and you get a field with a layer of mud across it. A slippery field that Kanieta had no intention of making a fool of herself crossing while getting muddy.


    At the far end of the clearing were thousands of Kin. They were gathered around the eastern side of the bridge Kanieta and Green had seen the night before. They were busy. Must have been running over the bridge all night and day to get everyone over this fast. And¡­ yep, theirs the rest of the bastards. Kanieta''s eyes lingered on the mass of bodies across the river for a moment, then went to what was her real problem.


    Looking at the mud-churned ground with annoyance, Kanieta flashed a hand sign at her cousin and then nodded her head to the clearing.


    Kanieta caught the impish smile that appeared on Nareta''s face before it vanished and knew she was in for a show. So she sat back and watched in curiosity as Nareta stepped past her, pulling back the long loose sleeves of her light green and white dress. Her dress was a traditional outfit of their tribe and had multiple layers of tight clothing across the chest and waist before falling to a loose skirt. It was quite the contrast compared to Kanieta''s leather armor and cloak.


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    When Nareta was two steps in front of Kanieta, she flicked her wrists, and two blue fires burst to life, hovering six inches from the ground and nearly on top of two of the warrior''s feet.


    "Ahh!"


    "Damn fox!"


    Shouted the two warriors at the same time as they jumped back from the intense heat of the ethereal fire. One even lost his footing in the mud and fell onto his backside.


    "Apologies," Nareta said with a bow of her head, "I was just making a path for my Chieftain."


    Kanieta fought to keep her lips from curling up at the edges as she continued walking, ignoring the glare Jolten shot at her. And she held her nose in the air as the two on the ground flashed their teeth at her.


    That could easily be taken as a challenge, probably should be, and all challenges were dealt with in blood. But opening the door to allowing the Crescent Moon to question her authority was something that she must avoid.


    Nareta kept the fire at the same distance from her as they walked, and even though it was only hanging over any patch of ground for fractions of a second, the ground Kanieta was walking over was baked as if it had spent the whole summer being cooked in its heat.


    While Kanieta and her people walked over the field on solid ground, none of the warriors so much as put a foot down on the baked ground. They are so arrogant and proud that they would rather slip and fall rather than ask for help¡­ Fucking wolves.


    Their pace slowed significantly as the guards and Elder couldn''t keep up the pace.


    The struggle became more comedic as time passed, and eventually, a figure ran out to their group from the gathered mass at the bridge. It was only after we had passed over a quarter of the clearing.


    As the figure slid to a stop, Kanieta could tell he was a mage by the collection of focuses around his body. Without anyone saying a word, she could feel mana surge from the new arrival and move through a focus, casting a spell that pulled the water out of the ground, making a solid path for their band to walk on.


    A frown settling onto her face, Nareta stopped her spell and fell back to her place as the group quickly traveled the rest of the way.


    Some of the wolves even threw looks of superiority as their mage worked the ground, making it solid. All she could do was shake her head and think, bloody wolves.


    When they approached the mass of Kin, they parted, bowing to the Elder and murmuring words of respect.


    We walked over the three-fourths mile-wide bridge with him at our head. Kanieta let her mana senses seep out of her as she walked to inspect the bridge. It was far better than looking at the pompous ass walking with his chest out at their head.


    Before, when she saw the bridge at a distance with Green, all she could see was the massing of mana, not the spellwork intertwining it all. Mana leaked into her eyes, and they roved over the different spells holding this construction together. She even reached out with a strand of mana to pluck at a section of the spellwork that looked¡­ off.


    "Wohh!"


    "Ahh!"


    "What the¡ª


    "By the Frozen Peaks!"


    Dozens of other voices rang out, shouting similar phrases of panic and fear.


    Pulling her energy into her body again, Kanieta looked around with a look of bewilderment on her face as the bridge beneath their feet rocked and shook.


    At the end of the bridges, Kanieta saw streams of mana burst out from the tops of two towers positioned on either side of the bridge, then seep into the bridge, reinforcing it. Within seconds of the spells entering the bridge, the shaking that would have resulted in its collapse ended.


    "Not the best workmanship," Kanieta said in the shocked silence that enveloped the area. She did not say them loudly, but with the only noise coming from the river flowing beneath them, everyone within a couple dozen feet could hear.


    Elder Jolten whirled around, his face white with fear, and snapped, "If some people didn''t interfere with the spellwork, this situation would not happen."


    Giving him a shocked look of surprise, she held one hand to her chest, "I would never put people in danger for curiosity! And if I ever did, it would be because some people can''t take the most basic precautions of securing their spellwork for interference and probing." Her voice was laced with an affronted incredulity at being accused before shifting to a mocking thoughtful, "I mean, who could even dream that someone might take those precautions on a¡­ military structure?"


    The Elder''s face went through a series of rapid emotions at her not-so-subtle accusation, finally settling on arrogant scorn. This should be good, Kanieta thought to herself.


    "Why would we bother doing such a thing? It''s a waste of effort! The Olimpians lack the imagination to think we could build this, let alone that we already have. And how could their feeble powers interfere with ours? The very world adds to our strength!" By the end, his arms were raised in the air, and those of his tribe were shouting, egging him on.


    Kanieta shook her head and started walking forward again. She could not believe the arrogance the Elder was displaying.


    It was true. The Kin knew far more about the Olimpians than the Olimpains knew about them. It was one of the advantages of having a hidden society for more than the last half a millennia. Even if you don''t want to, you learn quite a bit about those you''re hiding from.


    On the other hand, if you are always busy hiding from them, you will never see their best. The Kin knew of the knights and heard of the lords and their families ruling the cities, but they had never really seen them in action. They had never seen what happens when Olimpia really goes to war. Because the last time they really fought, our ancestors threw themselves at them in a mindless fury¡­


    Kanieta was almost past the Elder before he turned, from basking in the glow of his followers to ''leading'' her to the fort holding the bridge''s western side.


    As she walked past the gate between the towers, she entered a courtyard and froze.


    The sun was setting and was already casting the courtyard in shadows. Taking up one wall of the fort were dozens of cages filled with Olimpains.


    ¡°Ahh¡­" Said Elder Jolten, slipping in next to Kanieta, "I see you noticed our¡­ resources. They will greatly add to our power in the coming battles."


    Kanieta''s eyes caught on a prone figure covered in blood lying in the closest cage, then her eyes swept over the spellwork still being laid out over the square. Her stomach dropped to her feet, and she said half in horror and half disbelief, "You can''t be planning to harvest their energy¡­ That spell is forbidden!"


    "Not during wartime." He said with a twisted smile filling up his face.


    "Only because we have never been at war, and the Conclave has never ruled on it!" Kanieta shouted at the old man in incredulity.


    "That is your opinion, Chieftain." Said the Elder in a snide voice, his smile shifting to become smug as he turned to walk away, leaving her in the courtyard.

 Chapter 35

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    As we walked out the broken outer gates of the Gauntlet, we were confronted by ash. Fields of unending ash, or so it seemed to us.


    Positioned around the fort''s walls at equal intervals were mounts of ash nearly as tall as the walls of the fort and hundreds of fee1t long.


    We had moved a few dozen yards outside the gates, swords and shields hanging limply at our sides as we could not drop them, taking in the spectacle. There was nothing we wanted more than to move further away from the walls escaping their clawing shadows ¡ª to distance ourselves from the nightmare ¡ª but none of us could take another step.


    The Gauntlet, no matter how much we hated it. How many hours and days we dreamt of escaping its chilling touch, we could not leave it. So long as we were close to its walls, we were sheltered. We could survive.


    As we watched, tall figures appeared from around the piles of ash, and they sent it spreading over a portion of the ground before churning the soil to mix the ash into it.


    Eventually, Areekail, High King of the Great Woods, rode up to us on her majestic white mount. His presence washed over us, filling us with awe and respect.


    Then he pointed. That was all.


    To the side of the gate was a stone obelisk on a small rise. Carved into the face of the pillar''s surface were the words, ''Here lies of defenders of the Gauntlet. Those who held back the surge sheltered the innocent from the ones lost to instinct.''


    In rings around the pillar, there was layer after layer of pearly white headstones.


    Gathering around the pillar, we wept bitter tears. That we were alive.


    When we were done, able to view the world in more than an indifferent haze, Areekail approached us. Asking us to follow.


    Picking up our swords and shields, we marched.


    **********


    Eyes popping open, I reached for my sword and scrambled to get to my feet. I needed to defend myself.


    "Argg!" I groaned, closing my eyes and rolling to my side.


    "Instructor," whispered a soft voice, "Stay still. You have a bad head wound¡­ And we don''t want to draw attention."


    I couldn''t place the voice, but it sounded familiar and friendly. Using all of my will, I changed my moans of pain to whimpers.


    My arms were curled over my chest to shelter and soothe the deep throbbing pain. It was doing nothing and might have actually been causing more pain as my chest stretched and constricted, but it made my mind feel better.


    Besides, that pain wasn''t what I was groaning at. I was long used to having a bruised and beaten body.


    The whimpers solely belonged to my headache that was making the world spin. And holding back the bile bubbling at the back of my throat. Oh, and opening my eyes caused spikes of blinding, burning light to be driven through them into my skull.


    I lay on the ground, and the only thing I could feel past the agony in my head was a gentle hand on my back, sending out mental waves of relaxation and comfort. For long minutes, I adjusted to the reality I awoke to, trying to accept the pain and work past it.


    Eventually, I managed to push past the pain. It was still there, as strong as ever, but its sharpness had faded and wasn''t as all-consuming as when I first opened my eyes.


    With a breath, I fell into my mind. I sunk deeper and deeper, and ironically, the farther I went, the duller the pain became until my mental self stood before my core of mental energy.


    Reaching out, I grabbed my mental energy, only for it to slip through my mental fingers as spikes of pain broke my focus and pulled me back to the forefront of my mind and all its aches.


    In the next few attempts, I grabbed a strand of energy but couldn''t force it to do anything. But I kept trying.


    Trying, and kept being smashed in the face with the pain reborn with all its jagged edges as the momentary relief of retreating into my mind shattered over and over.


    With every failed attempt, my haggard mind became duller, filled with a fog I could not push away. I was at the point where controlling my mental energy was like having one good eye that was blurry and a numb body. And then having to walk through a packed room without spilling a drop of water in the nearly filled cup with those handicaps. This isn''t an empty room, either. It''s a room filled with obstacles that, if you step on any of them, you die.


    Or become crippled¡­ It could happen! Pretty unlikely, though.


    But most likely, you would get a mild headache added to the one you already have. Which was a big deal when you already have the agony of brain damage.


    With every attempt, I fumbled with my energy a little more until I pulled the tiniest strands of mental energy out of my core and into my mind.


    The mental energy washed through my mind like a cool wave flowing over a burning body.


    With the newfound clarity, I pulled all of the energy from the pool in my head, draining it dry. Flexing my will, I pulsed the mental energy now seeping through my mind, pushing it to the edges as evenly as I could manage at the moment.


    Mental energy suffusing my mind, I clenched it. Everyone else had other ways to describe the action, but the result was the same. Mental energy was compressed into my body.


    When it involved the telekinetic school of mental disciplines, few could match me in pure force control. Not that it mattered how good I was on the first level, it was only at the second level that real power was found in the discipline.


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    At the second level, you spread your mental energy through all or part of your body. It has to reach a certain level of density before anything happens, but once it does ¡ª even to the smallest degree ¡ª the results are superhuman. The only upper limit I have ever heard about is how much your willpower can hold at one time, though if one loses control, it could lead to serious injury.


    I have read some studies that suggested that the better one understood the body and how it functioned, the better their efficiency and results would be. But with every aspect of mental energy, intent and raw power mattered most.


    I couldn''t spread enough energy threw my body to count as a full body reinforcement. Shit, I don''t even have enough energy to spread it through my body and say I was continually touching every corner. I could, however ¡ª if just barely ¡ª enhance a single part of my body, which does more harm than good more often than not.


    Enhance your leg and kick out? You get a super kick capable of shattering the trunk of a tree.


    You would also get a ripped-off leg at the hip, a broken back, and/or internal organ damage. So, worse than useless, with one exception.


    When you enhance your mind, you can think faster, react faster, and, most importantly, control your physical sensations. Aka, pain. And the head was the center of the body. If you control it, you control the body.


    While enhancing my mind, I couldn''t do any other castings, so it had very little usefulness up until this point. The only reason I was confident in doing it at all was that I wanted to prove to¡­ certain people that I could, so I spent a few months practicing to show off.


    With my mental energy enhancing my mind, I was not surprised to feel the damage in there. Whatever had knocked me out was not gentle, and there were the multiple severe backlashes recently. They could not have done me much of a favor.


    I set about numbing the damaged portions in my mind until my sense of pain was at the point I could hardly feel a thing.


    Now that I could focus better, I sent my energy to the damaged areas of my brain so my mental energy could take on the load of those sections, clearing up most of the fog, clouding my mind, and letting me function normally.


    How I did it, I couldn''t say. But the intent with a working was the most important thing about it. I wanted it to work, so it did.


    Opening my eyes, I felt them contract and send out signals of pain, but it did not matter. The signs never reached their destinations.


    It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the light, and when they finally did, I found that I was looking at a stone floor with a leg at the edge of my vision.


    Following the body part, I found that it led to¡­ I could not remember her name. And I wasn''t sure if that was because I never knew it or if my concussion was worse than I thought. I knew, however, that she was part of my trainees.


    ¡°Whe¡ª" My throat was so dry that was all I could get out until I licked my lips and worked it getting some moisture back into my mouth.


    The woman turned to glance down at me with concern when I gurgled, only for her eyes to widen and lean down when she saw my eyes were open and focused on her.


    She leaned down, and I rasped out, "Where are we?" I rasped out.


    I saw her eyes look over me in concern, as she didn''t say a word. Grunting, I tried to roll over, but the woman''s arm snapped out with surprising speed, clamping onto my shoulder and locking me in place as she furtively looked around.


    "Easy, there, Instructor," She said once she was done, "I was just making sure no beastkin were watching. I believe we are in the fort you were shown. Can''t think of anywhere else we are¡­" She finished trailing off in uncertainty.


    My eyebrows shot up in surprise. I don''t know why, but that was the last place I expected us to be.


    "Why?" I asked, not really expecting an answer.


    "We think it has to do with their powers." The trainee said, surprising me. "A scout in here overheard them talking about it making them stronger and by using a forbidden spell."


    I let that sink in for a moment before asking, "We?"


    "Oh, yeah, dozens of us here are trapped in cages. Nearly a hundred all combined. Most of us are scouts, but I think I saw some cavalry in the farther cages, though we can''t ask each other because they don''t let us talk. They will even stop us from using our hand signs if they see." She said.


    The whole time she talked, I was moving and testing out my body in small ways. When she was done, I pushed myself up in one motion, sitting with my legs crossed.


    I faced the attractive woman, who had reached out to me before stopping halfway. There was a look of shock on her face, then my eyes flicked past her. Behind the woman were steel bars, with the stone ground stretching for ten feet before I saw another cage with slumped-over figures in it. Behind that cage was a stone wall with lit braziers hanging on it. "How are you¡­"


    "I''m enhancing my mind and suppressing the pain." I replied, ¡°¡­I''m sorry, I can''t remember your name."


    She nodded in understanding, saying, "Ahh, I see. And don''t worry, Instructor, I''m not insulted. You have quite the head wound. It''s understandable. I''m Sathera. Sathera Flenk."


    I was surprised that she had a last name. Ahhh, she must be a noble¡­ guess that they all weren''t killed.


    Shuffling around, I moved to sit at her side while taking a good look at my surroundings.


    Besides the cage I was in, I could see them extend in a line. I lost count after the third set of cages ¡ª including mine ¡ª but there weren''t that many more after. Probably one, but hopefully two.


    As far as I could tell, ten or more captives were in each cage. They were positioned in a rectangle two deep, so I was having trouble looking in all of them, but I was pretty sure there were eight. If there was, it was kawrashit, and they should capture some more people to justify building another two. Inconsiderate bastards.


    Studying the walls more, I realized what I took for braziers on the bare walls were actually lanterns. It was a reasonable mistake, considering they glowed a steady red-orange light, a light that was still stabbing into my mind with their brightness. I didn''t feel the pain, but I expected to and instinctually shied away from looking at them. They weren''t that many of the things, but they gave out a surprising amount of light.


    Besides that, there were only a few pairs of guards standing around the square or walking the walls. The center of the square was taken up by a massive stone plate a foot thick that looked to have intricate carvings on top. The thing had to be at least sixty feet in diameter.


    For some reason, it made his hackles rise to look at it.


    Moving to those in the cage with him, he looked at one familiar face after another, as they all belonged to scouts he had known for months. Most of them were sleeping, lying flat or curled into balls, but one was looking at him. As his eyes settled on her, she smiled at him.


    A shiver ran up my spine as she spoke, "Well, would you look at this. Sleepy Head finally woke up. I was starting to hope that you never would. It would be one bright spot to this mess." Celeste''s words were filled with a bloodthirsty disappointment.


    ¡°Fuck¡­" I hissed as my body went stiff, my eyes darting around the cage for anything I could use as a weapon.


    Hearing my words and feeling my tension, Sathera leaned close and whispered, "Instructor? What''s wrong?"


    "She wants to kill me. Or at least see me in pain." I said, nodding to Celeste before shuffling back to ensure nothing could get between me and the bars. "How long have we been here? And why are we still trapped in this cage?" I asked.


    "Ahh," Sathera said, understanding entering her eyes, her eyes flicking between Celeste and me before she hesitantly said, ¡°¡­almost a day, I would guess. We were carried here after the fight. And wh¡ª


    "Grab the bars and pull on them, Knife-Ear-That-Resembles-A-Leaf!" Celeste shouted goading me. I squinted at her in suspicion as Sathera gasped in shock at what she called me.


    Eh, might as well, I thought, reaching one hand out for the bars. What''s the worst that can happen? And it will shut that bi¡ª


    "Instructor! Wai¡ª" I heard and saw Sathera reach for me out of the corner of my eye, but it was too late.


    My middle finger touched the bar, and the mental energy inside of my body exploded in movement as I passed out.

 Chapter 36

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    I hate the elves. I understand them and can admit now that what they have done was necessary, but the hate still burns inside me.


    Now It is all too obvious. My memory never lies.


    We, the remnants of the decimated 1st Legion, who were as mentally broken ¡ª if not more so ¡ª than the legion itself, marched off for another battle. We numbered little more than a full cohort but with a mess of pieces.


    The only thing we should have done was slump to the dirt at the base of the monument for our¡­ "Great victory."


    I was not there from the first clash to the last in the battle of the Gauntlet. There were a few that were, though. And that was enough fighting for the rest of my life.


    Those who were there for it all should have never wanted to pick up a sword again. And yet we all picked up our weapons and marched with the elves.


    That was all we did. We did not look and grab supplies. There was no message to Olimpia to tell them we were alive and marching with the elves.


    After one day of grief, we were ready to throw our lives into a harsher battle. And now, as I look back, I know it was not our choice.


    And yet my hate can never burst into flames because I understand and pity the elves for the choices they were forced to make.


    For what they did to themselves.


    **********


    My mind descended into blinding pain. I could not tell if my eyes were open, but I didn''t see the blackness of my eyelids, only white flashes.


    I existed in that state for what felt like years, years where I could do nothing but embrace the pain.


    Then the pain lessened, or I adapted to it, and I was able to focus on the internal energy raging inside. The mental energy was surging back and forth across my body, causing muscle spasms and jabs of pain.


    Even as I watched the energy, it was calming down. I reached out with my mind, bracing myself to wrangle it back under control.


    As soon as I touched the mental energy, it stilled and seemed¡­ eager. Like it was waiting for a command. I hardly even had to exert my will upon it before I was able to pull it back to my head from where it scattered all over my body, which was lucky because my will was not at its strongest at the moment.


    Within a moment, I pulled all the energy back into my mind and used the energy to enhance it once more.


    When the numb calmness enveloped my mind, my eyes popped open, and I could hear my surroundings again.


    "Fucking bitch," I muttered to the stifled laughing coming from the far end of the cage.


    "Are you okay, Instructor?" Asked Sathera, leaning over me, eyes brown eyes filled with concern.


    "Yeah, I''m good now. Not sure what happened¡­" I said, eyeing the cage in suspicion.


    "It''s the cage," Celeste said, not quite getting her laughter under control as it filled her voice, "whenever one of us touches the bars or reaches past them with a psy strand, it will disrupt their energy. It''s like when your limb falls asleep and becomes all tingly when the blood rushes back. Yeah, the rest of us feel like that on our whole body, combined with a punch to the gut. Knock us down for a moment but not that big of a deal. But with your head wound, well, it''s a little worse."


    "Why are you telling me this?" I asked her suspiciously, scooting a little farther from the bars. I knew her comment was a trap! She would never help me. But how could I know poking something could do me so wrong¡­


    "We''re in cages. And I overheard a pompous prick bragging about us increasing their power by using a ''forbidden spell.'' Whatever crows-begotten shit that means, I''m thinking it means us dying, so killing you won''t mean much if I die right afterward. It would defeat the point of waiting all this time. And that girl had been hovering over you while you slept, didn''t have the chance to do anything." Celeste said, then looked up at me with and cunning smile. "Besides, you seem to have a habit of surviving when you shouldn''t. Sticking around you seems like a good way to complete all my goals." I gave her as blank of a look as I could manage while I thought, well, you can never say the bitch isn''t honest.


    She smiled at me; I would have called her cute if I didn''t know her. Her figure was slim, but even with the armor on, you could see the hints of her figure. Her brunette hair was short and in a bob cut. But her eyes were cold. And in their depts, I could see a malicious hatred for me.


    "Well, thanks for the honesty¡­ I guess." I said.


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    "You welcome," She replied and tilted her head as if she was giving me the greatest of gifts.


    ¡°¡­Okay. So, we have to come up with a plan to get out of here¡­ Or do you already have one? Do we have any Knights in here with us? Or the other cages?" I asked, eyeing everyone to ensure I didn''t miss anyone on my quick pass over the occupants of the cage.


    "No," said Sathera, "Every time we talk or try anything, they come over and knock us all out. They can make the disruption of the bars flood the entire cage¡­"


    "Makes me wonder why they haven''t shown up," Celeste said, flashing a malevolent smile at me before looking around. A shiver ran down my spine at the expectant look on her face.


    I followed her example and looked around. And found no one coming at us in the night. I looked back at her and found she was frowning in disappointment. I gave her a mocking smile on impulse, then froze.


    The beastkin guards weren''t that far away. And if they came over whenever someone talked, then they could hear us where they¡¯re at¡­And we have been talking for a while¡­


    "You there, Kanieta?" I asked the air, getting strange looks from both of the women.


    Nothing happened for a few long seconds, and my ears started to turn red from embarrassment. I saw Celeste open her mouth to no doubt mock me when a shadow detached itself from the wall and walked in between the two cages.


    "You know, you lot talking this whole time isn''t making this easy on me." Said the shadow with no tone.


    I quickly looked at the two women and noticed a few of the others were stirring awake or openly watching. All of them were looking at the shadow in astonishment.


    "Oh, I''m so sorry!" I said, in fake dismay, "How could I think of planning an escape and inconvenience you? Of all people. I am so ashamed after our special night."


    "You should be," said the shadow. "Now, would you like to know an interesting, relevant fact? Doesn''t matter, I''m going to tell you. A few hundred years ago, the wolf clan was at war with the bear clan. The bear clan was winning, so the wolves were getting desperate. They needed a way to increase their power. And then, one of the mages had a thought, if we can refill the Olimpians'' psy pools, why can''t they refill ours."


    My eyes narrowed at the shadow in annoyance as she, cause there was no way anyone else would intentionally put emotion into their voice for that one word. Think you''re so funny, huh¡­


    "With that one line of thought," Kanieta continued, "They began experimenting. Warbands scoured your lands, capturing everyone they found. Entire villages were taken and marched back to our homes. After thousands of experiments and several partial successes, they finally discovered more than they wanted. Through a complex spell," she waved her hand at the courtyard, indicating the many lines of writing on the large stone plate. "They found a way to suck your psy and the outer layer of your soul from your body. The process is long, agonizing, and designed for you to fight back. Your willpower allows the spell to refine and reshape your psy, allowing for better transfer efficiency and storage of our mana. Once you are wrung dry, the outer layer of your soul is pulled out, wrapped around the energy, mixed with mana, and compressed. The soul gem that is created can collect the ambient energy or be injected, holding the energy indefinitely. Gather enough soul gems, and even the weakest of mages can cast any spell."


    "Ancestor, save us," I murmured in horror. And I knew that I was not alone in my thoughts. The air inside the cage had shifted, and waves of disgust and anger were palpable without me even trying to feel them. Most of those inside the cage had woken up during the speech, and they all looked at the shadowy figure like they wanted to jump at it and attack it now. We were all legion, after all. It was our job to protect.


    And she had just told us of one of the legion''s greatest failures. One we didn''t even know of. And our deaths would aid their attempts to destroy our people. Anger is pretty reasonable.


    ¡°Ahh¡­ there it is. And that is the reason the spell is forbidden."


    "What?" I asked in confusion.


    "Your reaction. The need to lash out at me despite me being the messenger. A messenger that is helping you. The power your people have is far more ingrained into your minds than you realize. Individuals among you might accept us using the spell. As a people, you will commit to a genocidal war to stop it. That spell will lead to our mutual destruction if used. And the fact Jolten thinks he can get away with using it is madness¡­" She trailed off her head, looking to the side slightly before snapping around. "The Elder is forcing my hand." She said, sneering at the word ''Elder,'' "These cages have the weakness of only being able to contain so much psy before braking, and while you might not have enough to reach it normally, I have taken the liberty of lowering the limit considerably. Collectively, you should be able to break it now. I suggest doing it at noon and going over the bridge, but I could care less. Though, do you hear that noise?" The oppressive silence that I didn''t even notice was lifted for a moment, and a roar of standing next to rapids filled the air. And not a small one. "That''s the warband preparing to march. Your time is running out. Whatever you do, don''t get caught."


    For the first time, the shadow turned and seemed to fully face me, "I guess that the information won''t reach the Triad in time?"


    I gave her a cocky smile, saying with a shrug, "It might have; I was just a distraction."


    "Oh," was all she said before vanishing, only for her voice to appear from nowhere, "that''s good to know. I''ll leave the spell up for a bit longer, enough for you all to talk."


    **********


    Kathren kept her eyes clamped shut. She hated this plan, but it was better than Instructor Green''s plan.


    The fact she came up with it and volunteered for it did not change her hatred.


    Slowly, she sucked in a breath of air through the hollowed-out arrow shaft. Breathing too fast would make noise and get her caught if anyone was around.


    Someone was around earlier, but that was hours ago, probably. They had to be gone now. "How long have we been here? It has to be nearly time, right?" She asked.


    "I can still see light," Joxin sent back. "probably half an hour."


    Kathren slowly breathed in through the tube and kept her eyes shut from the grit, always trying to get in.


    "Now," Joxin finally sent after what felt like hours later.


    Shifting the dirt and body above her, Kathren moved upward until she broke out on the surface.


    Night had fully settled, and she clawed her way out of the dirt and tried to smack off the grime coating her.


    From the hole, Joxin and Jim followed. None of them were smiling, and neither was she at finally getting out from the ground. Her lips didn''t even twitch at Jim''s name. Instructor Green and the trainees were probably dead, and they had to make it back.


    "Let''s go." Kathren sent, and the other nodded in agreement.

 Chapter 37

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    As we marched, we slept on the ground, wrapped in our cloaks like the elves. When we woke, they gave us fruit, nuts, and jerky.


    Days passed, and we never once questioned why we followed or where we were going.


    As the distance increased, we trekked through the Great Forest. A place humans were never able to visit before. The stories of its wonders and cities echoed across Olimpia daily based solely on speculation.


    What we found was ruin. Hardly a mile would be passed without the signs of the forest being torn apart in a fierce battle. The villages whose homes were grown from the trees themselves, with stone walls and a few buildings on the ground, were all deserted.


    And then we passed the remnants of a city. We could only tell it was a city by the broken walls containing a void the forest had yet to close.


    Day after day, we marched, and one scene of destruction after another passed by. And we felt nothing. We never questioned nor objected. There was no horror filling our hearts.


    In a forest ¡ª thousands of miles wide ¡ª destruction was all we ever found.


    And then, groups of elves numbering between a dozen and a couple hundred started walking from the destruction and joining our group.


    Our numbers swelled as we walked through the forest of death.


    And though I did not see it then, I remember now they all had looks of despair and exhaustion. At least those who didn''t have blank masks as faces and empty, dull eyes.


    The Elves were a ravaged, dying people.


    **********


    I had a headache. And it wasn''t because I was knocked out a couple times and had brain damage. It was from annoyance.


    After Kanieta left, there was a brief, rushed conversation where the two who weren''t already up were woken up.


    Most wanted to bust out of the cage right now. It was still before dawn, and they didn''t want to waste any time if we could break out and make a run for it in the dark. No one trusted the shadow, but if a fraction of what it said was true, they would have a fate worse than death if we stayed.


    Our discussion was brought to a crashing halt when one of the guards we had been ignoring because they never noticed suddenly came over and disrupted our mental energy.


    After that, any discussion was moot, as the guards hung around our cage until morning, and if we so much as glared at each other, the fucking guards would knock us out again, smiling and laughing the whole time.


    More accurately, it knocked me out. Everyone else was made uncomfortable for a few moments.


    Ten minutes after the sun rose, someone sent a mental tendril to touch my mind, and the beastkin somehow detected it and knocked me out¡­ Again!


    I was done with this whole thing and was lying on the ground, trying to ignore everyone and wait for our chance.


    Not that the scouts stopped communicating. They were filling the cage with mouthed words, whispers, and hand signs. Even some of the other cages got involved, though we couldn''t hear anything from their cages. Not all of which was going unnoticed.


    The fucking scouts just could not accept that no matter what we would have preferred, we had to wait!


    As the morning passed, we finally all settled down, and the roaring noise of thousands of people moving outside the walls was eerily quiet. Like they were no longer there¡­ The battle will start today. I glumly thought to myself. And we are out of the fight¡­


    The noise never came back, and the hair on the back of my neck rose in nervous energy. We were in danger.


    When the noonday sun hung in the sky, I could feel the others bracing themselves. Quick hang signs flashed to those in the other cages, signaling them to ready themselves for action, causing them to tense in anticipation.


    Our eyes flicked to each other, then the fortress''s gates crashed open. A group was walking through the center of the gates. Their bodies were covered in necklaces, bracelets, and strips of colored cloth bands. Cloaks hugged open, exposing their chests where strips of leather crossed and were clasped around their necks with a hood that covered their faces in shadow.


    As I watched them walk into the courtyard, their cloaks and long strips of cloth wrapped around and covering them were fluttering and hanging in the air far more than could be explained by their slow, measured walk. A low murmur of words hung in the air while others lashed out in a harsh striking undercurrent.


    I did not understand their words, but I could make out a pattern and cadence as they took one step after another, marching forward.


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    Shaking my head, I struggled to pull my eyes away from the group. Even with my head turned to the side, I had to resist a constant pull to look back at the group and watch. This ain''t normal. I thought for the first time since the procession first entered the walls.


    Those near me were also struggling to resist the mental attraction to different degrees of success. Most of those in the cage had their eyes wholly locked on the beastkin, but some could turn their heads slightly to the side. And a few more were like me and able to look completely away. I saw Celeste and Sathera among those.


    Stabilizing the ripples filling my mind due to the procession influence, I carefully turned my head back. I wanted to inspect the edges of the group to see if I could discover anything. I knew that I would not be able to fully look upon them without losing myself again, but I should be able to look around them.


    The first thing I noticed was a haze hanging in the air around the group. It looked like steam radiating from the ground, and like steam, the farther I looked from the group, the less distinct the haze became.


    Once I looked more than seven feet to the side of them, I could no longer see any sign of whatever it was¡­ it has to be a spell, right? Their mana? Can''t think of anything else it could be.


    As I looked around the group, I tried to spot anything that could help us. Knowing they were manipulating us was all good and fine, but we can''t run or even use our powers, so what good is that information?


    Then my eyes locked on a group of three trailing behind the procession.


    The leading figure was already watching me, and as our eyes locked, I saw Kanieta''s eyes light up in amusement and mouth the word ''wait'' to me before breaking off to the side.


    I gave no sign of reacting to her and kept my eyes gliding around the procession as they slowly walked to the center of the square. Their slow pace gave me plenty of time to adapt to the constant pull of their spell, and I was able to inspect them closer.


    It didn''t accomplish anything, as there was nothing else I noticed about the group, but learning to resist the mental pull was probably good to learn.


    Kanieta and her group stopped at the edge of the courtyard with their backs to the stone wall while the procession marched to the center of the stone disk with all its intricate patterned lines. When they finally reached the center, their chant reached a crescendo before cutting off all at once.


    The small pulling I felt at this point vanished. The thirteen beastkin stood in place for long seconds, and the constant fluttering of the clothes finally stopped.


    Then the gathered beastkin turned and started walking towards different parts of the diagram.


    An old conniving voice broke the silence choking the square. "So, Chieftain Kanieta, before our army finishes their march to an easy victory, are you ready to join us in our cause. Will you make our people stronger, or only watch us suffer and die."


    "What gives you the right, Jolten?" Rang out Kanieta''s voice from my side of the square. I looked over in surprise to see her standing at the side of the bride''s mouth thirty feet from me. She was just at the other corner, right? "There has been no Conclave. No vote has been cast, and none of the clans have agreed to this escalation with the Olimpians. You are planning to rip out their souls to enhance our power! They will never let that slide!"


    At the last bit, she was shouting, and everyone in the other cages snapped their heads around to look at her, faces filled with dread. Everyone in mine already knew, but I saw their faces set in resolve and fists clenched.


    "Look!" Kanieta shouted, sweeping her arm at us, "They don''t even understand what is happening or if my words are true, but they already look ready to fight. What you propose goes over the line, Jolten!" When she said the old beastkin''s name, it was filled with disgust and hatred.


    As she spoke, the look of arrogant confidence never shifted from the old beastkin''s face. Then he spoke in a condescending tone, "You are young, Kanieta. You dream of the idealistic world the foolish elders of your youth dreamt of. The Olimpians are weak and divided. We will take advantage of their weakness to strike them down as any predator should."


    My back stiffened in alarm as I felt something slip up my back and wrap around my throat, squeezing. I choked, gasping for air and clawing at the spongy surface. "I ask one more time, Elder, step back from your plan. Let me kill all of these prisoners, and we can walk away like none of this has happened."


    "No," was all the Elder said, a mocking smile spreading over his face. "I think we will draw out all the power we can from these weaklings and show the People the power we can have if we just acted."


    At his words, a half dozen more beastkin walked into the courtyard from the gate and began walking around the diagram, eyeing those of us in the cages. Their teeth were pulled back, showing off their sharp, yellowing teeth. Their smiles were filled with malicious pleasure. With every step they took, we stepped or shuffled back, bracing ourselves as close to the far walls of the cages as possible.


    Kanieta let out a sigh of resignation, then said, "So be it."


    Without any warning, I was thrown off my feet and started tumbling head over feet before falling on my side and scraping over the ground. At some point during my tumbling, I heard a loud clang of metal. But with the blur of motion, I could not tell what was happening.


    When I came to a stop, I was lying on my stomach, looking down at the gray stone. Over the beating of my heart, I heard a whisper, almost too faint for me to make out, "Distract them as long as you can. Fight for our peoples!"


    "If you are going to go against the Conclave''s will ¡ª throwing us into a genocidal war ¡ª use the elf first. The Olimpians hate their kind for their weakness. He should be easy to overcome." Said a voice. I couldn''t really focus at the moment as my energy was disrupted again, breaking my enhancement.


    A smug voice said, "I''m glad you have come around. You will be begging to join the formation once you see the power of a Soul Stone. Now, let¡¯s¡­ begin!"


    With my constant usage of mental energy in my head and the practice I was getting, I had just reestablished my casting. I was getting pretty good at it, and I was almost sure my skull had healed slightly from my concussion.


    As the rasping voice finished, the stone under me flashed a bright blue. The light speared into my eyes and then seeped into my body.


    The farther the energy pressed into me, the more I felt the invasion. I was being defiled on a fundamental level.


    I tried to fight against the invading energy, pushing my will against its progression, but as I confronted one area, another advanced. And with my energy occupied in my mind, I could not send it out to face the power. Which left me to fight the energy invading my body with pure willpower.


    When it finally reached my mind, the blue energy latched onto my mental energy and started pulling it out of my grasp.


    I knew I was screaming but could not hear it as my world devolved into pain so intense and profound I had never felt it''s like. A pain that had nothing to do with the body, as my mind''s enhancement was still in place.

 Chapter 38

    Scroll Fragment in the Flenk Family¡¯s Private Library¡ª


    ¡ªcan not comment on it, and that is not because of my lack of desire. It is because, like most Houses, we are in the dark.


    We, the Flenk, can trace our lineage back to the founding of Olimpia. We were one of the Families that jockeyed for power in the beginning ¡ª and as is apparent ¡ª we lost.


    During the time that we were oppressed for daring to challenge the victories, our elders learned an important lesson that has been passed down over the ages.


    Too much power leads to destruction.


    Those at the top eventually tumble to the bottom, and the fall will destroy them.


    Time and again, new families have spent centuries working their way up the social ranks until they meet or momentarily surpass the power of The Twelve ¡ª those families that laid the foundation of Olimpia and rule it to this day.


    And yet, any family that rises to that level will disappear like it never existed within a couple generations.


    We have records of those times, and most of the time, The Twelve had no involvement in their fall. Though on occasion, the broken families are assimilated into one of The Twelve.


    For millennia, The Twelve have existed while all others vanished.


    But we ¡ª the Flenk ¡ª remember, and we have watched while keeping our heads down.


    I have scoured our library and believe I discovered the truth, if not the why or how.


    The Twelve are waiting while acting as guardians. And they are guarding that which we all mock but can never destroy.


    They are guarding The¡ª


    **********


    The abruptness and source of the attack took Sathera off guard. Attack was the only way to describe a strand of shadow taking physical form and throwing her Instructor out of the cage as the bars moved aside on their own.


    She should have moved closer to them when the slick, cool shadows wrapped around everyone, but she was so surprised when the shadow tendrils suddenly appeared that the thought never occurred to her.


    Then that bitch of a beastkin threw him into the center of the stone plate, offering him up as a sacrifice.


    The worst part was that no one even spoke up. Even Sathera felt a momentary sense of relief that Instructor was offered to them and not her, to her shame. But that was only the smallest of traitorous thoughts that briefly passed through her mind.


    Sathera saw Celeste have a smile of enjoyment stretching her face almost to the breaking point. It was surprising that her lips didn''t rip apart and started bleeding. The smile was so wide Sathera thought her lips were touching her eyes for a moment.


    As the door slammed shut on their cage, Instructor Green was getting up, then the ground around his feet burst into a blue light. In the center, the blue light was a solid circle, but farther out, the light was arranged in pulsing strange patterns and symbols, beating like one heart as it led back to four figures.


    Not all of the figures around the circle looked to be ¡ª the only word Sathera could think of was¡­ feeding ¡ª the blue¡­ spell? It was the right word, but she really had no idea what it meant.


    Four of the thirteen had their hands out and were muttering something that she could not fully make out or understand. The others were a step back from the edge of the outermost glowing ring.


    Even though they weren''t currently participating in whatever they were doing, their faces were that of concentration and focus. Their bodies were tensed as if waiting to jump forward and act.


    Seconds passed, and the breath in her throat was caught halfway down, forming a lump as she waited, and the blue light in the center intensified.


    She remembered the shadow from the night before, what it said. If it was true, then¡­


    Instructor Green started screaming as he writhed on the ground, and the light in the center area he was lying in started to dim.


    "Two more enter the array!" Shouted the old beastkin, his voice strained with effort.


    Without any hesitation, two of the robed beastkin on opposite sides of the circle stepped forward, the ground at their feet lighting up in the same blue glow that was around the four others.


    With the two stepping forward, the slightly dimming light below Instructor Green burst forth again with new power, and his screams grew louder.


    The spectacle drew her in, and before she knew what was happening, her body was less than an inch from the bars facing the square. With every increasingly throat-tearing scream, her breathing hastened, becoming shallower as her chest tightened.


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    And then the blue energy started seeping out of Instructor Green''s skin, pouring from his eyes, mouth, nose, and ears. Except it wasn''t the same.


    As the blue energy blobbed up from his skin, like drops of water falling off a ledge but opposite, the energy was tainted with a darker shade in its center that bled into the rest of the color of the energy.


    When the energy exited Green''s body, it would collect above him and join a mass with a strand of blue power running between it and the center of Green''s chest.


    His screams echoed off the walls of the fort, and as his mouth opened, his jaw looked as if it was forced slightly wider as yet another blob of tainted energy ripped itself free from his body.


    "Another two join the circle!" Shouted the old beastkin, and two more stepped forward.


    Sathera''s fists were clenched at her sides. She wanted to reach forward and rip the bars apart.


    "Be patient," whispered a voice in her ear, "or his sacrifice will be worthless." Looking to the side in surprise, Sathera saw nothing.


    She didn''t see anyone standing right next to her, at least. She saw the rest of the cage''s occupants, who were also gathered on this side of the cage.


    What surprised her the most was Celeste''s smile had diminished.


    Celeste might be a racist bitch who enjoyed hurting elves, but even she could tell something was wrong. The energy that they were pulling from Green was¡­ there was something in the energy. She could not tell what, but it was sacred. And these beasts were desecrating it.


    "No one is paying attention," the voice whispered again, "gather everyone into your linking." Looking to the side and farther away, she looked where she felt the voice was coming from.


    Past the cage bars and with her back leaned against the stone walls of the fort was the beastkin who had thrown Instructor Green from the cage. The beastkin''s lips curled in a secretive smile, then her mouth moved ever so slightly.


    Sathera heard nothing, and she began to scowl as her face reddened in rage. Then the voice appeared seconds after the beastkin woman spoke. "Yes, it''s me who''s talking. And don''t get your tail in a twist. Someone was going to be thrown in there. Green is the only one among you who has a chance of occupying all of them for your escape."


    "You killed him!" Sathera hissed at the beastkin, anger burning inside of her.


    "Maybe, maybe not. It''s up to his willpower and if you act fast enough. What I never said last night, ''cause it wasn''t relevant, was that if the person inside the Soul Harvest Spell outlasts the casters or if they are disrupted, the spell will be broken with the casters dying, as all of their mana is sucked out. Most of the energy pulled out of the target of the spell will return to its owner. The reports I read said that about half of the subjects lived during a broken spell. So if you believe in him, gather everyone up, and prepare to brake the cage. Wait for all the mages to be in the casting because once they are in, they cannot get out without hurting themselves." Before her words reached Sathera through whatever relay she was using, the beastkin had already turned and started walking, her two guards following on her heels.


    Sathera waited for long seconds, watching the beastkin walk down the river''s shoreline past the bridge to the other side of the half-circle walls.


    A scream from Instructor Green, louder than before, caused her to turn around, facing the spectacle in the square.


    Interspersed between the screams that can only indicate someone experiencing an unimaginable pain was a constant drone of voices.


    In the beginning, the voices were quiet, hardly noticeable, and were hidden whenever another scream tore out of the Instructor''s throat. But now, the drone was growing louder and more forceful as it resonated with power.


    The voices combined, and she couldn''t tell where one started and another ended. She felt the power they were wielding as it beat against her skin. Like the theoretical beings of old, the gods had appeared before her and spoken. It demanded attention, and what was spoken was brought into reality by sheer force of will.


    She could feel her attention being drawn toward the event happening before her, and it took a long moment for her to pull her eyes away and step back from the bars closest to the event.


    It was different from a mental working to draw attention to something, as all the energy before them was geared towards another terrible objective. But Sathera had never felt something so real¡­ It called to her on a visceral level.


    Significant might be a better word.


    And hidden among all of the gathered energy was something else. It was born from neither the beastkins nor the Olimpians. Sathera always wanted it. She yearned for whatever it was but knew deep down that she did not deserve it.


    Blinking again, she took a deep breath, as she had been drawn back to watching the casting without her knowing. And so had everyone else, as she discovered when she turned to look at the other cages. Everyone was watching the events with either a look of longing or horrified, burning rage in their eyes.


    Throwing a couple quick glances over her shoulder, she found that two more of the watchers had joined the casting, leaving only two more robed beastkin besides the guards and female beastkin on the far side of the square. And even the other beastkin in the courtyard had similar looks on their faces as the Olimpians and weren''t paying attention to anything else but the spell.


    Centering herself and gathering her psy, she sent out two tendrils, slamming them into the minds of two of her fellow prisoners. It was rather rude, but she needed to get their attention.


    Celeste and a man looked at her in surprise and annoyance, but as she gestured around the square to everyone not paying attention to them with her chin, their eyes lit up in realization. After that, they quickly accepted the link and set about sending out links to everyone in the cage.


    Sathera''s stomach growled, as they had not been fed, and she felt the hunger underpinning the Union, but she and everyone else ignored it.


    "We brake open the cage, then free the others." She sent, "That female said they can''t stop once they start, so this is our best chance to get free."


    "How can we trust her," Celeste replied, her suspicion coming through with the mental message, "What is she getting out of this?"


    "Does it matter? Overwhelming the cage makes sense, and Instructor Green is dying in a¡­ horrific way. What they are doing is wrong, and no one can say they want to die that way." To her mental message, no one could reply. "We wait for the last pair." She ordered, getting a feeling of acceptance in return.


    They did not have to wait long, as within a minute, the old beastkin called them forward before he stepped into the spell formation himself. They waited a few moments, and then Sathera gathered the psy and collected it into a bar before aiming it at the back of the cage. It didn''t matter where they attacked, as none of them could tell where the gate of the cage was. Any spot was good as another.


    Their collective working smashed into the back of the cage, ripping the bars from the floor and roof of the cage. As Sathera was expecting more resistance, the working hit the cage behind them, busting it open as well. There was a slight resistance as some of their energy was ripped away, but they hardly noticed.


    A smile spread across Sathera''s face after a moment of surprise, and then she stepped forward and began guiding the psy to rip apart the other cages, thinking, "We''re coming, Instructor."

 Chapter 39

    Diary Fragment in the Flenk Family¡¯s Private Library¡ª


    ¡ªthrough our ancestral family library. Scouring it from top to bottom. That is not all I have done. I went a step further and have gone to other families and clans.


    They might not have as long of a lineage as us, but few besides the Dozen do. It is understandable, as all the other families that existed at the Founding have overstepped the unspoken line at some point and vanished to time.


    Even if the families I went to are not as old as the Flenk, they have existed for centuries, and their perspectives have significantly added to my studies. There are clues hidden in their archives they do not understand the importance of.


    But how could they? They are not looking at the past for answers, as I am.


    Within every family, and especially within my own, there are those who go digging into the past. They search for relics and forgotten fortresses of the elves. Or they look into the first few decades of Olimpia, and the Elven War, where our legions marched into the heart of their kingdom and destroyed them utterly after The Betrayal.


    In every investigation, they discover something. It could be small and considered insignificant to many. But the largest of trees starts from a single seed.


    Whatever the results of their research might have been, no one ever finds out. Because they always stop.


    The investigation stops, never to start again. It is not because they are killed. There are no hints they were threatened into silence. All on their own, they just stop looking and move on to another research topic or none at all.


    Something larger than I can imagine is going on, and I''m no longer sure I want to find out the answer to why that is.


    But then again, maybe I already have it¡­


    **********


    Sathera rushed forward along with those linked to her, exiting the cage, her feet dancing between the fallen cage bars in case they still had an effect. Turning, she ran down the line of cages, using her mental strands to rip the metal bars apart of the two closest cages.


    Every cage she destroyed ate away at the psy energy she had control over, but it was quickly replenished as more and more people joined the Mental Union.


    Sathera felt those with more significant reserves join the network, destabilizing it as she struggled to properly guide the large amounts of psy. She had never controlled such amounts of psy before and did not have the level of control needed to adapt quickly.


    The Union was going to collapse soon, that was a fact, but it did not matter. Even as Sathera lost control of the psy, others prepared to form new groups and attack the beastkin.


    She knew those plans were being made, could feel them in the back of her mind, but she paid little attention. Her focus was on freeing the prisoners from the last four cages.


    Feet beating against the ground, she slid to a stop in the intersection between the last four cages. Gathering her will, she reinforced the fraying edges of the two mental strands she could manage with this amount of psy.


    Being as careful as she could while not taking her time, she weaved her two strands between the bars of one of the cages, then spread them in opposite directions like a pair of shears opening.


    As she was weaving her strands through the bars, they grazed the energy sappers a couple of times, causing portions of the condensed psy to vanish. But that was nothing compared to when the length of the strands hit the cage walls.


    It was only for a moment as the strands smashed into the cage''s roof and floor forcing them apart, but the sections touching the cage had a third of the energy ripped from them. And more psy was lost as Sathera struggled to reform the leaking strands quickly.


    She had plenty of psy ¡ª more than she could properly use ¡ª but with every chunk taken out of the strand, a piece of her willpower was taken along with it, which was in a far shorter supply. The effects were adding up.


    Not that Sathera would resort to smashing the cages open like she did not the first four. While smashing was fast, and she lost less willpower, it took a lot more psy. Psy that would be needed soon enough to fight. So efficiency over brute force was the name of the day.


    Taking a few seconds to focus, she reformed the strands before repeating the process on another cage. As the shriek of metal tour through the day once more, she knew she had pushed herself too far.


    Pulling what psy was left from the twisted cage bars and curled roof, she compacted it as much as she could before throwing it at one of the last two cages.


    The psy she threw at the cage was more of a loose comet than a proper force wall or spear, but it got the job done. A trench lined with stone fragments was formed in the casting''s wake as it dug into the courtyard, revealing the dark soil beneath.


    Like a battering ram, the psy casting struck the cage, throwing it to the side as the casting plowed through it without any sign of stopping. The cage was left at a forty-five-degree angle from the rest of the cages, and the occupants looked shaken up, but the cage was broken open, and they were relatively unharmed.


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    Sathera aimed the blast to hit the last two cages in their opposing corners, but the comet broke up a few feet after hitting the first cage. The second cage did little more than shake slightly from the minor impacts that made it all the way.


    Collapsing to her knees, her arms hung loosely at her sides as it took all of her focus just to stop herself from falling to the ground.


    She could see those in the last cage gather up on the side closest to her. They looked at her, pleading for help with their eyes, but all she could do was give the tiniest shake of her head, she was spent, and the mental network had already collapsed. It was all she could do to stay conscious, with the added weight of the backlash from Union collapsing adding itself to her mental exhaustion.


    Their shoulders slumped for a moment, then they jerked slightly and turned as a man stepped forward while the others took a step back. He waved his hand, and the cage bars exploded outward as the top curled back on itself.


    His face had a large bruise on the right side of his face, and the left side of his clothes was singed like he fell into a fire and rolled around. He was in his late fifties or early sixties as he looked in the prime of his life, placing him solidly in the first third of his life for humans. His face was blocky and weathered like he had spent most of his life outdoors.


    With strides filled with confidence, he walked out of the cage stopping next to Sathera, looking down at her, and giving her a nod of approval before he swept a look around the courtyard.


    As he looked around, she felt a probe at her mind. She was far from recovered, but she had centered herself enough that she could join the Union.


    "I''m Centurion Markus of the scouts. Who are you?" Asked the man mentally in a brusk tone.


    "Scout trainee Sathera, I was captured with Instructor Green as we were scouting the western side of the Rush," Sathera replied. Mental communication was not limited by the body and could happen as fast as thought if one was willing to spend the psy. Markus apparently was since he wanted to catch up on the situation.


    "Report." Was all the centurion sent to her.


    Deciding to start from the beginning, she briefly covered their traveling from the Triad to search for beastkin activity. How Instructor Green found an outpost and destroyed it before coming into contact with a female beastkin, who Sathera believed was the leader of the small group on the far side of the courtyard. How she took him to infiltrate a fort covered in illusions and discovered the barges with towers. And then how he came back to them to tell them about it all before splitting up into two groups, one being the distraction before they were captured.


    Markus took in the information before asking, "Can the barges be covered by the illusions as they move?"


    ¡°¡­We don''t know. But, umm, Instructor Green feared they could."


    Centurion Markus sent her a feeling of agreement, "It would be a mistake to think they can¡¯t¡­ But, hmm. If she helped him, why did she throw him into that¡­ abomination¡­"


    They all could feel it, and they knew the others could as well through the mental links. What was happening to Instructor Green was going against the laws of the world. It was fundamentally wrong.


    ¡°Umm¡­ She sent me a message saying she thought Instructor was the only one that could pull them all into the spell ¡ª that''s what they call their castings. They can''t stop once they start, and if we interrupt them, he might live." Sathera wasn''t wholly comfortable relaying the information, as an enemy sent it to her, but the centurion needed to know everything.


    "Might?"


    "She said that even if they stopped halfway though, he might never regain his mind¡­"


    ¡°¡­Understood." Sent Centurion Markus to her, a feeling of regret and grief coming through for a moment. The whole time that they talked to each other, she felt the other groups falling into place under Markus''s network.


    At the end of their mental conversation, brief as it was, Sathera would have sworn everyone in the cages was in the Union. "Squads two through five secure the far side of the bridge. Squads six through nine clear the square. Trainees gather at the bridge entrance. Squad one on me." Markus scent through the mental network along with pictures.


    While everyone was gathering together and facing off with the guards shouting and rushing toward us, there was no organization. Each group was doing its own thing.


    Markus''s words caused everyone to jump into action.


    Sathera took a moment after the words to gather her strength as everyone ran off. With a grunt of effort, she picked herself up and started shuffling down the line of cages.


    She was halfway through the cages when Bellous ¡ª a fellow trainee ¡ª appeared beside her and slid under her arm, supporting her weight. She gave him a look of surprise, as she thought she was the only one left alive. Bellous only gave her a nod at her look before looking forward, not saying a work.


    As they shuffled, Sathera saw the teams pick up or rip off the bars from the cages that no long sucked away our psy with it came into contact with it and use them as spears and clubs to kill the two dozen or so beastkin guards that came rushing at them.


    The scouts rushed forward and slaughtered the beastkin. There were some casualties, but none of the fighters cared. All they wanted was to take out their fury of being captured and the visceral disgust of what was happening to Instructor Green out on the beastkin.


    Sathera searched for the Beastkin woman but couldn''t find her or her people in the square. It was like she was never there, to begin with. But she did see Markus and four others standing at the edge of the circle, the robed beastkin inside giving them looks of fear as their movements and murmurs became frantic.


    He stood for a moment before thrusting his hand at one of the beastkin, causing a cobblestone to rip from the ground and smash the back of the beastkin''s head in.


    The blue glow of the formation flickered for an instant before settling at the beastkin''s death. The spell was still going, but Markus wasn''t discouraged and quickly set about killing the rest after the first success. None of them were able to lift a finger to stop him. Though the old arrogant beastkin''s face twisted in rage and turned purple as he watched his impending death approach.


    When the last beastkin fell to the ground, the blue glow at the edges of the spell was the first to fade as it slowly shrank inwards, like trickling water. Once the shrinking glow reached the inner ring, the blue ground lasted for a few seconds longer before fading to nothing.


    Though the blue energy was no longer lighting the ground, there was still a blue layer of energy coating his body and the darker purple energy hanging over Instructor Green''s form, bobbing like a leaf floating on a lake.


    What could only be Instructor Green''s psy ¡ª and might be more ¡ª jerked down before bobbing up slightly. It happened multiple times over a minute, each time inching closer to his body before a portion of it touched his head and was sucked into him.


    It was not all of the purple energy, hardly even half, but when the rest of the energy was dispersed into the air, it no longer felt like a travesty.


    Green''s body arched upwards, balancing on his head and tips of his toes as the psy entered him before he finally stopped screaming as he collapsed to the stone.


    "Remember," Hissed an ambient voice filling the square, "The Red Tail Faction had nothing to do with this."


    No one said anything for a moment before Markus barked, "Grab Green and destroy the stone plate! Let''s go, people!" He added when we didn''t immediately react.

 Chapter 40

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    I do not know how long we marched with the elves, seeing the remnants of their nation. Everything was a blur, as my mind was in a delirious fog.


    After the first month, I didn''t want to remember and stopped fighting off the mental manipulation. The reality of seeing a ruined city after an unending sea of graveyards was unnerving.


    I only can guess how long we marched by the trip back and how long we were told we had been gone, but we had to have been marching through the Great Forest for around a year.


    A year stolen from our lives.


    After that time passed, we walked out from under the forest bows, and our minds immediately snapped into focus. We could not remember everything, but we knew the time we were forced to march was significant.


    We were standing at the apex of a curve in the forest''s border. On the left side, the forest looked to have stretched to the base of the distant mountains lining the horizon. The right stretched beyond my vision to see, but not nearly as far as the other side.


    But the vastness of the forest only caught my attention for a moment. What clamped my attention into its iron grip was¡­ even now, I struggle to describe it.


    Calling it a fortress doesn''t do it justice. It is to a fortress what a village is to a city. It was miles wide with layers of walls ringing it. Towers and walls stood hundreds of feet tall.


    And all around it were the beastmen dead.


    **********


    Unending pain was washing over me. It pressed in on my mind, chipping away piece after piece before whisking them away.


    The stolen portions of myself were not utterly stripped from me, as I could feel them. They were muffled but still somehow connected.


    At first, I fought against the pain. I reached out through the tenuous connection with my will to pull back the stolen portions of myself. But once a strand of willpower left my core, a wave of that corrosive energy washed over the outstretched section.


    It felt like my very soul was being eaten away by the energy, sending me into new peaks of writhing agony and breaking my concentration. I tried to pull back the section of my will that I had extended, but it was already so corroded by the energy that it ripped off when I pulled back on it, sending another wave of suffering over me.


    It was overwhelming, too much for my mind to handle. I longed to pass out and fall into blissful darkness, but it would not come. So I started pulling my mind into my core, the center of my being.


    But the pain never lessened, only increased. It infused every portion of my body but the center of my mind. As I retreated, more pieces of myself ¡ª that I didn''t even know existed ¡ª were either behind or ripped off. Even my mental energy holding the enhancement in my mind was being ripped away.


    I tried to harden my mental energy with my will, to let the waves of pain and foreign energy wash over me as I remained an unbroken rock. It worked for a time, but the attacking energy was periodically increasing in force and density. I could not judge how long it took, but it was an eternity of suffering for me.


    Every moment, my mind was being beaten into submission by the oppressive unyielding force.


    More and more of the will-infused mental energy shrouding my mind was ripped away, taunting me with how close it remained but still at an impassable distance. I gave up on ever retrieving it.


    Holding onto myself ¡ª what scraps I still had ¡ª I futilely fought.


    Then the energy scraped on my mind. The core of my being, and began to rip it apart.


    I felt something more than the mental energy and willpower ripped from myself.


    And the pain racking my body was nothing. A prick of a pin compared to jumping into a bonfire.


    Except it wasn''t pain. Not really. I knew now. Before, I thought my suffering was like it was soul deep.


    The truth was I just didn''t know what suffering really was.


    It was like my bones were being broken continually, and every strand of muscle and organ was being pulled out of my body one section at a time. Now a fiery acid was eating at every portion of me, and suffering ache deeper than anything I had felt before wracked my mind as another piece was ripped away.


    This was different, though.


    It was something more profound, causing me to feel more fundamentally wrong than merely my flesh being harmed.


    What little energy I had left pushed back against the waves of the foreign power, forcing it back from my core and giving me some space.


    The pain was overwhelming. I had never felt anything like it in my entire life, and I was in no way prepared to resist it.


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    Left to myself, I would have retreated into myself and tried to resist the waves and pressure of the energy until it ground me into nothing.


    But then the energy stole a part of me.


    Sure, the energy had been steadily eating away at my mental energy and will, but that wasn''t the same. It is like hair or fingernails, a part of the body that you can be really attached to at times, but in the grand scheme of things, it''s not that important as it will always come back.


    What was just taken from me was¡­ unequivocally sacred. It was always supposed to be a part of me, as we were one, but now I wasn''t whole.


    I instinctually knew that I would never fully get it back. And that I wouldn''t be¡­ me.


    The pain did not matter. What I was fighting against did not matter. All that mattered was getting back what was mine and making myself whole. An all-consuming drive filled me.


    My mad will flooded into the mental energy surrounding the core of my being. Though a meager about of mental energy, it threw back the waves of power pressing into me.


    I could only extend the energy so far, as I still had to defend my soul from having more of it stolen.


    When I could not reach my stolen fragment, I reached out with my willpower once more. It might have been muffled, like hearing the world through wool ¡ª and the invading energy ate away at its edges ¡ª but I could still feel my power. More so now than before, as a fragment of my soul had been stored within the mass.


    Holding onto what ground I had taken, I pulled at what was stolen. Forcing it to come back to me.


    And it worked. It was slow, but it was making steady progress as I will the energy to return.


    More waves of corrosive power beat against my shell, trying to suppress me. But they were nothing against my will. Then the resisting energy attempted to impede the progress of my returning power by rapidly flowing in its path like a gale wind, but I was still advancing.


    Then the swirling energy around me swelled with more power, and I couldn''t pull my energy any closer. The ones controlling the energy couldn''t force my power further away again, but they didn''t need to. They were doing enough by putting us into a stalemate.


    Because I was on the losing side of a stalemate. I threw my will against the collective I felt fighting me, but I couldn''t make any progress.


    As time passed, it became apparent I wouldn''t win. But I didn''t give up.


    Gradually, my will faltered, and I couldn''t keep the shell protecting my soul up any longer, not as it was.


    I raged against the impending destruction. But with my will being sapped away as I fought, it was a feeble thing.


    Every moment that passed, my shell of protection shrunk. I knew all hope was lost, but I could not stop fighting. Not so long as I was incomplete.


    Then a portion of the collective energy I was fighting stilled. The energy was still there, but the will behind it vanished.


    Without the will, the energy blocking me was no more of an impediment than a strong breeze. I could feel the others in the collective try to control the unguided section, but they failed.


    Gathering my will for one last push, I was surprised to find the minds guiding the other portions of energy begin vanishing one after another. And with their minds gone, the hostile energy was quickly following suit.


    I could feel it dissipating, seeping into the surroundings. As it vanished, it was releasing its grip on my mental energy and soul fragment.


    Reaching out with my will, I pulled my mental energy closer while keeping the surrounding energy from quickly dissipating. I could not stop the mana from entirely dissipating, as it was not mental energy, but they were similar enough I could slow it down.


    Shifting the mana around the lump of mental energy, I brought it closer.


    Already long into this fight, I began to falter when the energy was nearly on top of me. It was only the tiniest bit of distance, but I couldn''t close it.


    But I didn''t need to.


    With the constant pain of the spell the beastkin were casting on me gone and having run myself ragged fighting back, I was rapidly falling into unconscious exhaustion.


    I felt it, though. There was a resonance between the fragment of my soul and my body. They wanted to be together.


    Were drawn together.


    The attraction between the pieces of my soul handled the last bit of distance between them on their own. Pulling a portion of my mental energy along with it, the fragment drifted to the edge of my mental energy before slipping into my body.


    When my soul merged with me again, a portion of the gathered mental energy flowed into me, relieving the hollow sensation I could hardly notice through the aftershocks of pain.


    My soul settled into my body, and I felt nearly complete. As I passed into darkness, I knew something was missing, though. Or was something new added? I couldn''t tell which, but I felt¡­ different.


    **********


    Kathren''s eyes felt sore. And dry. And She wanted to lie on the ground and fall asleep. Where didn''t matter, so long as she was sleeping and left alone for a few hours.


    There was also her body aching from being trapped in the ground, awake for half a day where she was unable to sleep ¡ª cause being trapped in the ground with an arrow for breathing takes concentration to live through ¡ª and then running to the Triad before the sun came up so the beastkin wouldn''t spot them the other half of the day.


    The sweat and dust had combined into a grime that she knew ran in streaks down her body and under her clothing. She could feel it every time she moved, adding to her overall level of discomfort and the pounding headache of sleep deprivation.


    Out of everything that was bothering her, the eyes were the most annoying. Every time she blinked, it felt like she was collecting a ball of dirt in the corner of her eyes.


    Sadly, it was too soon to lie down and fall asleep. And there was no way she would take a bath first. But she would dream of taking one. A long hot bath that she could soak in for hours. And hope that she will be allowed to rest soon. If I can stop telling my superiors, the same report would also be great¡­ Lucky bastards already got away.


    "So," said the Prefect, "Your patrol made contact with a beastkin who led your Instructor to a camp where thousands of beastkin were crossing the river on a bridge they built. But the real issue is that he also discovered they have the ability to create illusions that have nothing to do with the mind ¡ª only the eye ¡ª and have built large barges with structures able to reach the bridges of the Triad. He fears that they will use the bridges covered in illusion to approach during an assault, attacking us from the flank. And the only reason you are here is that he used the rest of the trainees as a distraction while you hid buried in the ground. Before popping up at night to run back. Am I correct?"


    "Yes, Prefect," Kathren replied, arms straight at her side, eyes looking forward.


    "Well, it''s a damn shame he was an elf. He would have made a damn fine Centurion." The Prefect said, shaking her head in regret. "Tribune, make a note of his and the scout trainees'' valor in the Legion Records. I must see the Legat. We have a battle plan to revise. Scout Kathren, go find a cot." With that, the Prefect turned and walked out of the room.


    Kathren left her body slumped as she looked at the ground, wondering if she would be allowed to sleep there.

 Chapter 41

    Excerpt From The Legion''s Scholarly Manual On Casting¡ª


    Though there is no grand conspiracy from the upper echelons of our society to hide the information contained within these pages, the fact remains that many of the common men have no understanding of the workings of psy. Mandatory schooling provides a basic foundation, but youths as a whole are loth to spend their time on study and contemplation, and life being what it is, few parents push their children to excel in casting outside of their family''s chosen profession.


    Whether you understood what was just said or not, understand this, you wasted your youth. If you don''t learn the basics and expand your skills fast, you will be killed in battle.


    The first thing to understand, and a surprising number don''t, is that the basics of casting are founded in three disciplines, all of which are interlinked to some degree. And while natural, innate psy reserves matter to casting, they do not count as a discipline.


    Control is the first discipline and foundation of all casting. It encompasses how well one manipulates and uses psy. We ¡ª the scholars ¡ª have found the first step of gaining the ability to cast the next tier of techniques within any discipline is determined by how many simultaneous tendrils one can manipulate.


    This includes changing the shape of tendrils into any shape one may desire and having them act independently, not just forming multiple standard tendrils linked together.


    **********


    Markus''s legs pumped as he sucked in one breath after another, pushing himself up the arch of the bridge. Reaching the apex, he stopped, taking a moment to look back over his shoulder.


    Green''s trainees, the two still alive, were halfway to him. Behind them, steadily backing their way up the bridge, was the rear guard, consisting of most of the scouts that were in the cages. Which were Squads one, six, seven, eight, and nine.


    One of their number was carrying Green''s unconscious body over her shoulders, following after the trainees while the forty-seven others faced off against the increasing numbers of beastkin at the bottom of the bridge. The stream of beastkin rushing through the fort''s gate was only increasing.


    No matter how skilled his scouts were, they could only hold off those numbers for a short time. But Markus only needed a couple minutes to get his bearings and make a decision.


    The coming deaths were already weighing on his shoulders, joining those already there, but he needed to shove them away and clear his mind. If he made the wrong choice, they all could die¡­ And then their deaths, and all those before, would be worthless.


    Pausing as he looked backward, he closed his eyes for a single second. In that moment, he let the guilt press down on his soul. He let himself wallow in self-pity. That was all he allowed himself. Opening his eyes, he drove the inconsequential thoughts away, focusing on the moment.


    Turning forward, his eyes swept over the mud-covered clearing making up the bridge''s exit on the eastern side of the Rush, then he kept turning to look downstream.


    His body froze as his mind raced to come up with a solution to their situation. And to help the 15th Legion.


    It did not take a tactical genius to realize what it meant that the thousands ¡ª tens of thousands ¡ª of troops he watched marching over the bridge and the obvious signs of construction on the beaches of the Rush were gone.


    And while he had never seen or heard of beastkin showing this level of intelligence, the facts were impossible to deny. The threat could not be underestimated. Olimpia needs to know¡­


    His eyes drifted down the river, his mind racing down the twists and turns until he imagined looking upon the three-pronged bridge with the forts at its base. A testament to Olimpian innovation. Then his mental picture was intruded on by thousands of beastkin.


    Beastkin who controlled rivers of fire and could alter visible reality at a whim. Like the dome of splotchy colors he had looked at throughout his entire imprisonment until this morning. Markus believed in Olimpia and her legions. They stood firm against the hoards and Imperium for thousands of years.


    Markus had no doubt in his mind that the legions could hold back the beastkin¡­


    If they understood what they were facing. If we had the numbers. If they were a veteran legion, not a backwater training guard force.


    With all of them ¡ª shit with one of them ¡ª Markus would be confident that the Triad had a chance to stand firm. But they didn''t have any¡­


    The Triad is going to fall. Markus acknowledged to himself in resignation. Word of these events has to get out, especially with the 1st turma dead.


    Not one to turn away from reality, Markus''s eyes and head turned to look upstream. Where they were on the river''s course, it ran north to south, but it did start to curve to the west before turning back north.


    The path would take them a bit out of the way, but they could eventually find or make a way to pass over the river. What was really important to Markus was getting out of the theater of this battle. While the beastkin came from the northeastern side of the forest, the majority of their troops had to have passed by, right?


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    Making it much easier to slip by any scouts and making their way to Cross.


    His glazed-over eyes snapped into focus as a plan coalesced in his mind. Turning his head from the river, his eyes widened in shock and fear.


    The bridge''s apex put him about halfway up the trees on the riverbank, and being in the center of the river gave him a better angle to look upstream.


    More excuses flashed through his mind, but he knew the real reason. The fish were just too untrained.


    The reasons no longer mattered, though. Markus was the first to notice, and he was just happy someone did.


    Motion filled the forest upstream. On the banks of the river, he could make out figures moving between the trees. Not a few, but dozens. Hundreds.


    Last he checked, there were no Olimpians north of them.


    As he searched the shoreline upstream, something came around the distant bend in the river. At first, he couldn''t make it out, but as more came into view, he realized. It was a barge.


    A massive one.


    Figures were moving around its edges, as the center was filled with wooden crates and other piles covered in cloth sheets.


    With his spike of alarm filling the mental network, the fish at the base of the eastern side of the bridge entered a heightened state of awareness.


    In quick succession, they sent out warning signals as they spotted movement in the tree line. Better late than never, I guess. Markus thought with a resigned sigh.


    "Move it, people!" Shouted Markus mentally and with his words. While it was unnecessary, he found that people often responded faster when a voice was shouting in their faces.


    One of the unspoken lessons the legion taught was how to drown out others while in a link. While you were never supposed to block out the link, as life-saving information could come through at any time, when someone was in shock, it could happen subconsciously.


    Shouting in their faces while sending a message directly into their mind always seemed to snap them out of their thoughts. And the jump is always entertaining. He thought, a smile almost coming onto Markus''s face.


    Putting his words into action, Markus ran down the arching bridge. Behind him, he heard the trainees shuffle along with Scout Harrena ¡ª who was carrying Green ¡ª sticking next to them.


    He could not see it, but Markus felt the rear guard rip off and throw a portion of the bridge at those threatening them before turning and sprinting away. The shock they felt at the disruption of their psy strands was impossible to miss.


    Sliding to a stop on the muddy ground, Markus''s gaze quickly took in the empty clearing before turning around with a grim look.


    "Feed me, psy," Markus sent to the nearby squads.


    The flood of energy made his head swim for a moment as the rush hit him all at once. Then he reached out with two tendrils to either side of the bridge.


    "Hurry the fuck up!" Markus shouted in encouragement to those still coming over the bridge.


    Their little trick gave them a few moments to get up to a full sprint, but it did not matter. The beastkin are far faster than any Olimpian, even when augmenting themselves with psy.


    At the bridge''s apex, those in the rear were set upon by the pursewing beastkin.


    The moment Markus saw it, he sent an order to those at the rear, "Hold them back for thirty seconds, then jump over the sides."


    There was a moment of mental silence before the reply came, ¡°¡­yes, Centurion! Long live the Republic!"


    "Long live the Republic," Markus replied, his voice solemn. Instantly the five in the back turned and faced the hoard, bars raid.


    Seconds passed, each one like the toll of a bell, and the five legionaries at the rear desperately fought against the rust of enemies. They used their steel bars as spears thrusting with psy-enhanced power at those who got close.


    Even as they fought, they continually took steps back to avoid being overwhelmed.


    He might not have been the Scout Centurion long, but Markus could not be prouder of the scouts'' skill. Those were the legionaries he led. And more ashamed that he was forced to ask them to do such a task.


    His scouts had long since left behind fighting in a shield wall, but he would put them up against any cohort in the legion. In perfect centricity, two of the five thrusts out while the others took a step back. The three thrust their own makeshift weapon as the two others stepped back.


    When one was in trouble, one or both of their neighbors stepped forward to block or miss direct the attack.


    After ten seconds and dozens of rapid beats of his heart, Markus felt the slightest hope flicker to life in his chest. They might just live to jump off the bridge into the ice melt of a river.


    Then a beastkin lunged forward, reaching from the legs of one of the legionaries.


    She tried to step to the side while the man beside her attempted to slam the close end of this bar into the warrior''s head, but both failed. There were too many beastkin around them, and they were too few.


    Pulling back with his hind legs, the beastkin pulled the screaming woman out of formation, her screams silencing from one moment to the next.


    With the woman out of formation, the legionaries were brought down within seconds. Stabbed in the chest by those with spears and then smashed in the head with clubs. One man was ripped in half, his skin shredded by the claws of a particularly large and scarred beastkin.


    Markus watched it all.


    And as the last of his scouts streamed past him a moment later, his heart was heavy with their deaths, but he knew it was the right call. A few die, so many live¡­


    "Head to the southeast, back to the Triad!" Markus shouted and sent out, "Our only chance is to slip past the lines!" His plan was smashed to dust when he saw the thousands of beastkin making their way towards them.


    With a mental surge of effort, Markus smashed the two tendrils on opposite sides of the bridge down onto it.


    There was a brief moment when a large portion of the psy he was controlling was sucked away, making him gasp in shock. Then the tendrils smashed the stone bridge like it was nothing more than a tree.


    Actually, it was easier than that. It was like he was pushing over a collection of loosely stacked rocks.


    A fierce smile of vengeance flashed onto Markus''s face as the bridge collapsed, and the charging beastkin fell into the river mixing with the rubble and creating larges splashes of water.


    The splashes were loud, but they could not drown out the screams of fear tearing their way from the beastkin''s throats.


    It did not make up for the deaths of his people, but it was something.


    Turning away, Markus signaled the scouts to follow in the wake of their fellows, acting as a rear guard.

 Chapter 42

    Excerpt From The Legion''s Scholarly Manual On Casting¡ª


    The debate has raged in scholarly circles since the founding of the Olimpian Academy. And I do not see the argument ending with any degree of finality within my or my grandchildren''s lifetimes.


    Does Control have the right to be considered a discipline?


    It is a simple question, and if you read further into this text, you will develop your own opinion on the topic.


    The core of the argument is simple. Control is the foundation of all mental castings, and neither of the other branches can have a single step taken in them without progressing further into the branch of Control.


    Some of the more complicated castings require a foundational understanding of all three branches.


    The Control branch itself has the first tier focusing on either the Telekinetic or Telepathic Branches, depending on the individual, and the second tier mainly focuses on telepathic perception, with hints of the Telekinetic Branch. Both tiers, however, are interconnected with the other two, like some kind of melding of the branches.


    While this isn''t wholly accurate, it is a fact that a perception sphere can pick up physical objects without a mind, and we use strands as both telepathic and telekinetic appendages at will.


    If there was actually an attainable third tier to Control ¡ª and not just the superstitious oral stories of the elves ¡ª the argument might end. But without such a clear-cut reality, we all must come to our own conclusions.


    Some even say that Control is a hybrid of the two main branches, offering a higher order of power if followed to its end.


    I, for one, have settled my mind on a reasonable answer to the question. The Control Branch exists for the simple purpose of organization of skill levels. It offers a simple and easy path to identify the skill level of our fellow casters.


    **********


    "Pick up the pace and move closer to the core. You''re getting a little far out," Markus sent to those acting as rearguards. "Report." He ordered to the northern side of their formation. There was too much going on for him to shuffle through the sensations of those on that flank.


    "The beastkin are already circling around us. We could punch through, but¡­" She left the rest unsaid as something called for her attention. She didn''t need to say it; where would we go?


    Half of us are malnourished, and the others are injured or exhausted.


    Markus hadn''t expected to exit the bridge and find themselves walking into the unwelcoming arms of an approaching army. At worst, he expected a couple of hours before the beastkin could look for them on this side of the river in large enough numbers to matter.


    But reality turned out to be very different. The legionaries hardly had a moment from walking off the bridge that they weren''t being harassed.


    Markus used every trick he knew to throw off the beastkin and break threw the line while dissuading pursuit. Traps were set in their wake. The tracks of the fish were covered. Smaller groups were sent out into the forest, making false trails in their wake, while the main group heightened their efforts to conceal their passage.


    None of it worked.


    The thought crossed his mind to scatter the force and hope someone would make it back to a legion, but the beastkin had already proven they were more than capable of finding and capturing them. Finding and killing would only make it easier. The fish won''t even have a chance¡­


    Every time the thought crossed his mind, the order stuck in his throat. But with every moment that passed, making them a step closer to being trapped, the burden of duty was making the order easier to voice.


    Not that the probable result had stopped him from already making a similar order, as Markus had already sent five scouts into the forest to make their way back alone. Hopefully, they would live, but he had little faith.


    Reports of contacts with beastkin continually filled Markus''s mind. They came from all but one side, and that was because they had their right side to the river. There were still some reports of beastkin across the river, but they were unimportant.


    At first, he tried to move the group away from the river and into the forest but quickly decided against it when the attacks started. The beastkin were moving faster than them in the overgrown forest, and their only chance was to make a run for it on the mostly clear banks of the river. Never thought I would be thankful for the nearly seasonal floods. Markus thought in wry amusement.


    For the last hour, they had been moving as quickly as they could through the trees no more than a dozen yards from the river.


    There was no way they were making it out of this, not while fighting. I wonder if it''s possible to negotiate. Not with the wolves, but the Red Tail Faction? If they are truly opposed to the spell Scout Green was in, they might¡­ Or, more likely, kill us to cover up the fact it exists. He thought with stern certainty. Internal politics did not mean they would suddenly betray their kin.


    "But at least they have proven to be a bit more¡­ open-minded. At least they talk to us." Markus muttered to himself. Some of the fish looked at him with faith and hope as he spoke, prompting him to finally make up his mind.


    Their looks had kept him searching for an answer this long, but all he was doing was delaying the inevitable. "Gather up! We are going to punch through and¡ª


    "Centurion," interrupted a horse voice. Looking over, Markus saw it was Sathera. It was surprising. He could feel her understanding of the decision he had reached through the mental link, but he also felt her conviction.


    Her face was covered in streaks of sweat and grim, and on her back was Green, who she and the other trainee had traded off carrying him since the bridge.


    Though her face was practically hidden under a mask, he could tell she was young, no more than twenty-five. Every citizen was required to serve, the age it starts varying from fifteen to twenty, but no one escaped their decade. Many tried to run, saying it was unjust that they waited a decade of their lives, but what was a decade to an average life span of a hundred and fifty years.


    If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    She must have been one of the ones to sign up as early as possible, and then she got into the scouts. She has skill. And spirit, Markus thought in admiration as she met his look. There was a fire burning in her eyes.


    Chest heaving to catch her next breath, her hand was steady as she pointed to the river. "Make a raft." She gasped out.


    Markus''s face was blank for a moment, then a half-crazed smile spread over his face as she sent him her idea, ¡°¡­Yes!" He shouted in excitement.


    Boats traveling on the rush this far north was not something people did. There was just nothing up here. And when the snow melted, the river was impassible with the torrent of water.


    Every year down south on the river, sailors complained of their damaged boats or being trapped for a few weeks at isolated villages. But past The Triad? Never saw a soul on the Rush.


    There were a few river merchants that worked the Forks, but they were strange folk up there. Sailing down the Rush? Never crossed Markus''s mind.


    "Squads two through four, start chopping down trees, trimming them, and moving them to the shore!" Markus barked out, causing the area to burst into motion before he sent, "Perimeter squads, keep them away for as long as you can but pull back when pressed!"


    He waited a moment before shouting, "The rest of you are on me! We''re going to lay the trees out!"


    Before, the few scouts leading the fish had a sunken, resigned look in their eyes. They knew death was coming. But now, they had a real chance and were filled with purpose.


    Within moments, the sounds of impacts and saws against wood could be heard. Forming a tendril into teeth small enough to be called a saw and working it through a trunk might be difficult for most, but forming a wedge and smacking it into a tree hard enough to shatter rocks was not.


    All around him, Markus saw chips of wood fly into the air as the legionaries worked their castings.


    It wasn''t long until the first cracks and pops of a tree falling sounded, followed by screams of fear and shouts of anger.


    "Ahh! Fuck!"


    "Watch what you''re doing, fucking idiots!"


    "By the elementals, at least guide the crow-begotten tree!"


    "Don''t fucking chop into one side! You need a fucking wedge to guide it and a back cut! By the Elementals, does anyone even know what in the damnation they''re doing?!"


    The last voice that sounded Markus recognized as Kimel. She was a hard woman who liked spending her time in the forest more than at camp.


    "Timber!" Shouted an enthusiastic male voice.


    "Out of the way!" Shouted Kimel, "Move to the fucking sides!"


    Markus looked over at the sounds of more screams and cracks of branches smacking into each other.


    "Who was the fucking idiot that dropped that on us! I''m gonna do a favor to Olimpia by castrating you! We can even make a game out of it. I''ll grab your legs and pull them to the sides until we find out which side your balls end up on. Heh, we can still call it a fucking wishing bone; if you got anything down there worth mentioning!"


    As she talked, the youthful face of a man in his early twenties drained of color, becoming ashen. His eyes flicked to others for support, but Kimel wasn''t the only one almost crushed by the falling tree. All he found were angry or indifferent faces.


    "Kimel," Markus sent, "Show them how to cut down a tree safely but make it fast. We don''t have much time." Kimel paused for a moment, making the young scout sweat for a few more seconds before turning to Markus and saluting her fist to chest.


    "Gather around, morons. I don''t know how you joined the legions without learning this," Kimel shouted, "but this is how you chop down a tree!" At her words, rapid chopping sounds could be heard for half a minute before the sound stopped. "Once you have the wedge angled where you want the tree to go, you start on the back while pushing with a strand until it falls. Make sure to¡ª"


    Markus stopped listening to Kimel talk as he had more important things to do.


    "Twenty coming in from behind!" Came a man''s mental voice along the Union link.


    "Ten from downstream," A female Sent.


    "Two groups of twenty from the north," Came a third voice with traces of fear suffusing the message.


    Markus took in the rapid-fire reports, overlaying the information on the mental map he had made of the area. The front and back of the formation had a mile separating them, with the northern flank a third of a mile inland from the river.


    "First squad stall the advancing beastkin and fall back. Sixth and eighth squads move to support the seventh squad as they delay and pull back. Ninth squad, perform a controlled retreat to us." Each sentence that Markus sent to his people was only delivered to those he was addressing. While a commander could never have too much information so long as it didn''t cause indecision, the troops didn''t need a distraction from an overall battle plan. And all its risks.


    "Keep me up to date." Markus sent to everyone.


    Seconds passed into minutes, and what felt like every few seconds ¡ª but he knew he was longer ¡ª he felt a pang as a mind was torn from the Union. In the back of his mind, he added another mark to the death toll as their chances of escape lessened.


    Shouts filled the trees around Markus as fish and those from the 1st turma bit out chunks from the trunks of the trees.


    As time passed, they all could feel the growing pressure to hurry as the perimeter of scouts slowly compressed, supporting each other as they retreated.


    The workers'' movements became frantic as they knew time was running out, causing those commanding them to shout at them to get their heads out of their asses and think. Rushed as they were, every thirty seconds, another one of the two to three-foot-in-diameter trees fell to the ground and was swarmed over like a colony of ants.


    Finally, the outer perimeter had no more room to retreat, only a dozen paces beyond the workers.


    A rush of three dozen beastkin came storming out from the depths of the forest at the exact moment uncertainty filled the mental network. "Charge!" Shouted Markus, leading the scouts into battle. Using a tendril on his bar, he swept it out around him and slammed it into the legs of the leading beastkins, knocking them off their feet. He did not stop his stride to finish them off, leaving them for the fifty scouts and fish coming in his wake to handle.


    Screams of rage and those wrought from savage wounds filled the afternoon forest. Bodies mingled, dancing in the oldest struggle in existence, that of bloody conflict.


    One moment literally bled into the next as Markus surged along the battle line, supporting all he could reach with his gore-stained rod. But try as he might, he could not save all his men. Their lack of equipment and fatigue were too much of a burden for them to come out of this battle without losses.


    After the initial rush, the beastkin quickly realized they were outnumbered and quickly falling. A howl echoed off the trees, and the beastkin fell back like a receding wave.


    Doing a quick check, Markus counted another thirteen dead, putting the total cost to hold this ground at twenty-three. But finally, the rafts were ready.


    And though Markus hated to admit it, the dead helped them more than the living, as they decreased the number of rafts they needed to build.


    Constant reports of spotting more beastkin flooded into Markus''s mind, but it no longer mattered.


    "Let''s go!" Markus shouted and sent to his legionaries.


    Bodies turned and rushed towards the logs laid next to and on top of each other.


    "Pound in those bars!" Markus heard someone shout as he raced over the leaf-strewn forest floor.


    Markus leaped off the bank, passing the last tree and dropping to the river''s beach a few feet below.


    Sand flew up behind him as he ran with those who had held the perimeter.


    He watched as the bars they took from the cages were pounded through the tree trunks piercing multiple logs holding them together.


    Markus paused on his last stride before moving onto the raft, searching the darkness of the forest. He thought he could see the flickering forms of beastkin among the trees. Sending out a pulse, he made sure no one was left out there. Not that it would matter, they couldn''t save anyone now. Maybe not even themselves.


    Turning, Markus stepped onto the raft as those already on it pushed and pulled it out into the wide river.

 Chapter 43

    Excerpt From The Legion''s Scholarly Manual On Casting¡ª


    With the foundation of a standardized level of determining skill, we can judge when people are able to move to the next tier in the disciplines, though there will always be exceptions.


    When a child solidifies their psy into a tendril, they are acknowledged as being at the first tier of all disciplines. This is due to our inherent natures.


    It takes little to no training for an individual to shift their psy to be a tendril of force or mind when they are forming it. Though a telepathic tendril can do little more than impart intent and emotions to others, while a telekinetic tendril can pick up and throw rocks. Children being what they are, you can imagine what most focus on.


    While few, if any, can shift the aspect once it is extended, the initial choice when psy is exuded is instinctual. This is not to say that all have an equal aptitude in the disciplines, only that everyone is capable of the basic level of each domain.


    Once the initial manifestation of one''s psy has happened ¡ª at whatever age that is accomplished ¡ª one must practice extending and manipulating strands simultaneously in unique ways if they wish to progress.


    Two tendrils is the level most achieved, as two is the legion''s minimum standard. That is not to say the legion will kill you if you don''t achieve it, but if you don''t, the odds of your death increase significantly once combat starts.


    The reason two strands will remain the minimum is simple. When in the legions, every legionary must join the Union while battle is joined. And an individual''s ability to also enhance their shield, sword, or harness, as the occasion calls, is life-preserving.


    Sadly, creating two strands is not a standard all can meet ¡ª either due to laziness or ineptitude ¡ª and they pay with their lives in the end.


    **********


    "Faster!" Markus shouted while he was crouched down, one hand pressing against a log, "We need a burst of speed!"


    A large plunk sounded to his left, and he felt a slight rocking of the logs under him a moment later and felt a splattering of cold water on his body.


    Movement catching his eye to the right, his head whipped in that direction, searching for danger.


    A spray of water struck his face, blinding him for a moment. Used to it by now, his free hand quickly swiped over his eyes to clear his vision. All the while, the tips of his fingers never lifted from the log. He had learned better.


    "Ahh!" Markus shouted, repositioning his psy shield in front of him before the droplets of water could hit the river.


    The latest ball of deep amber fire broke against the shield. Stifling a grunt at the mental pang of having a tiny portion of his psy ripped away at the impact, he reinforced his shield. The cohesion of the fire might have been broken, but it still continued forward, rolling along the shield''s invisible width until it reached the edges. Once it did, fingers of fire licked over the shield''s sides, reaching toward Markus like a many-fingered hand. After a moment, Markus could feel his soaked clothes starting to steam as the heat beat against his body.


    And that was the result of only a fraction of the fireball which made it around the shield.


    If the ball actually hit him in the chest, it would burn through his flesh without even being phased... A shiver ran down Markus''s spine at the thought. Pushing past the instinct to look away from the intense heat, Markus kept his face forward, eyes unblinking, despite the uncomfortable reminder of placing his head next to his father''s forge as a child to see what was inside.


    When the bloom of fire started dissipating, it formed a gray smoke. His body tensed as he strained his eyes harder than before, keeping the shield in place.


    Markus glared into the smoke, willing it to dissipate faster, his resolve unwavering. Eyes widening in alarm, Markus moved the shield to his right, blocking a boulder.


    Before the rock could rebound off his shield more than an inch, a frantic message pinged his mind. I''m gonna make it, Markus thought, his mind unwilling to accept the tiniest sliver of doubt as he forced his shield to the opposite side of the raft, angling the top away from him.


    Still moving the shield into place, a second chest-sized rock clipped the bottom left corner of the shield. But with the shield angled, the projectile plowed into the water, throwing up a wave of water onto the raft''s occupants and resoaking his partially dried leathers.


    The wave rocked the raft, but Markus rode through it in his three-point stance, as did the others who were up off of their stomachs.


    If Markus could get away with guarding the raft sitting on his ass, he would. But you didn''t get the best view of the shoreline ¡ª and, more importantly, the beastkin working their spells on the shoreline ¡ª while sitting on and occasionally just under the surface of the icy river. And this way, he was marginally warmer than those poor soaked saps shivering while clinging to the logs.


    All things considered, the raft was working great. It was mostly floating and had yet to be struck by a boulder, a feat not all the other rafts could boast of. Over the hours and hundreds of boulders the beastkin had thrown, two connected with separate rafts.


    Luckily, one of the strikes resulted in a half dozen people being maimed and a few more falling into the river. The other raft broke up, throwing everyone into The Rush''s cold embrace.


    A few lived as they made it to another raft, but the rest were picked off by the beastkin while swimming to safety or succumbed to The Rush''s cold embrace.


    The latest rock-made wave was a little too close for comfort, as the raft gave off some concerning creeks and groans, but it should be fine¡­ It will be fine. We are going to make it.


    Their trip down the river was¡­ lively, to say the least.


    Markus quickly broke up their mental network into groups containing their individual rafts. It was only logical.


    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.


    Over the last couple of hours, the distance between the rafts stretched out over a mile. And stringing more than the tiniest of psy strands between all of them was impractical.


    The loss of psy to transfer it along the strands between them would be too great to justify the act. Well, if I was the type of leader to suck all of my troops dry to save my own skin¡­ Markus thought to himself, his face twisting into a sour look.


    Markus hated to admit it, but he knew plenty of tribunes in the 15th Legion that would do such a thing. They weren''t on the front lines, which would either have those types beaten into shape or positioned to have an accident.


    Many would, but Markus wouldn''t. Never.


    He gave the information they had to relay, if any of them lived, then wished them all luck before cutting the connection.


    Now it was up to the individuals that happened to be on each raft if they were going to survive.


    Markus felt another jab of pain lodge in his heart as he looked back. It wasn''t fair, but life never was. So often, fate and luck determine one''s life.


    Because Markus himself was on this raft, along with Celeste, Sathera, and Gruth, they would probably make it. Celeste and Gruth were some of the strongest scouts, and Sathera wasn''t far behind, even if she wasn''t well-trained.


    The result was that if any of the rafts and the reserves of psy to make it, it was theirs.


    As the most senior and those with the most experience and control, Gruth, Markus, and Celeste were using all of their psy. Gruth was pulling them forward while Markus and Celeste shielded the sides of the raft.


    Silently, Markus stayed in his crouch even while the raft was undisturbed, his head never wavering or dipping. His eyes constantly slid along the shoreline, looking for any flashes of lights or spots of motion.


    Being the first raft, by a large margin, one would think that they would be left alone.


    After all, the beastkin had to run along the shoreline. The water might not appear to be moving all that fast, but being in the center of the river and Gruth giving them a constant pull forward with a psy strand, they were moving along at a fast run. And that wasn''t even counting the occasional burst of speed from Gruth when they needed to dodge a particularly large boulder.


    It wasn''t all that great, but it was pretty good, considering what they were riding. Faster than Markus could manage running through an old-growth forest, at least.


    "Boulder!" shouted a woman sending a mental picture through the link. Starting to move, Markus suddenly froze the shield.


    "Fireball!" A male shouted a moment after the woman, also sending a mental pulse.


    Markus went with his gut feeling, moving the shield towards the fireball, causing it to brake over his shield sending out a wave of heat.


    As he was turned away, a deep plop sounded as the boulder fell into the river short of the raft. He could feel the sprinkling of water as droplets fell onto his shoulders and head.


    While not all of the beastkin could cast their¡­ spells, all of them could pick up large rocks and chuck them a startling distance. A stunning distance, really.


    As of now, the river banks were hundreds of yards away, placing this in a particularly narrow section of the river. Because of that, the splash of rocks hitting the water all around them was constant. There were, after all, hundreds of beastkin lining the sides of the river. And a half dozen of the robed kind that could cast spells.


    Which was unfortunate as it made the beastkin more accurate.


    Slightly more accurate doesn''t mean much at this distance, but if they threw enough boulders, eventually, they were bound to hit something. It was just a matter of attrition and who would last the longest.


    Them throwing the rocks this far was impressive, to say the least. And it was astonishing the beastkin were attacking them so much and not the easier targets behind them, but at least Markus was helping the others in some small way¡­


    ¡°Spike¡ª" Shouted someone in fear behind Markus before cutting off, "Ahhh! My fucking leg." The man screamed out a moment later.


    "Kawrashit! Crows take these animals fucking bastard!" Celeste shouted in frustration and growing fatigue. Her words were followed by a thump of an impact.


    Markus could feel it in her words, radiating off her and into the Union. She was tired. They all were.


    "Suck it up," Markus said, "they can''t be much better off! The pricks have to run after us while throwing attacks. All we have to do is sit on our asses and watch the forest go by, so stop complaining!"


    "Sorry to ruin the pleasant trip with my screams and bad attitude," said the man with a foot-long inch-thick stone spike in his leg through his tight throat. "Pretty inconsiderate of me, I must say."


    Markus nodded in agreement while sending out the feeling, blocking another rock with the shield, "I''d tell you to walk off such an injury, but I just don''t feel like going to shore to drop you off at the moment. I''m in a rush and don''t wanna waste time."


    "That''s what happens to everyone that becomes a centurion. Ya''ll suddenly get a stick up the collective ass and never seem to want to spend the time to slow down and smell flowers while resting under a tree¡­" The man muttered to ''himself'' but loud enough for everyone to hear.


    Snickers sounded at his words, and Markus took a moment to look over his shoulder, giving the man a flat stare, "What did you say, scout?"


    "Nothing, Centurion! I was just talking to the nail in my leg."


    ¡°Spike.¡± A woman corrected, "Already lost too much blood from that small booboo?"


    "If I can''t lift my leg because it is nailed to the log, I feel confident calling it a fucking nail." The man replied. "Not that you would know much about something nailing you."


    "Ahh, fuck you!" Snapped back the woman.


    "You wish."


    Everyone ¡ª even the woman Tirre was talking to ¡ª chuckled at his words. Even Markus had to repress a smile. It wasn''t that funny, but it was better to laugh at Tirre''s joke than watch him bleed to death.


    He might live. Someone was carefully trying to free his leg and ripping off a piece of clothing for a tourniquet. But an open wound and water weren''t a good combination.


    Settling his mind, Markus focused on his job, falling into a haze. All that mattered was blocking the next projectile. Searching the shoreline.


    His screaming body and increasingly fuzzy mind were mere distractions. Inconsequential ones he ignored.


    Hours passed, and the sun fell lower, getting closer and closer to the horizon. And with the passing time, exhaustion began to take its toll.


    Try as they might, more attacks slipped through. Markus and Celeste just could not stop them all.


    With the attacks came injuries. And deaths. While none of them were the strongest pay users, three people out of sixteen were significant when every drop of psy mattered. And thirteen is an unlucky number.


    More than anything else, very injury and death increased the strain on the rest of them. But Markus would not give in. His will was unshakable, as he knew his goal, and he would make it.


    He stayed in his crouch, bloodshot eyes on the shoreline, looking. Always looking.


    His shield shrunk, becoming little more than a foot in diameter, but still, he blocked attack after attack.


    It might have been gradual, but the frequency of the attacks slowed the beastkin were actually tiring. They never stopped, but it gave Markus some much-needed room to breathe.


    That, and the river widening, making the distance to the shorelines more than half a mile. Even the beastkin had problems with that.


    Finally, after the longest afternoon in his life, the sun sunk below the horizon, and Markus dropped onto the raft in exhaustion with the darkness.


    "Stay low," Markus whispered, "They might be able to somewhat see in the dark, but not at this distance. Not without us making it¡­ obvious~.¡±


    Giving his last order, Markus fell into an exhausted sleep.

 Chapter 44

    Excerpt From The Legion''s Scholarly Manual On Casting¡ª


    Though two is the minimum ¡ª all must strive to meet if they desire to live ¡ª of the legion, it is by no means a significant point by any other metric.


    Many scholars argue that when one achieves the ability to control three tendrils, one should advance to the second tier of the disciplines. While this is the case for some, and those who advocate for this point can always find the exceptions, it is not the truth for all or even most.


    I understand why they would hold such a stance. Three is, after all, a near constant in most respects of casting and is looked at as an almost sacred number. But in this case, the evidence does not support the claim.


    For the second tier of the Telepathy Discipline, one will have the basic level of skill required for the casting technique at three strands.


    At such a level, they will be able to reach out and brush another''s mind for surface emotions and even project their thought to have a conversation.


    But it is only when they can control four strands they may enact a Union of Will, forming a mental network. However, once the link is established, even those with lesser skills may utilize it fully.


    As for the second Telekinesis tier, it is only once a person can solidly control four strands that one can spread their psy consistency throughout the body, enhancing its physical capabilities and durability manyfold. The most accomplished of such practitioners can overshadow the beastkin''s physical capabilities as they do the average citizen.


    While most say that the sphere of perception in the Control Discipline only takes three strands, that is only for those with actual power, such as the City Lords and their descendants.


    This is a fact, as I know many who can control five or even six strands and can not hold a sphere for the briefest of moments.


    **********


    Kathren jerked up, whipping her hand holding the knife at the figure looming over her.


    "Whoo!" Cried out the figure stumbling back, holding up their arms, and falling to the ground.


    Kathren started to move off her bed and continue to pursue her attacker, but she stopped halfway to her feet. Blinking in confusion, the fog clouding her mind started to clear.


    Eyes focusing for the first time, she looked at the man scooting away from her on the ground.


    "And that''s why we wake up Kathren by throwing rocks at her." Said a voice filled with amusement in a knowing tone. The voice could not hide the stifled chuckles, though.


    Looking over, Kathren saw Anooha standing in the doorway, bouncing a handful of pebbles on her palm. Seeing Kathren''s scowl, all she did was smile wider, then carefully bend down and place the stones next to Kathren''s door, giving them a small pat.


    Frown deepening as her eyes squinted, Kathren looked down at her bed knife clutched in her fist.


    Finishing her movement to get up, Kathren tossed her knife onto her blankets before moving towards Jim, still sitting on the ground with wide eyes.


    "Move," Kathren grunted, fulfilling her morning speech quota.


    Jim looked up at her, more than a bit of white showing at the edges of his eyes. She knew he didn''t understand, so she grunted and motioned to her piled equipment that he had unknowingly scooted next too.


    "Ahh," Jim eloquently said, scrambling to his feet and moving to exit her room.


    Kathren ignored him as she bent down to grab her shit. The dirt caked into her skin reminded her of her days living on the streets. She could feel the grit settling deeper with every sluggish, reluctant movement.


    But, though she never had been called ¡ª and never would be ¡ª a cursed ''morning person,'' a shudder running through her at the very thought, a decade in the legion had taught her at least a few lessons.


    Mainly, she learned that when anyone who knew her actually tried to get her up, facing the threat of her bed knife, there would be a fight soon. Or something important was happening that required her to be there. Basically, she needed to get kitted now.


    From the look on Anooha''s face and the uneasy shifting from everyone else, it was the former.


    The hardest part of any fight was the wait for it to start, and no one ever really got used to the building tension, only how to hide it better. And the signs were as blatant as the noonday sun on all of them for those who knew what to look for.


    Slipping into her cuirass and tightening the buckles and straps, she looked to Anooha and raised an eyebrow.


    Answering the unanswered question of why she was woken up, Anooha started talking, "Beastkin warbands appeared outside the northern and Western Forts half an hour ago. They look to be lining up for an assault on the walls within the next hour or two. They have ladders, battering rams, and are quickly constructing several siege towers¡­ Honestly, I''ve never seen the equipment constructed so fast." A grim look passed behind her eyes. Anooha did not have much, if any, more experience than Kathren, but they both knew the horror of battle was coming.


    Giving a shake of her head, Anooha focused on Kathren again, "We are being positioned on the Middle Fort in the center of the Triad''s bridges." Giving a feigned indifferent shrug, she said, "Might be some of the fiercest fightings with those barges and towers¡­ Should be a good time, right!" She tried to make her voice excited but fell short. Coughing, she continued, "And if The Triad falls, we are supposed to report to the senate with a full account of the battle."


    Kathren only nodded her head. It was to be expected. They were scouts. The only way to become one was by fulfilling your first decade of compulsory service.


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    Everyone from the highest noble to the lowest orphaned street rat serves in the legion. After that, everyone may choose to leave the legion, but if they stay, the legionaries are considered veterans.


    Scouts are the veterans that are particularly skilled in being stealthy. Not having them in a position to fight would be stupid. Putting them into a new century and disrupting it would be idiotic.


    Placing them in a critical but relatively small section of the battle where they could leave to report on the events of the battle made sense.


    Adjusting her bracers, she slung on her belt and then her cloak. Turning to Anooha, she grunted, "Ready."


    The other woman only nodded before turning and walking away, the three others of her squad trailing behind.


    Rolling her shoulder, Kathren''s hands quickly tapped over the spikes strapped to the leather strap crossing her chest. Then to the three knives and short sword scattered over her person.


    Stepping out of her room, she saw Joxin give her a half smile and wave from where he was leaning on the wall. Jim was beside him, half trying to hind behind Joxin, giving her sidelong glances.


    Kathren only snorted, saying, "Come on," while tilting her head after Anooha.


    Without waiting for them, Kathren started walking, hearing their quick footsteps until they stopped, an arm spanes behind her.


    "Here," Joxin said, causing her to turn and look at him while continuing to walk. He was holding out a shield. One similar to the ones all of the rest of them carried on their backs or arm.


    She noticed it earlier, but maybe she just didn''t want to acknowledge it.


    Slowly, she reached out with a nod of thanks, sliding her arm into its straps.


    When they stepped out into the cool night air, she looked up for a moment, seeing that the stars and moon were covered by clouds. "That''s not a good sign¡­" She muttered to herself before turning and following behind the other ground of trainee scouts.


    The seven walked through the Western Fort. The walls echoed with distant footsteps marching in tandem and shouts.


    Kathren''s eyes tracked three centuries marching past them, heading towards the stairs leading up to the top of the outer walls. The century first had faces sent into blank masks as their bodies were loose. Some even managed to crack a joke or two with each other.


    Trailing behind the first century, like they didn''t belong there and didn''t know what they were doing, were the fresh-faced fish. The youths¡­ well, by the end of the night, they wouldn''t be youths anymore. You can''t see the deaths of hundreds and still be called a child.


    The legionaries looked lost and worried they weren''t ready. At least they know the truth¡­


    As they made their way through the fort along the main roads, something was bothering Kathren. It was the troops they were passing, and she wasn''t talking about the fish centuries. It was most of the others.


    They almost looked like¡­ "The militia?" Kathren asked more to herself than anyone else.


    "Yep," one of the men followed behind Anhooa turned and answered her question with a bright smile. If she was less tired, or the time between her waking was farther away, she might have called him cute. Bordering on handsome. Now she just wanted to smack him for looking so chipper at a god-awful hour. "The night before you arrived, we heard rumors they might be called up. After you returned, well, word spread fast of your report. And the call for the militia went out¡­¡±


    The man looked sheepish for a moment, then asked, "So, is it true?"


    "What did you hear?" Kathren asked.


    ¡°¡­That Instructor and the others were killed. That they were a distraction for you three to get back to report an army of tens of thousands¡­ That¡ª that the beastkin have¡­ boats?" His voice was uncertain at the end of his sentence, filled with trepidation.


    It was one thing for beastkin to suddenly have powers able to turn night into day. Them being able to build? To have a strategy to take the fort other than running at the walls until they overwhelm them with bodies was¡­ wrong.


    Like the foundation of their beliefs was just upset.


    She could tell by the tightening of their backs and half-turned heads the other three were listening as close as the one asking the question. What was his name again? He looks familiar¡­


    "Yes," she stated. "What''s your name anyway?"


    The man looked at Kathren in shocked confusion, his voice a mix between disbelieving and being hurt. "I''ve told you my name like¡­ three times."


    Kathren shrugged indifferently, "Huh, didn''t make an impression then." She was starting to regret asking.


    Anooha''s shoulders started to violently shake while the two others turned their heads away from Kathren, hunching over slightly.


    The man spluttered, his face shifted from indignation to incredulity, ¡°Wh¡ª I ca¡ª We had sex! How the fuck can''t you remember!" He finally shouted, his voice echoing around the street. When he noticed, his face flushed, and he looked away, but everyone on the street had already looked at him and were chuckling behind their hands or openly.


    "Sorry, Ritchor," said the man to the one she was talking to''s right, patting his shoulder in commiseration, but he could not hide his smirk.


    The other was still hunched over, laughing, as Anooha turned around, a smile touching her face. "Told you she didn''t remember. Plastered was an understatement for her that night." She said to Ritchor, wiping a tear from her eyes.


    Ritchor had a deep olive skin color with dark hair and brown eyes in the torchlight. Combined with his muscular body, she could see why she slept with him. Way to go drunk me. She thought, mentally patting herself on the back as they continued to walk.


    Their laughter lightened the atmosphere hanging over their group, making it a little easier to walk through the fort. It wasn''t much, and the overall feeling in the air pressed down on them again, but it pushed the dark thoughts back.


    Kathren''s eyes skimmed over the militia marching by her. Few had whole suits of armor, most missing a few pieces or had holes chewed into them. Some didn''t even have armor at all, having to make do with a tunic.


    And she didn''t see a single spear or sword in the groups without spots of rust on the blades.


    That was nothing to say about the fact most were middle-aged, and it showed that they hadn''t exercised regularly in¡­ decades? That has to be the minimum with those guts. Not like the Triad is known for its laborers.


    While all had experience in the legion, fighting skills ¡ª like steel ¡ª rusted without proper care. And fighting in a battle was not something to be rusty at. It was your life on the line.


    Century after century marched by their group in a rush as they walked up the sides of the Western Bridge of The Triad.


    Eyes flicking up the bridge, they landed on the gates of the Middle Fort. In truth, the fort was an oversized triangle at the intersection of the three bridges of the Triad. The walls extended twenty feet out to the sides of the twenty-five-foot wide bridges that were lit every twenty feet by a sunstone placed on a ten-foot pedestal on both sides of the bridge. Each point of the triangle had a fifty-foot tower with arrow slits lining them. The few times a hoard had overrun the walls of one of the forts, they had never taken the Middle Fort. No way to fill up the river a hundred-plus feet blow with bodies after all.


    Shifting her eyes, she looked at those exiting the gates of the Middle Fort. Every single face they passed was bloodless, their eyes filled with fear as their centurions barked at them to keep marching. The look in their eyes was like they had thought they had woken up from a nightmare long ago but suddenly realized they were in one again.


    Turning around to see what they were staring at, Kathren felt the blood drain from her face. The weak light of the moon had broken through the clouds and partially lit up the field before the walls.


    Out in the distance, she spotted rank after rank of yellow dots and shadowy forms. Then a bolt of lightning tore across the clouds, lighting up the night with its azure brilliance.


    And the beastkin who silently stood in rows vanishing into the darkness of the grasslands.


    When Kathren finally heard the crack of thunder, the veil of darkness dropped over the world once more. But she still knew the monsters were out there¡­

 Chapter 45

    Excerpt From The Legion''s Scholarly Manual On Casting¡ª


    When you come to the last tier of casting abilities, the real differences between the skill level of the disciplines occur. And once these levels are achieved, a title is applied, signifying their achievement and dedication to casting.


    For telepathy, the standard requirement jumps up to seven strands compared to the four for the last tier, and some say that it is as much as eight strands to go to the limits of the techniques.


    When someone arrives at this tier in the telepathic discipline, it is one of the most controversial occasions in Olimpia. And I, humble scholar I am, would suggest that no one without the proper backing attempt to reach such a level.


    Once reaching the third tier of telepathy, one becomes a Mind Reaver. They move beyond talking to others and looking at recent memories. Consent is no longer required, and few can resist when they delve into a mind a rip apart their whole life.


    The actual limits of the tier are a closely guarded secret of the families who train Mind Reavers and, thus, the Inquisitors who work for the senate.


    What is known is that a Reaver can plum the depths of one''s mind at will and even impart hallucinations that are as real as reality itself. No past thought is safe, and some say that a Reaver can lock another in their own mind, forcing them to follow a set of commands.


    Of course, these are common speculations on the topic, and no absolute truth on the subject is known to this scholar.


    **********


    Midnight had passed hours ago, the moon long since moving from the center of the sky, or so Kathren assumed. She hadn''t seen the dim light of the moon in hours.


    The clouds overhead had only thickened, causing a glimpse of the elusive moon few and far between, though lightning forked across the sky occasionally.


    Kathren felt like weights were hanging on her eyes. Her entire body was stiff, and she would fall asleep instantly if she laid down. With her years of training, wearing her full armor and clutching the hilt of her sword with one hand wasn''t a problem to falling asleep.


    She knew that for a fact, as throughout this night, she did just that two times as she took a power nap. Not that she grumbled about wearing her armor and sleeping.


    There was no doubt an attack was coming.


    She couldn''t think of another reason the beastkin would stand in silent rows outside the walls and rapidly build their siege equipment within the legionary''s line of sight. Gotta admit, though, it''s intimidating as fuck.


    And they were still there. Periodically, a Knight Ignis would release a blast of fire, lighting up the night and revealing the beastkin.


    Those manning the Western Fort could not know, but Kathren and those around her could see. There was another army of equal size outside of the Northern Fort.


    Faintly battering its way through the rush of water surging below the bridge, she could make out a steady beat of drums. The beat was so deep that she felt the sound more in her chest than her ears, and it resounded through the air for miles.


    The sound continually chipped away at her morale, adding to her exhaustion. It must be so much worse for those on the closer walls.


    The legion needed someone manning the walls to raise a warning for the impending attack, but it was idiotic to exhaust everyone while having them stand in position. Every hour or so, everyone manning the walls would be replaced.


    She could see it happening now down on the walls of the Western Fort. Sadly she wouldn''t be relieved soon, as she just came onto shift.


    It might be exhausting, mentally and physically, to look out from over The Triad at the attacking armies¡­ "But it''s better than being those bastards," Kathren muttered to herself, throwing a glance down at the figures lying on the Western Bridge.


    Feet to head, hundreds of men and women lay face up, looking at the sky as the cold stone seeped into their bodies. Every few minutes, she could see a wave run down the two rows lined the sides of the bridge as they kicked the shoulder of the individual below them.


    They couldn''t sleep. When their battle came, it would be there within an instant. There would be no time to wake up from a nap.


    "Poor souls," Anooha said, agreeing with Kathren''s statement breaking the silence that had existed since they took their latest shift. There was a pause after her words, and a heavy weight pressed down on the air between them. "You did your duty Kathren. Someone had to do it, and you were the best option."


    Kathren''s back stiffened, and her hand twitched towards a knife, but Anooha only placed a light hand on her shoulder and patted before her hand fell back to her side, and she looked away. Kathren didn''t lash out with violence like she might of.


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    Because Anooha''s words weren''t for her. At least not only for her. She was also talking to herself. Most of them had only known each other for a few weeks while they waited or traveled to start their training, but they had bonded.


    Hard not to when they fought together and saved each other''s lives. Even Instructor Green, who they had known for days, had earned her respect. He had saved Kathren''s life when the birds came swooping down on them on the training fields. Stood next to her shoulder to shoulder as they fought.


    But it wasn''t the first time she had lost comrades in battle. Won''t be the last, either. She had to admit, however, this time was different. Or it felt that way.


    Looking at her emotions wasn¡¯t¡­ something she did. Maybe it was her upbringing, as turning emotions into anger and lashing out was a good way to survive on the streets, after all. Nothing like a good offense for defense.


    But her shoulders were stiff, and her left hand was cramping from being clenched into a fist. And there might be some blood.


    ¡­I did my duty¡­ Kathren hesitantly said to herself mentally. Like she was tasting every word as she thought them.


    It was hardly anything, but her hand relaxed a little. And¡­ it was better.


    Grunting, she said, ¡°¡­Thanks¡­" eyeing Anooha from the corner of her eye without turning her head.


    Kathren saw the woman''s mouth twitch, ¡°Nopr¡ª


    "What''s that¡­" Joxin said from Kathren''s other side, cutting Anooha off. His tone immediately claimed her attention. Resigned resignation had that effect with their situation. ¡°¡­I think¡ª"


    He never finished, as all of their minds were probed with a mental link. Without hesitation, they accepted the link, joining the thousands of others already in the Union. Minutes passed, and thousands more joined until suddenly, no more joined.


    It was hardly a beat of the heart later when a voice spoke into their minds. "My legionaries, I ¡ª your Legatus ¡ª speak to you before battle is joined. I speak to you, so you understand the stakes we are fighting for. Whether you want to admit it, this beastkin hoard is unlike we ¡ª the Olimpians ¡ª have faced. The walls of the Triad and his generations of defenders have held back hoards numbering in the hundreds of thousands. Our forefathers held strong against all that came against us, and their expectations fall onto our shoulders to bear. And yet, these beastkin are not the savage, mindless creatures we have heard of all our lives. The supposed impossibility of our situation must be accepted as a fact. One look over are walls will show us that."


    The voice was calm and measured. Every transmitted word carried a weight of confidence and expectation behind it, cutting through and then suppressing the growing panic and fear Kathren could feel through the mental links. After he spoke, she could even feel her own wavering resolve solidifying.


    "This fight. Our fight, how we stand against this challenge, will be remembered for generations. I believe we are the vanguard of a new war, one that will push our republic to its limit. But whatever the future may hold, we will stand against a force unlike any we could imagine. And I have faith we will win. We will uphold the honor of The Triad and throw back our foes. I ask you to fight for the children we stand in front of. To fight for your shield mate¡­ And should you fall, make the bastards choke on your corpse! Listen to your commanders and Centurions, and we will win this fight! Long live The Republic!"


    "Long live The Republic!" Our collective shout ripped through the night, carrying our resolve to our enemies. And it almost seemed to Kathren like the clouds above were pushed back slightly, a ray of moonlight breaking through the oppressive cloud cover.


    As if the words of defiance shouted by the 15th legion and militia were the signals, the beat of the beastkin''s drums picked up.


    The siege towers and battering rams started rolling forward at a walking pace, but that was all. None of the gathered beastkin so much as moved a muscle to advance.


    Why would they? Huddled within and behind the dozens of siege equipment were a few dozen beastkin, but they were sheltered from attacks by the object''s mass. They didn''t even appear to be pushing the contraptions forward, only walking along behind them.


    One minute added onto the next, and before Kathren knew it, an hour had passed. She was being relieved from her position on the wall by someone tapping her in the middle of the back.


    With a start, she rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen them up. She didn''t realize how stiff she had become, watching the towers'' slow, implacable advance.


    Nothing had even happened yet, as the towers weren''t even halfway to the walls and still outside the effective attack range of the throwers.


    "Prepared to rotate!" Cracked a voice behind her and in her mind. A few seconds later, the voice spoke again, "Rotate!"


    With the voice, Kathren stepped diagonally back to the right, trying to keep her borrowed shield in the gap of the corrugated wall as long as possible. At the same time, the middle-aged man taking her place stepped into her spot at a diagonal, covering the area her shield left with his own as she pulled back.


    "Hold!" Shouted the centurion again, waiting to see if anyone had not rotated properly and needed to be assisted. "Relieved century, march!"


    Turning to her left, Kathren started to quickly march off the walls, only to be stopped as gasps of shock sounded all around her and filled the Union.


    When she looked at the distant grassland, as that was the only place that could hold the other''s attention, she didn''t see what had sent a wave of shock rolling through the legion. Not at first, but then, it became impossible to miss.


    It was like the Elemental of Earth decided to manifest before the walls of the Triad. The entire Western Fort seemed to leap for a moment, like a mountain had leapt into the air and fallen to the ground, shaking the land like the surface of a lake before settling.


    She could hear the distant clattering of stone and buildings collapsing from the ground quaking, but it was outside the walls that had her attention.


    A massive ramp of earth, spanning the entire length the siege towers were placed outside the walls, rose like a ramp.


    Everything seemed to freeze for a moment, then the beat of the distant drums beat out a rapid pattern three times before returning to their previous quick rhythm.


    At that, the siege equipment surged forward at several times the speed before, and the gathered mass of beastkin let out a collective roar of challenge. The beastkin crossed the distance to the walls in a fraction of the time of their equipment.


    "In the river!" Someone shouted a few dozen feet away from Kathren. "I see a boa¡ª" his cry of alarm cut into a gurgle of death.


    "March, you bastard spawns of whores!" Barked the centurion, snapping her into reality, "Get off my damn wall!"

 Chapter 46

    Excerpt From The Legion''s Scholarly Manual On Casting¡ª


    One of the most common misconceptions about the third tier of the telekinetic discipline is that anyone can jump to that level without progressing through the tiers properly.


    It is ¡ª I must admit ¡ª a belief I also held in my youth. This folk tale stems from the healers and their unique use of psy.


    While at least one healer exists in every city and most of the larger to mid-sized towns, they are far from common.


    Like most things in casting, intent matters above all. Due to the healers'' natural inclination to heal, they can instinctually aspect their psy. This allows them to inject psy into others without the recipient''s body rejecting it, where the healing psy will stimulate the regeneration of flesh.


    It might not be an element like fire, water, or earth, but the process of aspecting psy is still the same even if the results are far apart. There are even studies that show different healers'' psy are better for different types of wounds.


    The healers'' capability to access their natural ability to change their psy into healing energy at any level of skill leads others to the misguided belief that they, too, can do it.


    This is far from the truth. And it leaves those talented children ¡ª who can draw out an elemental aspect while controlling one or two strands ¡ª to pay a price they do not understand.


    Reaching the third tier of telekinesis, and becoming a Knight, puts a strain on the body.


    Our bodies are not, and never will be, designed to wield and hold the elemental powers of nature. There is always a price whenever one has the audacity to control the primal forces.


    **********


    It was as if the world had been ripped open. An unending crackling, tearing screech thundered its way through the sky. For a timeless stretch of time, the night had a line of blinding light, bringing the day to the world.


    Even after the light vanished, Kathren and all those around her were subjected to the sound for long seconds. Working her jaw, she wished she could rub her ears with her hand, as there was still a distant ringing in her ears that was not going away. It was a distraction she did not need at the moment.


    Despite the blinding light and deafening sound, Kathren''s shield never wavered.


    "Straighten out the line! Fill in those gaps!" Ordered a centurion somewhere from behind her. After a while, he sent a message again. "Prepare to move! Forward, step!"


    When the order came, Kathren acted in unison with the rest of the shield wall. Those on the front line of their formation stepped forward while thrusting out their shields, throwing the beastkin pounding on their shields into their compatriots.


    Beastkins on average were taller than Olimpians, usually by one to two feet, with all the extra mass that size entailed. But weight mattered for nothing against the will of the legion.


    Everyone on the front line had a psy tendril extended from their forearm strapped to their shield and spread the strand across the entire back of their shields.


    With that one action, the front line of the formation had two feet of space. The moment was brief, but Kathren enjoyed the fresh air. The putrid smell of rotting meat of the beastkin called breath was almost as wearing on her as blocking their clubs.


    Like they had practiced the motion a hundred times, Kathren and her shield mates stepped forward while spears stabbed over their shoulders into the chests and guts of the off-balance and vulnerable beastkin. While hurting your enemy was necessary, the spear thrusts were more for guaranteeing the beastkin couldn''t stop their advance.


    Planting their shields again, Kathren stabbed over her shield with a shout, sinking her sword''s tip into the shoulder of a snarling beastkin. The beastkin''s arm had dropped as he covered the weeping wound in his gut, leaving his upper body unprotected by his shield.


    As she attacked, she got a flash of his appearance. The beastkin had no inherently animalistic features like a muzzle, but his teeth were fanged and coated in crimson. His chest was bare with what looked like intricately pattered tattoos covering it.


    Letting out a whine of pain at her attack, the swing of his club at the woman to her right stopped cold. Not many want to swing an arm with an inch of steel in it.


    At her distraction, her shield mate sent out a short, savage slash, tearing out a chunk of the beastkins throat with a spray of blood.


    As the now body of a beastkin collapsed, a perfect gap in the beastkin''s line revealed itself to Kathren.


    The first thing she saw was a battle raging on the bottom quarter of the bridge. Legionaries were being pushed further down the bridge every second. It was only because of the stubborn bastards stationed on the bridge who managed to not be washed to the far side of the courtyard at the bridge''s base with the rest of their comrades that the beastkin hadn''t already taken the bridge.


    Even the century positioned in the square to charge up the bridge to support the two centuries laying on the bridge only had a fraction of their number still on their feet and ready to act.


    Not that all hope was lost, as a continuous stream of legionaries rushed through the square towards the bridge to help push the beastkin back, but it might be a too little too late situation.


    The plan, as Kathren knew it, had gone to shit within moments of the beastkin appearing.


    They had underestimated the beastkin spells and were now paying for it.


    Before the beastkins ever extended their stupidly long ladders from their absurdly tall towers built on a barge, arrows were claiming the lives of legionaries on the walls. And then the beastk¡ª I mean, the fucking tower is seventy feet at a minimum, and the five-foot wide ladder are over a hundred feet. I might be uneducated, but I ain''t stupid. How in forsaken Elementals is that even stable! Kathren grumbled to herself.


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    And then, before anyone could react, a fist, a literal fist made of water, lifted into the air.


    This wasn''t an ''Ohh~ look! Little Yarha formed a hollow tendril and lifted it over her head, soaking herself~'' fist of water.


    Nah, this was two fists of a hundred-foot giant hanging dozens of feet over the walls of the Middle Fort, then like an eel, the fists snaked forward, slamming into the closed gates of the fort.


    Spays of water filled the courtyard as the walls held firm, but the water was too much. The unlucky few standing next to the gates found that out firsthand as the water cut them in half before scoring the walls.


    No matter how strong the walls of the fort might be, they were no match for the combined weight of hundreds of tons of compressed water.


    There was no warning. From one moment to the next, the iron gates and the surrounding stone were ripped from their home of millennia.


    Kathren was standing on the wall watching the flood of water, and the strangest part was after the iron and stone were dislodged. The water guided the remnants of the western and northern gates, stacking them at the southern gate, blocking it.


    Then the tons of water from the fists splashed onto the bridges and fort, washing most of the legionaries able to hang onto the drains of the bridge out into the courtyard far below.


    Kathren had to admit, she kind of wished that she and the legionaries gathered at the base of the stairs hadn''t managed to stand firm against the raging water filling the fort. Sliding down the bridge would have been quite the ride.


    But the reality of the situation was grim. In one swoop, the beastkin had broken through the defenses and shattered the legion''s trap.


    Leaving her position with the huddled together legionaries, Kathren sloshed through the five inches of water covering the stone ground. In a matter of seconds, she arrived at where the western gate of the Middle Fort was once placed, only slightly impeded by the water.


    She arrived in time for what looked more like the trunk of a tree to slam into the railing of the bridge, bars of hooked metal falling forward over the stone ledge.


    Moments after the ''ladder'' appeared, pictures appeared in her mind of the barges below and the hundreds of beastkin swarming up the ladder.


    In the ruins of the gate, Kathren drew her sword planting her feet while covering all but her armored shins with her shield.


    She watched the first clawed, shockingly human hands grab into the stone ledge, pulling their bodies onto the wet stone.


    Without any hesitation, the beastkin''s head snapped toward Kathren. Before the beastkin could take more than two leaping steps toward her, three more of the creatures jumped onto the bridge behind him, charging after him.


    Kathren didn''t waver, her steely eyes showing no hint of fear, only resolve. "On me!" she shouted, sending out her impatience and an image of the charging beastkin.


    Even with the shock of the situation, and it only being seconds after the events, centurions and commanders were shouting for their legionaries to form up and move to the gaps in the walls. Her mental message put new urgency into their commands.


    But urgency mattered little when people were packed into piles into the fort''s corners. Some of which she could feel were in shock.


    Figuring out that mess took time. Time they didn''t have.


    Kathren knew others were quickly approaching, those like her, who had managed to remain standing at the edge of the group as the torrent of water smashed into them.


    But they wouldn''t make it in time, not for the first wave. While everyone in the fort with her was a veteran, that was all. The limited number of Knights in the 15th were being held in reserve or other strategic locations. Or so she assumed, as she hadn''t seen one all damn night. And without the physical capabilities of a Knight to arrive in time, she was on her own.


    When the beastkin took one more bounding leap, a leap that would cause him to slam his oversized club into her shield, she stepped forward.


    It was more than a step, though, as she pulled on her harness with a strand, causing her step to take her farther than any step should.


    Crouching down as she stepped, Kathren slid forward four feet while lifting her shield, blocking the hastily redirected swing of the beastkin. His shield was hopelessly out of the way as he held it over his head, blocking the arrows starting to rain down on him. In what looked almost lazy and half-hearted, she thrust upward.


    Shifting her strand from her harness to her sword, Kathren''s cold steel became like an implacable pillar. One still standing strong and alone after weathering decades out in the elements.


    The top six inches of the blade sank into the lower abdomen of the beastkin. As the momentum of the beastkin''s leap carried him forward, he gutted himself against her sword.


    In the next moment, the blade collided with his hip, and the beastkin''s body contorted as he spun around the unmovable blade, causing it to be torn out of his flesh. Repositioning her shield, Kathren caught the body ¡ª giving off groans of agony ¡ª dumping it to the side.


    Ignoring the too-soon-to-be corpse, she raised her stance while bringing her shield in front of her body once more.


    The three beastkin charging after the first stutter-stepped at her brutal display, but that was all. Their faces were set into one of rage, their eyes filled with the conviction of their cause.


    Still, Kathren stood unwavering. She was positive a line would form in the gap, as everyone had gotten their acts together, but it will be a few feet behind her current position. Just out of reach of the beastkin smashing her body into the cobbles of the bridge.


    She was not some legendary warrior able to fight alone against unending numbers. These three will kill her, but she would take¡­ two, maybe even all three, with her.


    Pulling the strand from her sword, she looped the tendril through a spike to throw it at one of the beastkin when a command to step back blasted into her mind.


    Following the command on impulse, she stepped back as a figure of a man encased in armor fell from the sky in the middle of the beastkin. Before Kathren could even blink in surprise, the figure blurred, and the three beastkin rushing toward her were bisected.


    Then the Knight, for that was all he could be, stomped on the ground, and a wave of light blue crackling arcs danced down the bridge and curled up the legs of the beastkin like a loving caress.


    Freezing mid-step, the beastkins'' bodies convulsed as they started to burn under the electricity''s heat.


    Two dozen of the bastard dead, killed in a second.


    Without warning, the Knight was flung into the sky, disappearing as fast as it had appeared.


    All Kathren could do was blink, taking in the fact that she was no longer going to die.


    In her shocked state, the rest of the legionaries arrived, forming a shield wall for the once again oncoming beastkin. They didn''t seem to care about the dozens that had already died.


    Then the real grind of the battle started.


    A constant struggle of bodies, blood flowing freely, coating the grooved stone and trickling around the bodies lining the bridge''s surface before making it to the gutters adding to the forming river. Both sides knew there would be no retreat from this battle. Only the victors and corpses of the defeated would remain.


    And then, Kathren was nearly blinded and deafened by a massive bolt of lightning.


    When she saw past the mass of bodies, shields, and weapons pressing against her shield, she saw what the lightning was aimed at. Of the two dozen siege towers, six had small fires burning on them that went out before her eyes.


    Only one had its top half shattered and was blazing with fire.


    Worse than that, it was apparent that the towers, less than half of the height of the walls before, now stood above the ramparts.


    "By the holy Elementals, the fucking bastards raised the ground halfway up the wall." Her voice was filled with horrified awe as she stated a fact. "How is that possible?"

 Chapter 47

    Excerpt From The Legion''s Scholarly Manual On Casting¡ª


    Scholars have studied the phenomenon for generations, and as best we can tell, a Knight''s abilities invites a backlash.


    When shifting their psy into their elemental aspect ¡ª and they can control more than one aspect ¡ª there is a brief moment where the aspected psy is within their bodies.


    It is not long, and those with a lot of practice or high levels of skill can decrease the time significantly, but the transition is impossible to avoid entirely.


    In the moment that aspected psy is within a body, a tiny portion of the aspected psy will rip itself from the caster''s control, spreading as far as it can while ravaging the flesh. Even under the worst of situations, though, the damage never spreads that far all at once. But this is where healers are unique, as their psy will seek to heal their bodies rather than harm.


    For everyone else, no one would notice the minor damage at first. Maybe there is a twinge or itch on your arm or an ache you can not explain for a little while after casting. But those discomforts are quickly forgotten under the euphoria of controlling nature.


    But the aspected psy never really goes away, only building up upon itself within a body. And eventually, that ache will become a bone-deep pain.


    If one chooses to keep going at that point, their psy can become corrupted as the aspect seeps into it, making a living an unending agony as every usage of psy spreads the taint along with searing pain.


    Only when a Knight enhances their bodies with psy can they reflect the aspected psy backlash outside of their bodies. Or mitigate it to the point that a healer can flush the aspected psy from their bodies if a Knight is unskilled. But such a procedure can only be done on small scales and is draining for a healer.


    **********


    "Focus!" Shouted a voice within Kathren''s mind, snapping her attention away from the battle miles away back to the one right in front of her.


    Shifting her shield, she deflected the thrust aimed at her side from a beastkin woman before slashing out with her short sword forcing the beastkin to react.


    Quickly sinking deep into the union once more after her momentary lapse, Kathren waited a moment before slashing at the woman again. The attack forced the beastkin to move her round shield away from the center of her body. It was only for a moment, but the opening was enough for the spear thrust already in motion to snake over the shield.


    The beastkin didn''t even see the tip of the spear that sank deep into the base of her throat. Only catching sight of it once it was ripped out of her body, covered in her lifeblood and a chunk of flesh.


    Before her body even had the time to fall to the ground, another beastkin was stepping over her, swinging a club at Kathrens face.


    The fleeting moment she had to take in the beastkin caused a spike of alarm to go off in Kathren''s head. Something was different.


    It wasn''t the size, as the beastkin was the same as those who surrounded him, standing over seven and a half feet tall. But there was an arrogant air around him, like the worst of the nobles Kathren had seen.


    Lifting her shield, Kathren followed her instincts, flooding a quarter of her psy and all the willpower she could manage into the tendril supporting her shield.


    As the club impacted her shield, Kathren was left to feel let down after her burst of panic. There was nothing¡­ Just another hit that slightly burned up a slight amount of psy.


    But the force of the attack never stopped increasing. And then, the sound of a chest-sized rock falling twenty feet and slamming into a wooden wall sounded, and a wave of air exploded outwards from the front of her shield.


    Driven to one knee from the impact, Kathren screamed as her tendril was cracked and the bottom portion ripped away.


    On instinct, more than conscious choice, Kathren used a tendril hooking her through her harness, pulling her up to her feet.


    "Ahh!" Kathren screamed again, but this time more from anger and effort, planting her feet and twisting her body, pushing the club still resting on her shield to the side.


    A cracking sound followed the movement, and Kathren found the bottom half of her shield fell away with the club.


    Feet planted, the top half of her shield that didn''t disintegrate raised, and still clutching her sword, Kathren found herself¡­ alone.


    It wasn''t so much physical, as while the torrent of wind and force had struck those around her, it had only made them take a step or two back, but a mental isolation.


    In close-quarters combat, a step could very well be the difference between life and death, but that was the last thing on her mind.


    The union was¡­ muffled. It was like placing two pieces of rough cloth next to her ear and vigorously rubbing them together.


    Whatever the cause was, the instinctual knowledge of where enemies were, if she was going to be attacked, and what she would cover with her shield was gone.


    The beastkin was looking at the club, now resting on the ground, its handle in his limp hand. Turning to look at her, he raised a single eyebrow in a surprised question.


    Watching the bloodthirsty smile spread across his face lighting up the beastkin''s dead eyes, Kathren felt a shiver run down her spine. She knew that smile.


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    It was the smile she watched appear on the face of a street thug or noble when they discovered someone actually putting up a fight to their kawrashit. A fight they were absolutely sure they would win, but the brutes would enjoy watching the other party struggle before crushing them.


    The sadistic prick is gonna toy with me¡­ Kathren thought, her mind only half focused after the backlash of blocking the attack.


    "Haha!" The beastkin laughed, the first sound any of them had made other than screams, snarls, and whimpers of pain. "This should be fun!" Said the beastkin before his chest expanded as he sucked in a large breath of air.


    It was like dust or streams of water vapor were sucked into the beastkin through his nose. At the end of the long, exaggerated breath, Kathren felt the mental network snap into focus, helping her mind clear.


    The beastkin lifted his club onto his shoulder. As the wood settled onto his pale skin, a pale blue started seeping from his skin, encasing his body, then seeping up his club.


    From the moment the beastkin struck her shield to now, the fight on the upper portion of the Western Bridge of the Triad had come to a screeching halt.


    Astonishment and shock filled the mental network of the Olimpians, some at the fact a beastkin spoke a coherent sentence and others at the fact he was glowing with some kind of power.


    As for the beastkin, they were looking at the warrior, their eyes literally glowing with looks of pride and expectation. With every beat of Kathren''s thundering heart, the shimmering around the breastkin only grew in color.


    Then two spears flashed from the back ranks of the Olimpians, nothing more than a blur to the eyes of those watching.


    Flinching and turning to the side, Kathren felt stinging lines covering her face and neck, then several hot lines running down her face.


    Turning back to the beastkin, she saw splinters of wood scattered over the ground at his feet. And the end of the spear shaft clutched in the beastkin''s grip was slightly quivering a couple feet to the side of Kathren''s face.


    He was holding onto the wood a few inches back from the steel tip of the spear.


    With a look of amusement, he casually clenched his hand, smashing the wood into dust and dropping the spear''s two parts onto the ground.


    "Shall we get started?" Asked the beastkin in a low voice, his words grinding through his fangs as he shook the dust off his hand.


    Kathren saw the muscles of the beastkin bulge. She knew he was going to attack.


    With her legion shield useless as half of it was gone, she instinctually put up a pure psy shield between her and him, not wanting to be hit by more splinters. With an attack coming, she tried to pump all of her psy into the shield.


    Her mind was too slow, as she hardly got a drop of psy out of her body. An attack she never saw hit her shield. Kathren felt her psy shield resist for a moment, then it shattered, and her mind was struck by the backlash as the front of her body felt like it was bashed in.


    The next thing Kathren knew, her vision was blurry until she blinked, then it snapped into focus. She was looking at the beastkin from inside the walls of the middle fort, the beastkin more than a dozen yards away.


    She heard the groans and curses from below her, and from the corner of her eye, she saw bodies moving, trying to untangle themselves without stabbing each other with their swords and spears.


    "Fucking again?!" Shouted a female from within the pile. "Look, I like being wet and in a pile of men as much as the next girl, but I need some warning!"


    Amusement ran through the group at her words, but it was the amusement of the damned.


    Kathren and most of the front line in the shield wall were already clambering to their feet and gathering together. It was easy for them as they landed on top of the rest. Not that any of them were happy to be getting to their feet so easily. It was their duty, and grim resignation radiated off them all.


    The beastkin already charging into the center of the fort and leaping onto the walls to attack the archers. To the side was another century guarding the northern gate, but they had their own problems to deal with. What was left of the third century coming off the walls and was smashed by the rubble had already joined with the other two, so no more help was coming from them.


    Stopping this charge was their job. No one else could do it.


    Six against, well, that one beastkin was overwhelming, so the rest of the beastkin just made the charge demoralizing. Counting their numbers would just me her feel worst.


    And that bastard was leading the charge, his face twisted with malicious glee. He wanted to see their blood spilled over the fort. Have it run in a river into the water below until it is stained red.


    The front of Kathren''s body was numb. Not the numbness of a limb falling asleep, but the numbness right after one is punched in the face. Or hit in the body, as there wasn''t a single part of her that didn''t feel like a wooden beam was taken to town on.


    Snorting to clear her nose, a spray of blood splattered the ground cobbled ground.


    As one, she and the six others stepped together, forming a wall between their commands and the on-rushing hoard. Some had porters of their shields broken off like her, others only had a spear, and one had no weapon at all.


    Clutching the steel spike in her fist, she and the other made their choice. "Ahh!" Kathren and the legionaries screamed as they charged with a shout of defiance.


    Feet pounding against the ground, the yards rapidly disappeared until the legionaries were only feet from the beastkin.


    And the beastkin leading the charge, glowing at strongly as ever, had his arm stretched out behind his back, ready to sweep them all away with a single swing.


    Eyes facing forw¡ª


    The ground erupted under Kathren''s feet, throwing her back. She found herself hanging in the air, looking up into the cloud-covered sky.


    She had plenty of time to process it all, as time seemed to be slowly dragging on without moving as two-foot-long and one-foot-wide stones hovered in the air above.


    "Huung!" Gasped out Kathren as her back hit something, the wind knocked out of her.


    They fucking tricked me! Kathren thought in outrage as she still looked at the blocks of stone hanging in the air.


    "Ohh, hey." Wheezed out the same female voice as before, "Glad you could drop back in. It just wasn''t the same down here without you."


    Gasping in reply, she started choking as her amusement caused something to go down the wrong pipe.


    Kathren lifted her head after she got control over herself, looking at what had knocked her back this time.


    Most of the area in front of what had once been the gate was now open air. Or so Kathren assumed. She could see a massive thirty-foot-wide hole torn into the stone ground. However deep it was, she had no idea.


    But Kathren would guess that the hole was most, if not all, of the way through to the bottom of the fort if the number of stones hanging in the air was any way to judge. Slowly but surely, the stones hanging in the air were drifting to the bridge''s surface, already fixing the damage.


    That was the amazing thing about these old structures. They all seemed to be able to repair themselves.


    But that only distracted Kathren for a moment, as her eyes were locked onto the blur of motion that was the beastkin and the Knight fighting.


    Fighting down the bridge on the other side of the gate as the beastkin was being pushed back.


    Eyes moving to a movement off to the sides, Kathren sighed in resignation. Even with the leader being pushed back, dozens more beastkin crept along the edges, making their way into the fort.


    "Get off your lazy asses, and get to work, Legionaries!" Shouted a centurion.


    "I''m in the back this time¡­" Kathren muttered, looking at her ruined shield and groaning from bruised ribs as she got up again.

 Chapter 48

    Excerpt From The Legion''s Scholarly Manual On Casting¡ª


    The requirement to protect one''s body is what makes the minimum standard for achieving the second tier of telekinesis so comparably high. And while many can enhance portions of their bodies with small amounts of psy, the truth can not be denied.


    If one desires to be a knight, they must be within the top 60% of all casters regarding psy reserves. And even then, unless they were in the top 40%, they would need to control five or even six strands if they wished to avoid damage to their body.


    Because, like many things, the more psy one has, the easier it is to avoid backlash.


    The greatest ability of a Knight, and by far the most underrated, is that of conjoined castings.


    Once a Knight shifts their psy into an elemental aspect, they can extend their strand into their element, then use the psy to control and shape it to their will. Though a source must be present for a knight to control.


    When two elements are combined, the result is not a linear progression of power, as the elements can amplify or suppress the other in interesting ways.


    The change isn''t just an increase in power. Our grandest structures were mand by Knights combining their power.


    As the Knights combined their wills while infusing their elemental powers, a structure can develop a will of its own.


    The result could be one or more of many things, such as making the structure more durable, able to repair itself, and in some cases, opening and closing doors.


    How such structures come about is still a mystery, but no one can say they don''t exist.


    **********


    "Ready," Joxin said in a calm tone. The shield bearer next to him tensed in preparation, "Shift."


    At the word, the shield bearer standing in the space between the crenelations of stone on the ramparts of the Middle Fort slid to the side. Raising his bow and stepping into the small gap between the shield and his stone cover, Joxin released his arrow at a beastkin climbing up to the western bridge.


    Before he could see if his shot connected, he stepped back into cover. Joxin might not have seen it, but he was confident he would connect. Whether the wound would make the beastkin fall to a watery death was another matter.


    Joxin was decent with the bow. He picked it up as a young adult living on the Great Plains, though his skill never really progressed as hunting wasn''t his thing. During his decade of service, while going out on patrols in bum fuck nowhere, it became a lot more important. It was the only way to guarantee fresh meat.


    Tracking through the southern border of the Great Forest and the Swamps was¡­ well, he actually missed it. The smell took some getting used to, but the constant warm temperature was enjoyable. And it was where he learned of his natural talent for surviving in nature. Though the ending was¡­ less than pleasant.


    None of that mattered at the moment. Joxin could be one of the worst archers in the legion, but as long as he knew how to aim and fire a bow in a direction, he would still hit something. That wouldn''t be as effective as what he was doing, but it didn''t change the truth. There are too many beastkin on the bridge.


    Not that he was taking his time to aim, Joxin roughly lined up his shot with the shadows racing up the ladder, releasing the arrow, and before stepping back into cover again.


    Joxin''s shots might not be hitting a target as often, but they were more effective than one of the half-dozen arrows sticking out of the larger beastkin.


    His middle-aged partner, who Joxin had no idea what his name was, started sliding back into place before the arrow was fully off Joxin''s string, almost clipping the arrow shaft mid-flight with his shield.


    And yet, before the legionary could fully cover the slit in the battlements with his shield, a spear clipped the shield''s edge. The older man twisted and shoved his shield to the side at the contact, sending the spear to spin and clatter across the ground, coming to a stop at Joxin''s feet. If the man was a moment later, Joxin would have taken the spear to the shoulder.


    The older man only gave the briefest look to the spear as he flicked his wrist, sending out a tendril to grab the spear and send it flying back the way it came.


    Screams and shouts sounded to Joxin''s left, but they blended into the cacophony filling the air. Hardly noticeable among the clang of metal striking metal and wood thunking into flesh and stone. But every time Joxin heard a scream, he performed a quick survey of the mental network, knowing his time was coming soon.


    Joxin was fortunate in his placement on the walls of the Middle Fort. He wasn''t standing above the gates and was swept away when the fist of water smashed them to pieces.


    Then when those fighting in the gap of the western gate were pushed back, half of those on the battlements were forced to fight off those beastkin leaping to the top of the walls and were still fighting.


    Luckily the knight arrived to push back the mage beastkin, but there were still plenty of the normal beastkin left to kill them. And without the walls, they were in trouble.


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    The weird thing was that while Joxin didn''t see the fight, he heard the impacts at cracks of air when their weapons were swung and hit. And as soon as it stopped, the knight disappeared again, leaving the battle to them. Where in the cursed elementals are the knights?


    But that was a question that didn''t matter to him. All he had to do was his job. And with how close Joxin was to the Northern Tower of Middle keep, his job was to keep firing his bow.


    "Ready," said Joxin, his voice in no way making it above the din of battle, but his intention of being ready to release his arrow was passed to his partner. "Shift," Joxin said after a moment.


    When Joxin was releasing the arrow, his aim was thrown off as he jerked in surprise and concern. No longer caring what happened to his shot, he spun around and crouched down, the more pressing worries in the forefront of his mind.


    "We have flyers incoming!" Sounded a voice in his mind after the blare of mental warning to look up and north, which caused him to miss his shot. "Archers on the walls, keep them off the troops!"


    Looking up towards the sky, Joxin''s eyes caught on the walls of the Western Fort of the Triad.


    Fire raged outside the walls, and on ramparts ¡ª lit by the backdrop of raging crimson and smoke ¡ª were the outlines of those struggling for dominance.


    Along the outside of the wall, only a few of the siege towers still stood whole. Most of them were skewed to the side or partially collapsed, with only a single wall or post still standing, skeletons of what they were. The towers that still stood had dark figures with gleaming eyes pouring out of them, joining the melee on the walls.


    What Joxin could not understand was the massive holes on the inside of the walls. It was like something was trapped inside of the walls and exploded outward, sending the massive bricks of stone to knock over the buildings in their way.


    In the brief moment he watched as his eye went to the sky, Joxin saw a portion of the wall shake like a swaying tree as more stone bricks flew out of the gaping wound.


    Looking up to the sky, Joxin saw nothing but the dark clouds churning overhead.


    Then a crack of branching lightning forked across the heavens, and he saw beastkin by the thousands. They already looked to be breaking up into groups, diving towards different sections of the Triad, some even looking like they were going to the Southern Fort and its city.


    All that changed when one branch of lightning after another began forking into their formations, dropping their now charred forms from the sky by the dozens. And then hundreds.


    Within seconds, the formations of the beastkin were shattered by the azure power of lighting. Then seven suns of purest white burst to life across the sky.


    The brightness burning in the sky made Joxin duck his head and cover his eyes with his free hand, but he did not turn away.


    Even knowing the fight was still raging around him, taking on a momentary new ferocity with the night suddenly being banished, arrows and spears striking with newfound precision.


    Joxin did not care. He didn''t even raise his bow to fend off the beastkin diving closer to the Middle Fort even now.


    "That is power," Joxin whispered, his eyes burning with wonder.


    From the moment he saw a knight wield the earth to kill a melka, stalking through the tall grass of the plains up to the clan tents, saving a child''s life, he had wanted to be one. To wield the might of the Elementals themselves, what greater feeling could there be?


    Not that he would know as a child, but to a child''s mind, there couldn''t be anything greater.


    How many children dream of becoming a knight? Standing in front of a legion, fighting a hoard of beastkin stretching to the horizon, and having them all look at you with amazement. Holding them back with the powers of the elements.


    And yet, so many children can never achieve those goals no matter how hard they try. They simply have too little psy. And of those with barely enough psy, they don''t have the dedication to train themselves up to standard.


    Joxin did have the will to train, but his psy reserves were right on the border. And maybe, if he was honest, a little under the required level.


    It might have been a childhood pipe dream, but he never really gave up believing he would one day become a knight. When the offer came to join the scouts, he took it.


    Everyone knew that scouts were, more often than not, more skilled than knights when it came to skill. They just didn''t have the power to back up their skill.


    Instructor Green was the personification of such a statement. In truth, Joxin had never met anyone so skilled, and it gave new life to his childhood fantasy.


    But what the beastkin were doing, that was something else. It went beyond the primal powers of nature into the realm of fantasy. Like the stories of the miracles, the old gods could perform.


    It was common knowledge that knights could only use what was already around them, though Joxin knew the strongest had ways around the limitation.


    But as a rule of thumb, a knight aqua couldn''t make water in a desert, and a knight electro can''t make lighting from a clear sky. The forces they used were powerful and savage in their efficiency but limited.


    What he had heard and seen about the beastkin''s powers, they were far more versatile and mysterious.


    Like the brightness lighting up the sky, the longer Joxin looked, the more sure he became that he was not looking at a ball of fire. The orbs were such a pale yellow that they bordered on white.


    Then the seven different orbs of light streaked across the sky, leaving faint yellow lines in their wakes. For less than the blink of an eye, the orbs darted forward, jerking and dodging from side to side as bolts of lightning lashed out, then they all exploded in a growing field that was hundreds of yards in diameter.


    The only sound was a resounding hollow thump from the explosion that could be heard all across the battlefield.


    Then the explosion vanished in an instant, and in its place was a white and bright orange lump falling from the sky in the center of a hole in the clouds. Bolts of power cracked out their fury, branching between the open area as new clouds quickly filled in the space.


    While lighting rumbled, none of it struck at the beastkin.


    "Snap out of it and shoot your damn bow!" Shouted the older man while stomping on Joxin''s foot.


    In all his years in the legion, he had never seen a knight die in battle. He heard of it happening while fighting the Imperials, but seeing it was something different¡­


    Raising his bow, Joxin took aim at a diving beastkin, releasing his shot. Before the arrow made it, he had already strung another arrow and was tracking a target next to the first.


    "Fuck!" Joxin cursed as his first arrow missed the beastkin as it swerved out of the way.


    Holding his next shot, Joxin waited until the beastkin leveled out their dives before releasing his next shot. Before quickly ducking behind the wall.


    Joxin heard the thunk of the beastkin hitting the wall, but he could not smile as tens of legionaries all along the walls were skewered through the back and fronts by thrown and thrust spears.


    Putting another arrow into his string, Joxin took aim at the bastards.

 Chapter 49

    Excerpt From The Legion''s Scholarly Manual On Casting¡ª


    Now that I have given an overview of the disciplines, I must move on to the core concept of the legion. It is what has allowed us to expand our lands and push the beastkin into the mountain to let the savage creatures fight amongst themselves.


    No one can gainsay our castings are mighty. We harness the elements of the world, binding them to our will. When one takes it to the most basic level, we move objects with our minds, objects far heavier than we can move with our bodies, and can throw them farther than we can throw with our arms.


    As strong as individuals of us are, they are nothing but individuals. They must sleep, eat, and require rest. When one or more of those needs are not met for an extended amount of time, they are as easy to kill as any other creature.


    The Union elevates us into something more significant.


    Even the wary amongst us will shrug off wounds in the heat of battle. Our castings become sharper, acting beyond what we would generally be able to perform while requiring less psy.


    And best of all, we can send psy to others to use.


    While there are practical limitations, such as distance, these can be overcome.


    The farther from the origin, the more psy dissipates. Either you need more willpower to add to the cohesion of the casting, or you need to be willing to accept some loss of the transferred psy.


    **********


    Kathren''s mouth twitched in amusement at the unspoken agreement the two sides of the battle had come two. Long minutes had passed, an eternity in a battle, and still neither side moved to break the trust of the other.


    Screams of agony and rage still filled the Middle Fort as they killed each other, but how you died was an altogether different matter.


    Who wanted to fall through a hole plummeting a hundred feet to their death? The beastkin might survive the fall, but they would definitely break a limb or two and probably be knocked unconscious. Drowning would be a real possibility.


    So no one stepped within two feet of the hole''s edge, each side treating it like a wall was blocking their path.


    The beastkin tried jumping over the hole to flank the legion lines at first, but a few thrown rocks and spears halting their momentum in the center of the hole, quickly put a stop to that. The screams of blood-curdling terror that abruptly stopped might have also had an impact on the beastkin''s choice.


    Holding a spear in her dominant hand, Kathren waited. When the time felt right, she thrust her spear forward, hitting a beastkin in the shoulder as his shield was knocked out of the way by a legionary.


    The wound further opened up the beastkin to attack as she cut something important, causing his shield to drop. As the shield fell to hang at the beastkin''s side, a sword slipped out of the line, slashing open the beastkin''s throat.


    Shield slamming forward, the man in front of the beastkin, smashed the body into the second rank of their opponents.


    The moment was fleeting, but the body impeded the movement of those behind and left those to the sides open.


    Seeing the opening, the centurion gave the order to press forward, causing the entire century to act as one.


    A surge of psy flooded into the three positioned to exploit the weakness, as they received a little bit from everyone in the makeshift century.


    Reinforcing their shields, the three pulled themselves forward as they jumped with all their strength, hiding behind their shields.


    The legionary in the center further knocked back those beastkin that were still dealing with the body. At the same time, the two legionaries on the sides wedged themselves into the gap, slashing at the beastkins on the sides of the hole to drive them back as they moved forward, pressing into the second line supporting the point of their wedge.


    Hot in their wake, Kathren and those around her pressed forward, adding to the momentum.


    As Kathren stepped from the formation''s third line into the second line, she hoisted her spear over her shoulder, then threw it at a beastkin who had partially turned to stab one of the leading legionaries in the back.


    Her aim was true, and the spear buried half a foot of its length into the beastkin''s side. Others in the front line pressing forward also lashed out with an attack, making the beastkin look like a pincushion for a moment as two blades and multiple spears entered the body.


    Stepping into the front line of the legion again, Kathren pulled her sword out of its sheath and raised her new shield before moving into the brake in the enemy line. Damnit! Why am I in the fucking front? She thought in annoyance.


    Kathren kept moving forward, her eyes looking straight ahead. She ignored the sides and the threat they posed. Those behind her would deal with them and widen the brake in the beastkin line. Or they won''t, and I''ll die from a stab to the back¡­


    Her goal, and those in front of her, was to plunge as deep into the lines as possible before they ground to a halt.


    With her second step into the enemy line, she felt and saw the left side of the arrowhead of their attack be struck in the leg by an attack, causing her to stumble and take a spear to the throat as her shield dropped.


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    "Fucking instincts!" Kathren cursed a moment later, leaping forward and sweeping her shield to the side. "Can never trust a man in battle!"


    The man that was right behind the tip of the charge suddenly had his full attention on the woman bleeding to death at his feet.


    He even started to bend over to try and help her or something, getting a spear in the gut for his efforts. "Fucking idiot!" She hissed.


    The bottom of her shield hit his spine, sending his body flying into the feet of three beastkin, knocking them off their feet and forming a pile, before stepping onto the woman''s chest and slashing out with her sword at a beastkin flanking the point of the attack.


    Moving off the woman gurgling in pain, Kathren blocked a club the Union told her was coming at her side while deflecting another spear thrust with her sword.


    Following her blade, she let the edge slide along the wooden shaft until she hit the bitch''s wrist, causing her to pull back.


    Swinging her shield forward, Kathren smashed the steel-cased corner into the beastkin''s jaw, snapping her head back with a spray of blood and teeth.


    Now settling into her spot, a step behind and slightly to the left of the lead, Kathren and the two men slashed and stabbed out with their short swords, driving into the beastkin''s ranks.


    Blood was flung from their swords with every swing, and splattered into the air from the fresh wounds they inflicted, filling the air with the smell and taste of iron.


    Her breathing was ragged, and her hand was clenched tight on the slick hilt of her sword. No matter how much or how hard she swung, the blood was running too much and too thick for all of it to be flung off her blade.


    Time and again, she blocked and slashed with her shield and sword. One beastkin after the next appeared before her, and she sliced them open or battered them to the sides for those behind her to take care of.


    And then, in what felt like one blink of an eye, there were no more beastkin in her path.


    Turning around in a half-daze, she found herself standing at the center of a line of legionaries slicing through the sixty or so beastkin still standing.


    Kathren watched the conflict while catching her breath. A flood of legionaries surged through and then around the two halves of the beastkin force, enveloping them.


    One of the sides was pressing the beastkin backward, finally breaking the unspoken agreement as they drove them over the ledge of the hole in the ground. While the other went through the bloody work of hacking and slashing those pressed up against the inside wall.


    The beastkin became more desperate as they saw the end coming, lashing out with wide-sweeping attacks trying to knock back the legionaries and break out of the encirclement. But all it did was offer more openings for the shield wall to take advantage of.


    Seconds passed into minutes as the bloody work was done, and as the number required to get the job done decrease, a Centurion barked out, "Form up on me."


    Kathren looked over, surprised to find him a few feet from her. She had never seen him before, and with the makeshift cluster fuck they were in, she was somewhat surprised they even had one in the century.


    Though she had been following his orders for a while now¡­ Maybe I should have expected to see him soon. She thought to herself.


    They had eighty people when they charged the right side of the hole, but now they numbered fifty-four after their losses. The other side of the hole only had thirty-six people to hold in in comparison.


    But it was appropriate, as the hole in the ground wasn''t centered, making their side over twenty feet wide while the other was ten. They needed more people.


    At his command, twenty-five legionaries broke off from the fight, forming up the centurion.


    Turning, they looked at the backs of the beastkin pressing their comrades on the other side of the hole.


    "On the double," came the centurion''s words into their minds, "no shouting until we start fighting. March!"


    As quietly as legionaries'' carrying fifty pule pounds of equipment and clanking metal could manage, they jogged around the hole in the ground.


    Deafening and all-consuming as a battle was, those at the back of a formation still had the time to look around.


    As such, none of them were surprised as several beastkin at the back of the group started pulling and shouting at those next to them, trying to get their attention.


    Not that a few spots of resistance mattered. Hell, even if they all turned around, it wouldn''t change the outcome. Kathren thought with a vicious grin, her face splattered with spots of beastkin blood.


    "Charge!" Came the mental command they all were expecting. The dozen or so yards between the two groups disappeared in seconds.


    The few spots that had turned to face the new threat to their backs had their weapons batted to the side, while those with their back turned were cut down in a single slash of the blade.


    Like a scythe through wheat, Kathren and her comrades tore into the helpless beastkin.


    None of them had a chance, as the attack was as unexpected as it was savage.


    In what felt like a matter of seconds, but had to be a couple minutes, Kathren was face to face with another legionary, her sword raised for another blow, feet planted on the backs of the dead.


    Slowly, she lowered her sword, blinking at her counterpart in mild confusion.


    The sweat and blood-covered woman gave Kathren a nod and clapped her on the shoulder as she marched past.


    Turning around, Kathren moved to follow the woman, knowing that everyone was forming at the gap in the gate.


    Gaze sweeping over the fort as she turned, her eyes caught on the century holding the ruins of the northern gate. They were standing at what had become a wall of piled bodies and bricks, forcing the beastkin to climb over them and face their spears.


    On the walls of the Middle Fort, and laying in pools of blood on the inside of the walls, were the bodies of legionaries and flying beastkin. Some of them had their arms wrapped around each other, knives and short spears clenched in their fists and driven into the other''s back, making a mockery of a hug.


    Even now, dozens of archers on the walls and in the towers were constantly releasing arrows into the air, keeping the circling beastkin back.


    Dead filled the fort, and Kathren would be surprised if they still had half of their original numbers, but she could not stop the fierce smile on her face.


    They held strong.


    Head high, Kathren finished her turn and fell into the line of those marching to the western gate, her eyes widening in surprise as she looked down its length.


    A couple hundred beastkin were gathered around the ladder to the bridge. A dozen feet from them, Kathren recognized the body of the beastkin who knocked her on her ass.


    His chest had a wound from shoulder to hip, and it looked deep enough to hit his spine. Though shocking to see a being able to knock a hundred people dozens of feet away dead, that was not what surprised Kathren.


    The up until this point constant flood of beastkin up the massive ladder fell to a trickle before stopping entirely. She could only see them a moment longer before the beastkin were blocked from view.


    A column of smoke blocked out the middle of the bridge and was only expanding.


    Her smile taking on a cruel twist, Kathren waited. Either the beastkin would suffocate in the smoke or be cut down by one of their blades.


    All she had to do now was wait to find out which they would choose.

 Chapter 50

    Excerpt From Musings on Olimpian Society by Lurell Flenk¡ª


    There is one question I believe must be asked about our society, regardless of whether you take the position of an insider looking out or an outsider looking in. This question must be asked if you are to have any credibility in your writings on our society.


    The question is simple.


    Why do the elves exist as a faction?


    If faction can even be considered the right word.


    We could massacre them, enacting a complete genocide, and there are many who advocate for this. It would take decades, and the losses would be high, but we could do it.


    Or we can go the way of the Imperium and enslave all elves for the Great Betrayal of their ancestors. This course of action is in the minority, but you will still hear it occasionally. Not that it will ever catch on.


    Too many people desire the moral high ground when talking about the Imperium. Or they simply have a distaste for doing anything the Imperium has done, not wanting anyone to say they copied their opinions. At no point will the objections concern the elves and what they wish.


    Yet, the elves are little more than slaves, regardless of their supposed legal standing. But they never run into their Great Forest, where we would never find them.


    The only real freedom an elf has is in the Legion, where more often than not, they are marched off to the border legions to die on the front lines.


    Not once in our history have they, as a community, shown a sign of rebelling. And the few cases of an individual elf rebelling can be traced back to a family making a power play.


    And most of all, no matter how outspoken crowds become as they shout for the blood of elves and all the wrongs they supposedly wrought, how often has anyone ever seen an elf beaten to death? Or even physically abused?


    **********


    Sathera strained her body, curling in slightly as she clenched every muscle. Seconds passed before she felt the burn of flexing and even longer before the twinges of cramping muscles made themselves known. Or at least, it took that long until she could feel the pain.


    Holding the strain for as long as she could, she relaxed her body, and nearly instantly started shivering from the cold again. Only the constant tension of her jaw kept it clamped shut, stopping her teeth from chattering.


    There was a real concern in the back of her mind about her focus slipping and biting down on her tongue and taking off a piece when she closed it again, but the noise could get them killed.


    Centurion Markus was right. The beastkin might have night vision, but with the cloud cover, their vision wasn''t good enough to see across the river. But they could pick up the clacking of teeth on this eerily quiet night.


    A fact Sathera and the others quickly figured out.


    The river had no outcroppings of rocks to make the rushing sound of water the Rush was known for, not in this part of the river, at least. There was a faint rasping lapping as small waves ran over the distant beaches, but it was hardly noticeable.


    Void, take that fish, Sathera groaned in her mind.


    A little way upstream, Sathera heard the um mistakable splash of a fish jumping out of the water. Or to the beastkin, one of them hitting the water¡­


    Closing her eyes, she waited, not surprised, when a mental message entered her mind. "Flatten out, don''t make any noise," Celeste said. Tired acknowledgments filled the mental network, and the slight noise of objects slipping into the water could be heard.


    Three seconds later, the plops and plunks of rocks falling into the river sounded. Except they were deeper than the pebbles children throw into a puddle, as these rocks had more in common with boulders.


    A fire sparked to life on the bank of the Northern side of the river, streaking over the water while casting its flickering light on the rippling surface.


    "Down!" Came Celeste''s command, ripping through their minds.


    Everyone on the raft was already lying partially submerged, but they tried to will themselves to sink deeper into the lapping water and slip between the logs. Chests were sucked in, and ears were filled with cold water as they were lowered below the river''s surface.


    It was not the first time everyone on the raft had done this, and they doubted it would be the last.


    Adrenalin filled Sathera''s body, and she pulled Instructor Green closer, pressing down on his body with her wrinkled hands and arm.


    All she could do was wait with her heart caught in her chest. Waiting, hoping¡­ Fearing.


    As the light of the fireball arched over the approximate location of the splash, it stopped and hung in the air. This is why people hate fish¡­ It''s a worthless food!


    "Their!" Shouted a distant voice, causing the mental network to be filled with despair.


    "Get up and shield us." Ordered a weary Celeste, not even bothering to send a mental message to Sathera and Bellous. Everyone knew who she was talking to, and there was no more point in trying to hide.


    Everyone had a spark of hope that they wouldn''t be spotted, but they had been through this enough by now to know they would be.


    If the ball of fire hanging over the center of the river was farther away, they could have stayed hidden in the flickering shadows playing across the river.


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    Probably. Shadows were tricky things.


    As the night first settled over them, they quickly learned not to pull the raft forward. The extra speed made their wake too obvious.


    A ball of fire thrown into the air a hundred yards away could be traced back to them. Not to mention the sound of water beating against the raft¡¯s¡­ prow.


    It might not sound like much, and neither did teeth clicking together, but the ears of the beastkin had proven sharp enough to pick out the noises.


    Or close enough that they could throw a fireball and reveal them.


    Celeste and Gruth were mentally exhausted and bearly had enough psy together to keep the Union going. And the only reason they were still awake was that the mage on Celeste''s side of the river disappeared right after Tirre was injured, letting her assist Gruth. The only other one who could do something was Centurion Markus, who was still unconscious, so it fell to Sathera and Bellous to act as a defense.


    The fish and delirious Tirre tried to help, but it was a minor miracle that they stayed coherent enough to not be constantly screaming into the night air from uncontrolled fear.


    This last day and night were pushing Sathera to her limits, and she had a decade of life serving in the legion. For fish that hadn''t even completed basic training¡­ these are ones to keep an eye on. Might make good scouts. She mused to herself, taking a moment to look at the¡­ Legionaries.


    She could feel their fear. It radiated off them in waves when cold exhaustion wasn''t pulling them to their deaths. But they didn''t let it control them.


    Even now, their eyes were searching the night, looking for the slightly darker objects on the black backdrop of rumbling storm clouds. The help was needed.


    With a groan of discomfort, Sathera got up to one knee, water running down her back in streams.


    Before she made it up, she saw the bank of the river light up with a red-orange light, and she saw the person she currently hated the most in the world.


    Between the outstretched hands of the beastkin, a ball of fire sparked into life over the course of several long seconds. Then, with the flick of a wrist, the ball sailed into the air, hanging above the raft, lighting it up like a bonfire was sitting in the raft''s center, just without the warmth. Asshole¡­


    Every now and then, when the void-spawned wind blowing along the river died down, she thought she could feel a faint heat. It might have been her imagination, or it could have been she was so cold that a heat source a hundred feet above was actually warming her.


    Stopping when the ball of fire reached over her head, it stopped moving and hung in the air.


    Over the course of their run through the day, they must have been attacked by half a dozen mages. Most of them threw oversized or fast-moving rocks. Sathera was pretty sure ¡ª but could not be entirely sure ¡ª that this bastard was the only one throwing fire around.


    But out of all the mages, this one was the only one still attacking them. Well, not really attacking, but letting the other beastkin attack.


    Sathera had no idea how hard it was to use their powers, but running to keep up with them while throwing those powers around for hours on end was impressive. Not that she would say that out loud.


    They all could see the decrease in power of the spells over the course of the pursuit, and even looking at the fire, she could tell it was at a tenth of the intensity of before.


    But that tenth was plenty bright enough to give the hundreds of beastkin stretched up and down the river the ability to throw semi-accurate rocks at them again.


    Gathering the little amount of psy that was offered up to her, she scraped the few specs of psy in her own core and formed a shield. It was pathetic, really.


    Nine inches in diameter and half an inch thick of loosely packed psy. Hardly enough willpower was injected into the casting to keep its form. The work of a child¡­ she thought with scorn at her own work.


    While the size of a psy casting is no real indication of how strong a casting is, the density and cohesion of a casting does.


    Pack a bunch of psy into a casting; it can burn through the psy quickly to achieve its purpose. Fill a casting with your willpower, unifying and organizing every drop of psy, and a small amount of psy becomes far more efficient and capable than most would think.


    Sathera lacked the willpower to compress and shape her psy properly.


    If she was fresh, she could use the same amount of psy and block ten stones. Right now, she could block two or maybe three before her casting started falling apart.


    She already knew that no one had anything else to give.


    "It''s up to luck," Sathera said in a tired voice to know one in particular. ¡°¡­how good their aim is."


    ¡°¡­I know," Celeste said, sighing in resignation. "We''re all tapped out."


    Taking a moment to look over, Sathera saw Celeste leaving back on her elbows, looking up at the burning sky with an almost peaceful, tired look on her face.


    She wasn''t even doing her normal petty actions of kicking or splashing Green''s unconscious body. She always said she was trying to wake him up, but they were in a mental link. Sathera could feel the petty pleasure she got every time she hit him.


    But there was also something deeper. Whatever it was, Sathera had neither the time nor will to look for it.


    "There." One of the fish said while sending a mental picture.


    Acting without looking, Sathera moved her shield a foot behind and over her head to the left. A moment later, she felt the impact of the stone.


    "Move," she gasped, her shoulders hunching like she was holding up the weight of the world. She heard frantic splashing as people moved behind her before she let out a quiet shout of effort, "Ahhg!"


    Sathera tried to throw the rock off the back of the raft, but all she could do was tilt her shield slightly after holding the large stone in place for long seconds.


    The rock thunked onto the logs of the raft, causing it to shake slightly.


    "Incoming!" Shouted another mental voice.


    Sweeping her shield forward and to the side, Sathera infused it with a sudden burst of willpower she didn''t know she had. The shield slammed into the rock and threw it to the side of its previous flight path, causing it to plop into the river in front of the raft.


    She felt a sprinkling of water from the splash of the rock but did not care to look or even wipe it off. What was a little more water at this point?


    After changing the direction of the rock, she felt her casting shatter into nothing, as it could not take the impact. At the same time, she realized the mental network was collapsing, Celeste and Gruth finally running out of psy.


    "Fucking bastard¡­" Sathera thought she heard as the backlash fully slammed into her mind knocking the breath out of her as she hunched forward.


    Sucking in a breath, Sathera forced her body to move, looking up past the backlash crushing her mind. She did not know how long she looked across the water, her eyes unfocused, but she was distantly aware of movement around her.


    Eyes snapping into focus, she watched a head-sized rock sailing across the water.


    The longer she watched, the more confident she became the rock would hit her. But she did nothing, not even blinking as death approached. She could not even muster the emotion to care.


    Then a delicate, blood stained hand reached past her and flicked its fingers, and the rock shattered into fragments.


    Turning, she saw Green, eyes open and blood spots in his face, looking at her. He gave her a strained smile, his face bloodless, as it looked like all of the blood in his head was coming out of his nose.


    He nodded at her, then his eyes shifted past her, and he said a single word that slowly worked its way into her mind.


    Looking back at the shore, she saw figures clad in armor striding from the waters of the Rush.


    Finally, the word spoken by Green coalesced in her mind, causing her lips to crack with a heartfelt smile. Finally, she whispered the hope-filled word half in prayer, ¡°knights¡­"

 Chapter 51

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    Areekail, High King of the Great Woodlands, waved his hand, and fire no bigger than a candle''s flame unfurled from the tip of his pointer finger. Like it was shot from a bow, the fire leapt toward the fort.


    As the fire traveled, it grew in size and changed color.


    At first, it was the cherry red of a campfire''s coals. Within a dozen feet, the candle flame that leapt from the High King''s finger had grown to the size of a bonfire and started to change to the light blue of the sky at the edges.


    The growth never stopped, and the core of the fire shifted to an azure hew. Then it became the purest of whites.


    By the time the once tiny flame had nearly reached the base of the walls, and the gathered beastmen outside them, it had become an ocean.


    Stretching out before the High King in the shape of a cone, the earth was scorched. Any grass below the flame was burned to less than ash. The now barren ground Looked like it had been baked in a kiln and had cracked open, with the air above shimmering with the intense heat it held.


    Nothing could stop the torrent as the flames born from the underworld reached the tens of thousands of beastmen.


    Before the flame could reach the poor creatures, their fur burst into flames. The blood-curdling death screams of thousands rang out into the world, then stopped as the white core reached them.


    Without a hint of change, the flame swept forward, curving around the fortification like a boulder dropped into the middle of a stream.


    When the fire disappeared around the bend of the fortifications, nothing was left. Not even the ash of the dead.


    "Follow." Said High King Areekail, his word filled with intent and meaning. A request made by a being who once again looked like a god made flesh to my eyes. And this time, we followed without any compulsion.


    We finally understood. There was something the High King needed us to bear witness to.


    **********


    Weakly lashing out at what hit me, I moaned in annoyance. I wanted to fall back into the warm embrace of sleep.


    As stark reality pulled me out of the darkness of unconsciousness, I was only feeling worse. Struggle how I might, I could not force my mind to shut down. There was too much wrong with me, and survival instincts were forcing me awake.


    A deep cold was biting deep into my whole body, which was actually helping to numb all of the spots of pain flaring to life. I couldn''t even really feel my hands and feet.


    The cold did nothing, however, for my pounding head¡­ And more importantly, the bitch screaming into my ear and shaking me.


    "Get up, you fucking Twig! I know your knife-eared head can hear me; they are twitching! We¡ª need¡­ you." Her last few words were said through a tight throat and were dragged out of her one syllable at a time.


    "Feed me, and I''ll think about it," I said, opening my mouth. I was still half asleep and trying to stay there, but the hole in my gut needed to be filled by something. I knew in the back of my mind I needed to get up, and I was not going to fall asleep again, but I just didn''t care.


    ¡°Ahh¡­ Wha¡ª di¡ª you say?" Asked Celeste, her voice taking on a high and uncertain tone.


    Celeste was, to put it bluntly, crazy hot. Gotta emphasize the crazy part. She is not the most attractive person I have ever seen, but that fanatic intensity gives her a certain¡­ wild appeal.


    "I''m willing to fuck crazy if you wanna give it a go?" I asked, not really paying attention. I was adjusting to my body''s aches and cracking my eyes open, trying to adapt to the blinding light stabbing into them.


    There was nothing for a second, and then another second passed, the silence growing heavier. Suddenly shocked laughter filled my ears, and I wondered why until it froze, eyes half open as I thought back on the last minute. Oh, shi¡ª "Ahh! Fuck that hurt." I said nasally, rolling to the side and clamping my hands to my face.


    My hands were immediately slick with blood, as my nose was broken by the boulder that hit it.


    "Calm down!" said a voice above the splashing of water behind me.


    Another voice said, "He wasn''t fully awake! Let it go!" Their words did nothing as the sounds of wrestling increased.


    I had to assume that the barely contained laughter in their voices as they tried to calm the situation was not much of a help.


    Not wanting to be attacked, unaware again, I forced my eyes open.


    My vision turned white, and the pain in my head spiked, causing tears to come to my eyes. It was like I took two knives, shoved them into my head, and wiggled them around.


    If I had one of those hypothetical knives as I clutched my forehead, hands shaking from pain, I would have seriously considered if it was less painful to be done with it all and just cut out my eyes. A perception sphere is better than eyes, after all.


    Instead, I got to resist clawing out my eyes by digging fingernails into my scalp. I''m not a healer or anything, but digging them out with my nails has to hurt more, right?


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    Finally, my eyes adjusted to the light, and my surroundings swam into focus.


    I was surrounded by water, lit up by a ball of fire in the sky with¡­ my eyes widened in shock as I saw distant figures on the shoreline. I saw the beastkin move, and a moment later, I picked out a rock flying through the air.


    Instinctually, I let out a pulse, looking for danger.


    "Augh!" I screamed, holding my head in my hands. It felt like my head was trapped between two strands of mental energy and was slowly being crushed.


    Information was flooding my mind.


    A pulse of mental energy reacts when it hits a body and any objects infused with energy, such as a weapon. When you use a pulse, usually, you get a picture of a ball of burning light for a head and dimmer lines of energy radiating out, giving a rough outline of the body.


    Through practice, one can gather more information and extrapolate what is happening from the flash of information they receive. In a Union with multiple pulses every moment, there is little to no question of what is happening.


    This pulse was different. I saw everything.


    From where I sat on the raft to a foot into the water and a dozen feet into the tree line, I saw every detail all at once.


    I could mentally inspect the pants and tunics of legionaries next to me, holding down Celeste, her face twisted with rage. The grains of the rough rocks flying through the air were like a book, and the delicate weaving of the cloak of the beastkin on the shoreline was a story, telling of years of skill and practice.


    All that information was shoved into my head, and it was too much. I was not prepared, and I was far from being at my full capabilities.


    Shoving at the deluge of information, I forced it down and away, like I did with the unnecessary information in my perception sphere. But this was to a far greater level than I had ever imagined.


    Every inch the pulse extended increased the burden and pressure building within my mind by several times of magnitude. An inch of ground was like a whole world expanding before me.


    Instead of an inch of soil containing leaves, dirt, fungus, and insects I could ignore while stepping over, it was the valleys and peaks of mountains with thriving and unique life.


    After what felt like an eternity of fighting to not be swamped under the information, I felt my tortured mind begin to clear, as nothing more was being crammed into it.


    I spent a moment relishing the blissful silence of my mind.


    My body still ached, the cold eating at my bones while my head throbbed, but that no longer mattered. Perspective was everything, and right now, I was existing in the euphoria of the absence of all-consuming pain.


    A moment before, I was a waterskin on the brink of bursting as ever more was crammed in. Now I was a water skin gradually shrinking as I tried to regain my previous shape, but the stretch marks would leave their mark.


    Reveling in my newfound comfort, I left my mind wandering, skimming over all the information I had received.


    Lunging to the side, I stretched out my hand, forming a tendril that lashed out of my palm and struck the stone, shattering it. I paused for a second, eyes wide at the power of my casting. I had just meant to force it to the side.


    Letting the casting go, I turned to Sathera as she slowly followed my arm to my body. When I saw her eyes, I gave her a shaky smile as new spikes of pain stabbed into my mind and body, as the mental energy I used was like sandpaper running over irritated skin.


    And this wasn''t a light brush, either. The sandpaper was really being taken to town as if trying to reach my bones.


    Ignoring my pain, my eyes flicked to the side at a sudden burst of motion.


    As I took in the legionaries walking out of the water, unleashing their powers on the gathered beastkin, I smiled, saying, "Knights."


    Sathera looked at me blankly before her head slowly turned, taking in the knights on the banks of the Rush. She whispered something I could not hear before letting out a sigh of relief and slumping forward.


    I could not tell if she was awake or asleep, but I would guess she was awake. How could someone stay upright with their shoulders slumped forward while sitting on their heels, legs folded under them?


    That would take¡­ not so much skill as luck. I guess it could be skill, but who would practice it? I mean, Darell did practice falling asleep with a mug of ale in his hand so he could wake up to a drink. But that''s something completely different. At least you can throw the mug into someone''s face if they attack during the night. What''s the benefit of falling asleep kneeling? In that light, Darell''s stupid skill was reasonable. Wonder if Sathera would be embarrassed if I asked her how long she practiced.


    Silence descended upon the raft, the grunts of effort and splashing behind stopping as everyone looked past our little raft in a daze.


    I joined them in blankly staring, but more because the relief of my mind not exploding was wearing off, and now I had all my other pains, plus feeling like my insides were stretched out. As if I had eaten a meal for five people and then threw it all up. I was just¡­ hollow.


    I threw a half-hearted look over my shoulder, looking at the dozen legionaries on the raft with me. Their faces said it all. They didn''t entirely believe what was happening.


    Given how beaten down and worn out they all looked, I could guess how tired they must be. Though I had no idea how long they had been running while carrying me, given the fact the last thing I remembered was it being daytime, looking at everyone from the center of¡ª


    A shudder ran through my body at the line of thought. Memories of excruciating pain exploded into my mind, causing my body to break out in a cold sweat and start trembling.


    I sat on the raft, the cold waters of the river lapping at my legs, but I barely felt it. Looking at but not really watching the figures fighting on shore, the light of the fire overhead faded. With every second, I regained a little bit more control of myself, suppressing the full-body shudders wracking me into hardly a shake in my hand.


    With implacable efficiency, the beastkins on shore were slaughtered. Every swing of a knight bisected one or more beastkin. When they grouped up, a casting would scatter their numbers.


    The only one I could see that put up a fight was the beastkin who threw fireballs around, and even I could tell the fireballs were feeble things. Exhaustion was clutching onto his spells as much, if not more than those on the raft.


    When a knight bisected that beastkin, a small vindictive cheer rose up around me. One filled with so much emotion I wondered if I was in a mental link for a moment.


    Before the last of the beastkin were cut down, two figures walked out onto the river''s surface like it was any other street in the Republic. One was a Knight Aqua, allowing them to walk on water, and the other was a Knight Ignis and Terra.


    I could not see anything about the water knight, as their helmet was on, but the other was helmetless, and I recognized him. If only from legend and story, if not person.


    How could I not? Every youth of my generation grew up looking at his face in the papers, wishing to be a knight.


    Brackus, the Molten Man, is talked about even now. My father even told me how he fought alongside him for a time.


    I vaguely remember hearing rumors of him taking up a teaching position at the tribune school outside the walls of the south fort. I guess they were right.


    The older man walked up to the raft and looked at all of us huddled on its logs. Blood spattered and half-drowned, we were falling asleep even now, finally given a moment where constant danger wasn''t keeping us awake.


    His eyes held no scorn or pity, only understanding and expectation. Of course, we were alive and fighting our way back. What other reality could there be?


    Taking the initiative, he slammed his fist to the chest in a salute, then said in a surprisingly mellow tone, "Glad to see the reports of all the scouts being wiped out were false. What do you have to report?"

 Chapter 52

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    We followed Areekail onto the cracked ground, and it was as if we had entered another world. A dead world composed of oppressive heat and choking dust.


    Within a dozen feet of walking in this new world, smoke rose from the soles of our shoes, and every breath burned in our chests. Then, The High King waved his hand, and the heat vanished as if it was never there.


    As he looked around at what he had wrought, his face was one of grief. His eyes were filled with a sorrow so deep that it seemed to hang over his shoulders like a mantle, visibly aging his face.


    I had never seen the High King looking so¡­ mortal. As we walked across the scorched plains, heading towards the scared citadel ¡ª a building so large that standing at its base would blot out the sun ¡ª his appearance continued to change before my eyes, the mantle fully settling into Areekail''s flesh.


    Looking back into my memory, I know that nothing changed. The reality remained the same. He was as youthful as any man in the prime of life and more beautiful than any human or half-human that appeared before me.


    Even though I know nothing actually changed, I still remember his appearance as one of an old man. Decades of a harsh, uncompromising life slammed down on the elf, and a decrepit, hunched figure was now riding the horse.


    The humans murmured in surprise, but the elves in our procession only looked upon their High King with guilt and shame in their eyes.


    **********


    I listened to Celeste give a report to the Knight Commander. Apparently, Vlore''s team was sent out as pickets to track the advance of the beastkin. They were hardly in their lookout positions for more than a few hours before they were ambushed.


    Their mental link was partially disrupted, so she didn''t know what happened to the others, but she reported that she could faintly feel extreme pain and fear while they were trying to regroup and fall back to the Triad. Before anyone got close enough to send a message to her, she was knocked unconscious.


    No way that worm Vlore died, I thought, a small smile spreading across my lips. If Celeste was here without him, he wasn''t in the cages. So he is either back at the Triad¡­ Or hiding in a hole in the ground. He should feel right at home.


    Then Celeste got what she deserved while she sat in a cage and starved for the last few days while they built the¡­ spell circle. Which is nothing.


    Forcing the dark thoughts from my mind, I focused on the entertainment of Celeste getting water and some hard bread for meals while I poked at my broken nose.


    The pain of prodding my nose must have put some heat into my stare because her eyes flicked to me for a moment. I thought I saw a tightening of her shoulders and a slight flush of embarrassment on her cheeks.


    That sight almost made getting a broken nose worth it. Almost.


    Though I could have been wrong about the flushing, as my eyes were focused on the bricks she called hands. Those weapons were dangerous.


    It wasn''t like my nose hadn''t been broken before, but with my elven features, the signs of a broken nose were particularly noticeable. My people just can''t pull off the old veteran look. I thought in disappointment, thinking of all the old grizzled centurions walking around. There was definitely a look that could only get by combining age and a hard life.


    Elves looked basically the same as they aged ¡ª the only real change being their hair graying and some notable wrinkles around the eyes, which only added a feeling of graceful elegance ¡ª until they shriveled up like a raisin in the last couple of decades of life.


    Centuries of aging, all forced into a few years. Really not much to be complaining about, but I won''t be a legionary if I don''t find something to bitch about.


    Focusing back on what Celeste was saying, I listened to her briefly describe arriving at the beastkin fort and joining the other captured scouts, then watching the fish and 1st turma arrive, and finally, my trainees and me.


    Then she talked about the spell and what it was supposed to do. Even while she was talking about me, she couldn''t stop the compassion ¡ª and disgust at what the spell was doing ¡ª from leaking into and dripping off her words.


    Because it wasn''t just me. It was a spell ¡ª whatever that entails ¡ª perfected by hundreds of test subjects in the past.


    Hundreds of Olimpians tortured to death, their souls ripped from mortal flesh.


    Unease and outright disbelief at her words were plain to see on the knights. I even felt them probe my mind to verify the statement. All I could do was nod, struggling to contain the memories bubbling.


    Then Celeste told them of our escape and the second army sailing and marching down the river, whose vanguard was still chasing us.


    "This changes things," the knight aqua said, having taken off her helmet.


    After a moment, the Knight Commander spoke, "Not as much as you would think. We still have to do our mission, and now we know more beastkin are coming. And our message never reached Cross."


    "What is your mission," Celeste hesitantly asked, "If it''s not too much to ask, Sir."


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    "You all had quite the journey. Almost made it too. Go around the next bend, and the Triad is twenty minutes away." The Molten Man said, not answering the question and looking down the river. "If you listen, you can hear their war drums beating even now. They haven''t started their attack, but it will begin soon. While saving a legionary is always a pleasure, we acted only because you and your pursuers posed a risk to our operation. Alerting them to a potential threat from behind before the assault begins could ruin our ambush."


    I thought about it briefly before saying, "The boats."


    He nodded in acknowledgment of my insight, "Correct, they pose too great of a threat to the Triad. Our aqua knights can detect the barges on the river, but even they can''t say how many or where exactly they are. Whatever castings the beastkins are using, we cannot fully pierce it. When the veil drops, we will come from behind, destroy their towers, and slip away."


    His eyes flicked to shore, where the other knights were walking to the edge of the forest. Behind them were the bodies of beastkin, and I knew he was considering leaving us on the shore.


    "Give us weapons, and we won''t slow you down, Brackus." Said a weak but confident voice. Looking over, I saw Markus sitting up on his elbows, his eyes sunken but burning with conviction.


    "Never thought you would, Markus." Said the knight with a fierce smile. "I was just¡­ putting together a new plan. The Legion never leaves a man behind."


    "Yeah," Markus said in a wry voice, slightly smiling back, "but sometimes a man chooses to remain behind."


    Brackus''s smile turned more into a showing of teeth, "The Legion can''t help what individuals choose."


    **********


    Kanieta stood with her two attendants in the shadows of a tree, watching Green and the others on the raft interact with two knights.


    The rest of the knights were on shore, gathering gear from the dead Crescent Moon Faction wolves and forming up into four-man squads. A couple of knights took the equipment out to the raft, then the nailed-together logs zipped off down the river at several times the speed as before.


    At the same time, some of the two dozen knights disappeared into the forest before turning towards the fortress, while the others moved along the shoreline, pacing the raft.


    As the knights moved away, the bodies of the dead sank into the ground, the grass and leaf-coved soil peeling back and closing back up like it had never been disturbed.


    Seconds passed into minutes, and still, Kanieta did not let her cousin or guard speak. Any time they even so much as moved, a whip of shadow would lash at their necks.


    And if they let out a whimper of pain, a second whip would strike them. They were too confident in her ¡ª and their own ¡ª powers.


    Kanieta saw the strength of the Olimpians, and while in many ways their magic was greater, it did not mean the Olimpians didn''t have just as many benefits of their own.


    She would not underestimate the Olimpians.


    Minutes passed, and eventually, she felt her cousin jump in surprise to the right. Looking left slowly, Kanieta saw a man already chest high, rising from the ground.


    There was no sound to signify the man''s appearance from one second to the next. Once entirely out of the ground, the crouched man gave a long look around the nighttime forest before stalking off downstream without leaving a spot to mark their passage. Kanieta got the feeling from watching the knight that he was not entirely relying on his eyes to search for enemies.


    And she would be disappointed if the knight was.


    Even when she could not see the legion knight, she waited.


    Finally deciding it was time, Kanieta pulled the shadows back like the leaves of a flower, slowly breaking her spell and dropping them a half inch to the ground.


    A tree that you could not even see its trunk a moment ago ¡ª due to the particularly dark shadows cast by the low-hanging boughs ¡ª suddenly birthed three kin.


    Without checking to see if the other two were following, she took off towards the river at the fastest pace she thought Hurring could manage. Bears were not known for their speed, after all.


    "Keep up or swim," Kanieta said over her shoulder with an amused tone.


    Leaping over the water, she formed a disk of shadow under her foot before leaping again, leaving behind the disk for those who followed.


    Shadows were not meant to be solid or even permanent. What shadow outside of a cave was ever constant? And even there, bring light into the darkness, and the shadows dance.


    While there was truth to the statement that a mage is only limited by how much mana they can gather and their beliefs and imagination, unless you were completely insane, there were some undeniable truths to the world.


    A truth like shadows not being solid. And while Kanieta could make shadows solid, to a certain extent, it costs significantly more mana. And that costs increased the longer she wanted the spell to stay stable.


    There were also two other people jumping on the shadow disks, causing her to infuse more mana into the spell.


    With every leap she took, Kanieta rapidly burned through her mana, causing sweat to appear on her forehead and her breathing to pick up.


    Nearing the shore, a smile twitched at her lips. While Kanieta would make it across the river without getting wet, the two behind her could not be so certain.


    Nareta, sticking to the tips of her tails, probably knew this. Wouldn''t be the first time I dropped her into the water on¡­ accident. Amusement rolled off her at the thought.


    As Kanieta gracefully landed on the shore, panting slightly at the mana she expended, she turned in time to see Nareta leap into the air and use a small blast of fire to throw herself over the last shadow disk. Clever girl.


    Kanieta smirked at her cousin, who returned the look. She then turned to watch in amusement as Hurring''s foot sunk into the soft disk, causing his footing to fumble and his jump to become a fall into the water.


    Not giving the large kin time to climb out of the water, Kanieta ran off into the forest on the northern side of the river.


    It wasn''t long before a suspiciously straight-faced Nareta and scowling Hurring caught up. Using most of her mana in that rush had taken more out of Kanieta than she thought.


    The three shadowy forms flickered through the forest, picking up the pace when Kanieta''s mana recharged.


    Within ten minutes, they had skirted around a few scouts and patrols and appeared at the edge of the forest, looking at the distant walls and warband formed outside the walls.


    "Hurring," Kanieta said, "pretend to be a scout and report to the Redtail Chieftains. Tell them to focus on the walls and let the Crescent Moon Faction assault the bridge. Tell them not to push too hard; we don''t want that many casualties before we take the fortress."


    "If they ask, where will you be, Chieftain?" Hurring asked, fully turning to look at her.


    A secretive smile spread over Kanieta''s lips, "With the mages, of course."


    "As you command.¡± Hurring slowly said as he turned, ¡°¡­Your tails look particularly¡­ fiery this night, Chieftain."


    A pealing laugh sounded at his words, and Kanieta''s eyes widened in horror. Whirled around, she frantically smacked at the tip of her smoldering tail.

 Chapter 53

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    No one said a word as we approached the gates of the citadel. At first, we were silent because of the weight pressing down on our minds.


    It was not mental power but the simple expectation of thousands. The atmosphere turned increasingly solemn the closer to the gates we came.


    And when we arrived, we came to a stop looking up at the mural carved onto the doors.


    Three groups of figures were carved into the bottom sections of the gates. One was tall and thin, the second was muscular, and the third was smaller than the rest. In the center of the three groups, one coming from a forest, one from an unending city, and the last from the mountains, were three individuals standing together.


    Above all the figures in the background stretched a tree covering the majority of the fifty-foot gate. Its branches reached into the walls beyond the gates.


    We stopped before the gates, and a wave of regret exploded from High King Areekail. Even though the sun was high in the sky, the world turned dark, and breathing almost didn''t seem worth the effort. Like it was better to lie down and die.


    After a while, High King Areekail spoke, his words resounding in the air with power. "We built these citadels, this city, to be the greatest achievement of our race. And yet, all it is now is a testament to our eternal sin. An act that will forever stain our souls, even as it was an act of redemption."


    **********


    Most of my attention was focused on my grip as I tried to ignore the water splashing my face and slipping into my handholds, making them slick. The increasingly intense burn in my forearms as I squeezed the roughly hacked-out wood was not helping.


    It wasn''t like I was riding the log while desperately trying to stay on through a section of rapids, either. I was slowly bobbing on the river, with the other logs that made up the raft floating around me, some of which had multiple passengers clinging to them, like mine.


    We weren''t even moving yet, as we were waiting for the beastkin attack on the Triad to start. Which was super annoying, as the flowing water splashed me more often! And I couldn''t even complain about it. I mentally grumbled to myself.


    The others were far more exhausted than me, and none of them were saying or sending a word of complaint in the mental network. A reasonable fear that they would be left on the shore for beastkin to find may have been keeping the not-so-fish fish quiet. What should I call them now? They arn¡ª


    The beat of the beastkin drums changed, and my heart started racing in expectation.


    My head snapped up as I forgot my little game of trying to keep my head an inch above the shifting surface of the water without it going up my nose. And if anyone asked, I was winning.


    Looking at the distant walls of the Triad and its bridges, I saw¡­ the siege towers slowly moving forward.


    Eyes sweeping across the sunstone-lit battlements of the closest forts and the armies outside the walls illuminated by the distant bursts of fire, I searched for activity. As seconds passed with nothing happening, I felt my body begin to shake and a hollow feeling in my gut.


    "Calm," Said a mental voice sending out waves of relaxation and patients. "We still have a while to wait. Go over every piece of your equipment. If you already have, focus on your part in the plan, and stay relaxed."


    The words helped, but my hands tightened and loosened on the log as I tried to stop my body from shaking as I came down from the rush of adrenalin.


    Try as I might, I could not return to my previous forced indifference. The beat of the beastkin war drums was too loud in my ears, mirroring my heart.


    I was unarmored, barely armed, and exhausted. The only point in my favor was the knights fed us.


    But that does not change the fact I am¡­ broken. I haven''t looked into myself and actively avoided doing so, but I can feel the truth. Something was off. Different.


    The pulse I released nearly knocked me unconscious with information overload. It was like, for a moment, I could see every piece of the world. Like I had a perception sphere covering the entire river¡­


    More than that, my tendril was¡­ too strong. I was trying to knock the stone into the river, not smash it into dust. I couldn''t trust my own powers.


    And that was nothing compared to my mental aversion to using them. At the moment, pulling mental energy from my core was like snorting chili powder, a burning lava tearing its way through my body.


    With all that, I was still better off than the others.


    The time of our probable death was steadily approaching. We had better odds than running through the forest, but that did not change the grim reality.


    My eyes stung as I held them open, watching the steady progress of the towers before sliding them to the empty river running between the Triad. Only to grate back the other way a moment later.


    I knew the river barges existed. I saw them. It was not a dream.


    We would have been killed if the raft had passed the boats during the day or night. So the boats had to be in front of us.


    And yet, there was nothing to see on the river.


    I could see figures on the walls of the Middle Fort, and they weren''t acting concerned.


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    If they saw a bowl-shaped hollow in the water, I had to think they would do something about it. And there was also the wake of the boats in the water and the sounds those on board were making, but no one did a thing. Like there was nothing to notice.


    Because, to every sense, the boats didn''t exist.


    Watching the steady advance of the beastkin, I could not help my body from tensing.


    Then the siege towers stopped, and I hoped they would turn around and leave. There was no reasoning behind the daydream, but it still burned in my heart.


    Dashing my fantasies, the ground before the walls of the Northern and Western Forts rose halfway up their length in a matter of seconds, and the hoards of beastkin charged forward as the drums rapidly pounded in my ears a moment later.


    "Hold on." said a voice with calm resolve in my head.


    It took a moment or two before I processed the words and looked away from the charging beastkin. When the log lurched forward, my hands clamped down on instinct, keeping me in place.


    What met my gaze as I looked into the growing wind was not what I expected.


    The water ripped by below, my right leg skimming the surface as the log reached a speed a couple times faster than a sprinting man.


    It''s not enough, I thought.


    Trying to keep my leg out of the water and prevent drag, I lifted my body with my left leg hooked over the log, but I could not get it all the way clear as my leg kept on slipping. Water whipping by, I felt the water tearing at my pants leg, skating over the water.


    My muscles burned, the water spray was like needles, and the bark bit into my skin, but it was just discomfort. And discomfort was nothing to a legionary.


    The beastkin had done far more than I had thought possible. More than anyone would think possible. And finally, after all of their surprises, the beastkin resembled the swarms told in legends.


    Streams of flesh charging forward. The only difference was these streams were following a path that ignored our defenses. That''s a pretty big difference, though.


    As their armies assaulted the walls of the Northern and Western Forts, a couple hundred yards past the walls, a line of beastkin were running off the banks of the river into the water.


    Except they weren''t.


    It was like looking into a thick fog, but instead of a wall of white, it was not existing at all and faintly visible.


    The beastkin were running onto flat-top barges on both sides of the river. They were basically hulls wide and deep enough to remain stable as hundreds ran over their decks.


    Which was exactly what was happening.


    How they built the number of barges needed to span the distance between hundreds of feet outside the walls, paralleling the walls on shore until they reached the heart of the Triad ¡ª and doing all that while moving them into position without anyone knowing ¡ª was beyond me.


    I thought it would be the few ships I saw packed to bursting. A few hundred beastkin ¡ª maybe a thousand ¡ª assaulting the walls of the Middle Fort. Even if the beastkin took the fort with the help of their magic, we could come swooping back in, taking it right back.


    But the last of my hope vanished as a ripple ran through the shell hiding the river barges from sight. I could see the boats running all the way to the Middle Fort for an instant.


    Thousands charged forward along the boats, ready to capitalize on any opening those in of them might make.


    Two pillars of water rose up from the water, hovering above the walls before plunging forward. I could hear the echoes of the crash over the increasing roar of battle and wind in my ears.


    The wind slashed at my eyes, but I would not look away. I watched every second as the ladders rose and fell onto the bridges, already packed with beastkin.


    All I could do was believe the legionaries would hold. That the defenders would not be overrun until we cut off the beastkin''s advance.


    From the corners of my eyes, the land was flashing by faster than the time I rode a galloping horse. And yet, minutes were steadily ticking by.


    The beastkin were rushing up the length of the ladder, arrows were flying, and we were still traveling.


    Move faster! I raged within my mind holding onto the log as the knights pushed it forward.


    Finally, the drop-off, demarking the change from the grasslands to the river, vanished. In its place were the slightly fading in and out-of-sight shapes of the boats as we slid past them one after another.


    We might not have the magic to stand an arm''s reach of the beastkin and remain invisible, but good old darkness and miss perceptions worked just as well. No one looked for what they assumed didn''t exist, and with the lights, flashes of fire, and lighting bursting to life over the area, creating plenty of dark shadows, even their night vision will take a hit.


    A hundred yards into the double line of boats, I heard the sound of wood cracking. It was like a bolt of lightning struck behind me, but no light lit up the sky.


    Another and another cracking sound rang out, and my lips parted in a cold smile.


    I imagined the beastkin running across the barges as five-foot sections of two feet in diameter logs smashed into the boats at the water line. Logs that were going even faster than I currently was.


    The barges would buck to the side from the impact, throwing beastkin into the river towards shore before settling back the other way as the mortal wound in the hull let the water rush in. Those in the boat might make it to the next, and even the ones who go down with the ship won''t drown, but the flood of feral beastkin to the ladders would be decreased to a trickle.


    Continuing down the line of ships, more sounds of braking wood sounded for a few more seconds, then it all stopped. I still heard the thumps and cracking of logs, but the smaller but still noticeable cracks of the boards of the boats were gone. Or so small that I didn''t notice.


    I did not look back, but I could guess the beastkin erected some kind of barrier to protect the boats. Because the slightly fuzzy air around the ships vanished.


    For a moment, I thought I saw figures on the wall pointing down at the river.


    Whatever the beastkin did, it was too late. I could not say how many of the boats sank, but I would bet my life some had, and with the boats went their pressure.


    The beastkin might know someone had spotted and attacked them, but they were not yet looking at the water. Even if someone looked over the railing right now, they would be too late again.


    "Brace yourself." Send a feminine voice in my head. My body tensed on impulse, but in the moment before the knight acted, I let my body go limp. The crossed belts over my chest were yanked backward and up, flinging my body into the air.


    Holding my hands to the sides, I kept my body balanced as I watched the water ten feet below. Then my feet slipped over the deck railing, clearing it by less than a foot, as I landed with a crouch. To my sides were a dozen others, most of whom were on the raft with me, the rest being knights.


    I was already pulling out the spear strapped to my back, "Duck."


    Not questioning the command, I dropped to my stomach. A moment later, the log I was riding sailed over my head, smashing into the beastkin that had started to turn towards us, teeth bared.


    The log did not completely clear the deck, but only a few dozen beastkin remained of the hundred on deck a second before.


    Not stopping, I watched the log swig up, then come crashing down off the flat-top river barge behind ours, slamming through the deck and out the bottom.


    The beastkin on the barge with us had looks of shock at the sudden turn of events, and I could see them hesitating to act.


    Bared my teeth as I got up, pulled out my spear, and charged them before they could regain their senses.

 Chapter 54

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    The High King said no more, only staring forlornly at the walls, none of the other elves answering the questions in our eyes. With a wave of his hand, the doors of the fortress broke open, and the spell of silence cast over our crowd was broken.


    Not that anyone answered our questions, as the elves were busy murmuring to their Ancestor, begging for forgiveness, entering the gates like a funeral procession.


    At the head was the unchanged Areekail, looking more like a living corpse at every step. As we walked past the gates, his appearance sitting on the horse only became more hunched.


    We wound through the hundred-foot section of the wall that had sharp turns every ten feet and small inner gates to hinder an attacker. Finally, we came to a T-junction, which required our formation to break up and move through the smaller ¡ª but still objectively large ¡ª passages to the right and left of a wall. We walked around the stone blocking the path before reconnecting on the other side, where we could see daylight at the end of a short tunnel.


    Coming out of the fortification, we entered a bowl of dust.


    Desiccated trees and bushes were nothing more than twigs sticking out of piles of loose dirt.


    For miles within the tall walls, all one could see were the remnants of what must have once been a beautiful forest.


    The citadel was in the center of it all, on a slight incline. While its central dome and five surrounding towers were still standing, the walls were marked with conflict.


    Hardly a stone of the inner wall surrounding the citadel was standing.


    **********


    As I was taking my second step, the squad leader of the knights spoke, "Clear the boat."


    Before the words were finished, Three figures flashed by me. They plowed through the loosely packed beastkin, slashing out with swords before sweeping towards the downstream end of the river barge.


    Bodies dropped to the wood in their wake, leaving the handful of beastkin still alive after their quick pass for us ordinary legionaries to deal with. And honestly, them clearing off most of the deck was more than I thought they would do.


    Quickly traveling the distance to my new target, I pulled my spear back and thrust it forward. The seconds it took to sprint over the deck was not much, but it was long enough for the beastkin to come out of their shock.


    My thrust was met with nothing but air and the flashing of teeth as the beastkin swayed to the side. Stepping forward before I could move my spear back into a defensive stance, the beastkin swung his club up from his right side, aiming to smash me in the ribs.


    Pushing off my forward foot, I created distance by dancing to the right while leaning away. At the same time, I gave a weak slash of my spear at the beastkin''s face as he turned to keep track of me.


    The worst my attack would do was cause a scratch on his cheek and perhaps puncture an eye if I was really lucky, but that was not the point. The beastkin jerked his head back, further throwing off his attack, making the club brush past my clothes.


    Distracted by me, the beastkin could not react as the two not-really-fish fish rushing forward buried their spears into the beastkin''s side.


    Roaring in pain, the beastkin tried to spin and face his enemies, swinging his arm at the shafts of the spears as if to break them, but the wood was strong, as it absorbed the impact with ease. And his face only had the smallest of twitches from any pain he felt.


    But the strength of a weapon mattered little when the user was¡­ a fish.


    One of the fish leaned back in fear of the beastkin and lost his footing, and fell to the deck. The other lost her grip on the spear''s shaft when the beastkin spun and struck it with his arm, causing the shaft to hit her in the gut, knocking her back a step to trip over her partner.


    "Yep, that''s more like the fish we all know and tolerate," I muttered as I stepped forward again, thrusting my spear.


    Burying the tip of my spear in the beast''s throat, I stepped back, twisting the shaft and whipping it to the side, making the wound gush out blood as I tore out half of his throat.


    Turning to look around, I found the barge''s deck clear of all but two living beastkin, and Celeste and Gurth were finishing off those two even now as they twisted their spears, driving them down into the beastkin''s chests.


    I looked around the hundred-foot long and twenty-foot wide deck of the river barge, seeing the bodies of beastkin. Most of the bodies had gaping slashes cut into their chests, as the knights had dealt with them before leaving to head downstream.


    The knights had their own objectives, which did not include protecting us.


    I looked to the west, seeing the now fully visible lines of boats stretching up the river. The rear of our ship had thick ropes anchored at the edges of the deck by looping through the holes drilled through thick posts. Both ropes were going over the railing and straight into the water.


    While I could not see what they were still attached to, I could see what was left of the ship they used to be connected to. The boat in the link behind us looked like it was missing the front twenty feet, and water was pouring into the empty hull.


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    Behind the ship were dozens more barges ¡ª with occasional gaps ¡ª packed with beastkin, watching us with looks of rage. Ignoring the unimportant fur-balls, I looked east.


    It was like you lined a bunch of grapes up in multiple lines, then dropped a plank of wood along the center and lifted it up.


    Looking down the line of destruction, I saw the blood of the beastkins spreading, spilling over the sides of the decks. The were only two barges before the tower barges, but seeing a line of death across both of them was creepy.


    The sides of the barges still had living beastkin, but the center of the barges was only the dead.


    Then the fifty other beastkin on the next deck looked towards me, and my eyes widened in fear.


    "Cut the lines!" Shouted Markus in my mind.


    Lurching forward, I stumbled over the scattered weapons on deck, looking for one with a long edge. I guess hanging onto your weapons isn''t important when smacked in the face with a log.


    I wasn''t the only one who received the message, as all twelve of us moved towards the prow of the ship.


    Tirre was still alive, if unconscious, and the knights left him at the railing of our commandeered barge. The other eleven were wounded and exhausted to various degrees but, with the help of the knights, could rest for a few hours, regaining some much-needed energy.


    We won''t be able to hold the line and fight all day, but we should be able to take this ship out of the beastkins'' road and move it into the center of the river. It was an actually useful task, as we would give the knights somewhere to fall back to.


    Most of them couldn''t fly, and leaping up the walls of the Triad in the middle of battle was a waste of mental energy if they could do it at all.


    Spotting a legion short sword among all the weapons on deck, I slowed for a moment to reach down and grab its hilt as a line of fire ran over my back.


    Collapsing to the side as alarm focused at me shot through the network, I hit the deck with my left side before rolling towards the center of the river.


    I heard a thunk of metal into the wood behind me, adding new urgency to my evasion.


    Finishing my second or third roll, I planted one hand and spun, getting my feet under me. My other hand was fumbling to grab the haft of a spear I saw to the side.


    Looking up, I faced where the network said the danger was.


    Three beastkin were at the southwestern railing of the river barge. One of them was climbing over the railing while the others were reaching down for loose spears.


    Rising to my feet and cocking my arm back, I threw the spear at the beastkin.


    The thrown spear had hardly made it out of my hand before the stick got cockeyed and started flipping through the air and then over the deck. I knew something was wrong when releasing the spear and suspected it when I first lifted it up. It just didn''t feel right in my hand. But I was already committed at that point and was hoping for the best.


    That''s what I get for hoping. I Thought in mild despair at the failed attack.


    As the spear made its first rotation, I saw the problem. A foot back from the tip, the shaft was partly broken at a fifty-degree angle.


    Without a straight shaft, I had no chance of wounding, let alone killing, anything.


    Not taking my eyes off the advancing beastkin, even while my spear tumbled forward, I moved to where I saw a flash of metal on the deck.


    "Arrg!" Screamed a blood-chilling voice, causing my eyes to flick to the noise for a moment. I saw a beastkin who had poked their head over the railing.


    It was only for a moment that I got to see what happened, but it caused me to snort in amusement and my lips to twitch.


    The spear flipping butt over tip had continued forward over the deck and flipped at just the right angle for the skewed tip to stab into the eye of a beastkin.


    As the beastkin reached for his head, his body fell backward off the ship.


    Amusing as the sight was, it did not stop me from reaching down for the blade, but it did cause me to hesitate for an instant.


    That was all that was needed.


    One of the beastkin on deck had charged towards me, mouth slightly parted to show fangs, clawed hands stretched forward.


    Dropping the blade I had just begun to wrap my fingers around, I rolled onto my back, kicking my right leg out.


    My attempt to kick the beastkin over my head ended when my unstraightened leg connected with the full weight of the charging beastkin.


    Grunting in pain, my left leg was driven to my chest as the beastkin''s splayed hands reached towards my face.


    The force of his fall caused us to turn to the side, and we ended up lying on the deck facing each other in some kind of twisted mockery of lovers.


    Hands snapping up, I grabbed his closest wrist, my whole upper body straining as his claws inched forward.


    Feet scrabbling on the deck, I spun my body until I could kick at his legs, knocking out his base and forcing all his weight onto his other arm.


    Arching my back, I kicked my legs up and wrapped them around the arm, locking my ankles above the beastkin''s shoulder. Throwing my whole body into the motion, I kept my hands locked onto his hand while twisting.


    The beastkin''s hand was shaking as I forced it to turn outward as far as possible, locking it in place.


    Turning my head, I looked at the beastkin, smirking at him as I arched my whole body.


    My body started to strain from the effort, and my smirk became brittle as the beastkin''s eyes narrowed in annoyance. It was like I was a child fighting my father again.


    His arm pressed me into the ground for a moment as he repositioned himself before he lifted me into the air above his head with only his one arm.


    The beastkin grunted, and my back was slammed into the deck. The air was driven out of me from the impact, and I let out a low moan of pain, but I did not let go.


    Letting go meant death.


    Again, I was lifted into the air. And with all of my meager strength, I flexed. All that happened was a slight grunt of annoyance from below.


    Eye twitching from a message, I lessoned my efforts to hyperextend the bastard''s arm. Back hitting the deck, I let go of the arm with a cry of pain, my arms and legs flopping to the sides in supposed defeat.


    The beastkin''s arm stayed where I locked it to my chest a moment ago, fingers curling, digging nails into my skin.


    He rose above me, his left hand coming for my throat, his lips pulled back as he grinned victoriously.


    Two spears drove through his back and out his chest, his eyes looking down in shock. Reaching up, I pushed the dying beastkin to the side.


    Something caught my eye at the movement, and my eye twitched in more annoyance. Reaching over and grabbed the short sword a foot to my right before getting to my feet. Looking at the fish who managed to thrust properly this time ¡ª if a few seconds slower than I would have wished ¡ª I nodded in thanks. Then I tilted my chin towards the shore side of the barge with beastkin coming over it and said, "Support that side."


    Moving toward the front of the boat, I went to assist the legionaries trying to cut the ropes while holding off those beastkin leaping from the downstream ship.

 Chapter 55

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    As we traveled to the center of the citadel, more signs of conflict were all around us. Half-standing walls and trenches filled the once garden.


    One thing became abundantly clear to us, a massive battle had raged within these walls.


    The outside face of the wall, while marked and scarred to a degree, was brand new compared to the desolation inside the walls.


    Again, a silence settled onto us, and we took in what was.


    The world around us shimmered, and instead of broken stumps and a few finger-sized twigs left over from a long dead bush, there was a lush garden.


    Everywhere we looked were grass fields and flower-lined paths. The trees bore fruit, ripe and ready to be picked, and were being picked by children.


    Elven children ran across the grass, laughing and playing with each other, or sat on blankets with their parents eating and relaxing in the afternoon.


    It was paradise.


    Then the world flashed before us, and the trees were charred to stumps, the crass burned to the ground, and the bushes stripped for the leaves.


    In the place of the joyful children were countless elves, females and males alike, fighting brutally to the death. The rain of blood did nothing to bring back life to the dying garden.


    **********


    My steps were fast, nearly getting up to a jog, but I could not say I was quite there. The weariness deep in my bones was too much. If I got up to a jog, there was a genuine concern in the back of my mind that stopping would plant me on my face.


    Still, I covered the thirty feet to the prow in moments. Without saying anything, I stepped up to the two-inch-in-diameter rope and brought my sword down on the rough cordage.


    The strike might have gotten past the surface. Maybe a few strands deep if I squint and turn my head to the side.


    "Fucking cut!" I grunted as I lifted my blade from the suddenly loose rope and brought it down again. This time I planted my feet and used my whole body to add to the force of my strike as I brought my arms down.


    My lips twitched as I saw my blade sink halfway into the rope, then the smile vanished as the rope stretched as it tightened.


    Stumbling forward, my hands stung as the handle of my sword was ripped from my grip. I watched in horror as the blade spun around the rope until it smashed into the deck.


    The pummel hit the wood so hard that it left an indent. For a long breath, I looked at the sword, waiting to see if my luck was so bad the handle or blade would break from the impact.


    Sighing in relief, I knelt lower, reaching for it, only for my head to snap up as an alarm filled the mental network.


    A dome of white surrounded the tower barge leading to the bridge on the northern side of the river. I had no time to act, as the moment I looked at the dome, it exploded.


    I felt the cold depths of winter strike me in the face causing my skin to go numb and my eyelids to grow heavy. Quickly, I raised my hand to shelter my squinting eyes from the piercing wind.


    When it stopped, I moved my hand and looked at a land of ice.


    The air glittered with the sunstone''s reflected light as frozen water droplets floated through the air. A layer of frost was on the deck of the boats, and the river itself was a dark sheet of ice.


    Beneath my feet, the deck rocked, and the creaking of strained wood and ice echoed off the walls of the Triad as thunder rumbled overhead.


    My eyes flicked to the motion breaking the stillness that filled the surroundings after the burst of cold. On the decks of the tower barges, the knights and mage beastkin fought.


    The barges glowed a shimmering blue, and even as a knight slammed an armored fist or stopped a foot into the tower or ship, they could do no damage to the structure.


    I could only see one knight still trying to damage the structure, as the rest were trying to kill the beastkins radiating mana by standing in glowing circles or having blue light shine from their skin. I thought I could see shockwaves from the blurring speed and impacts of the fighters.


    Everyone still alive on the ships was moving too fast to get a proper count of the number of figures, but I got the feeling that there was more beastkin than knights.


    "They''re coming over the fucking ice!" Someone shouted, snapping me out of my daze of watching the epic battle taking place a few hundred feet away.


    Taking a couple steps forward, I watched the beastkin in the ship before us begin leaping from their ship onto the frozen water. It was a good choice.


    While not that noticeable on deck, the barges had an incline to them. The prow was ten feet higher than the stern making it easier to leap from one ship to the next but nearly impossible to go back, even for the beastkin.


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    The ice had only made it worse, pushing the prow higher.


    "Hah!" Called Celeste to my right, voice laced with scorn, "Those fur faces are trapped in the ice! Serves them right!"


    Ignoring the bitch after discovering she wasn''t calling out in alarm, just showing who she really was. I continued my turn, looking back down the river¡­ and the hoards of beastkin charging in our direction.


    "Guardians protect us." I whispered before shouting, "They''re coming from behind!"


    I felt Markus focus on my words and felt the shock mirroring my own as he looked at the on-rushing beastkin. The command he was going to voice died on his lips.


    Five people could manage to hold off the beastkin when they had to leap back to our ship from the downstream ship. It''s hard to dodge a spear when hanging in the air, and these beastkin weren''t suicidal. Those coming over the back and shoreside of the boat were in a similar situation.


    Beastkin were never the best swimmers, to begin with. And the bigger they are, the worse they swim. Weighed down with gear, there was little chance they would stay above the surface.


    The few that chose to head towards us instead of the shore were coming up with nothing but their claws. Though their claws were still dangerous, even the fish could make the strike easily.


    Those that would be leaping to the deck fully armed from the ice, numbering in the hundreds? We stood no chance.


    The thought of making a run for it crossed my mind, but I quickly discarded it. I would be running toward a battle I could not join in a meaningful way. That was assuming I could outrun the beastkin, which, surprise, surprise, I can''t.


    There was a hollow thump that sounded behind me. Turning to look, I saw nothing.


    Then the river jumped as a thump sounded again, followed by cracking ice as a spider web spread over its surface.


    The looks of anticipation on the charging beastkin''s faces turned to terror, and they looked back at the nice ships they had just left in longing.


    But it was too late.


    A third thump sounded, and the faint noise of settling ice turned into cracks like thunder as the ice broke apart.


    From the center of the river ¡ª a hundred feet away ¡ª ice flew into the air as the initial spear of stone was forced from beneath the surface. The object did not stop there.


    What started as a six-foot rounded stone spike about three feet across at the base kept growing as more of the stone rose into the air. Three feet became seven, and seven became twenty as what looked more like a house with a tower on its top rose from the watery embrace of the river.


    The whole time, all that could be heard on the river was the deafening sounds of multiple-foot thick ice breaking, and the river became a slurry of ice sheets ranging from fist-sized to twenty feet across, with beastkin clawing at the water to stay afloat between them.


    Keeping my balance on the suddenly moving boat, a crack sounded that I felt through my feet more than I heard, and the barge settled into the water and started to float again.


    "Cut the fucking ropes!" Markus shouted ¡ª though no one could hear ¡ª and transmitted to everyone even as the rock wasn''t finished coming out of the water and breaking the ice.


    Looking around the deck, I leaned down, grasping the sword''s hilt, and yanked the blade from its temporary home.


    Quickly raising and lowering the sword, I slashed most of the way through the rope as it was conveniently pulled tight. Raising the sword again to finish severing the thick rope, my eyes widened in fear as more force was placed onto the line.


    "Ahh!" I screamed as a short twang cracked the air, followed by a hissing thunk. With my free hand, I reached down, clamping it onto the front of my left leg, feeling hot blood seep through my fingers.


    I could see the two sides of the rope at my feet. One was hacked apart, while the other side had frayed ends that snapped under the tension of the rocking ships.


    "Can''t even cut a rope without getting hurt?" Celeste sneered at me from the side, the other rope cleanly cut, unlike the one at my feet.


    Looking her in the eyes, I smirked before turning my back to her and looking out at the river.


    The stifled rage of me ignoring her, and turning my back, was like music to my ears.


    Actually focusing on what I was looking at after a moment of reveling, I watched the beastkin fighting for life. Most tried to use the pieces of ice as backboards as they pushed off them to speed their progress to safety. Some were climbing onto the surface of the ice sheets, trying to balance in the center. Few succeeded for long.


    The total result of everything was a mess.


    Unable to see the other side of the ice sheet, beastkin would kick or push a block of ice into one of their brethren, some of which I could see had enough force behind them to smash the skulls of beastkin. Splotches of red were everywhere on the chunks of ice.


    Turning to what mattered, I watched the house-sized rock rise into the air and move over the right-side tower barge. The rock rotated until the point was facing the river, and it moved at an angle until it was dozens of feet above the deck.


    As the rock began to fall like a falling moon, picking up speed faster than it should, a blue dome appeared around the ship.


    The tip of the stone cone was the first to impact the dome. A ring of blue expanded outward with such force that I had to take a step back.


    Even then, the rock still forced its way downward. The dome slowly collapsed inward without shattering like pressing into a taught sheet.


    Despite the movement being as slow as syrup dripping down a wall, I wasn''t deceived. Every few moments, another ring of energy would burst out from the conflict, and each one was as strong as the last, if not more so, as they pushed back the icy water, breaking it up even more.


    After what felt like hours of watching the conflict between rock and energy, the rock had more than half of itself surrounded by the blue shield. And the blue had become so dark that I could no longer see the rock or those on the deck at all.


    All at once, the sides of the blue shield exploded outward, sending out a wave along the surface of the river that was taller than the barges. Instead of being little more than a stiff gust of wind this time, the wave impacted the ships in front of me, shattering the boats into splinters and throwing the beastkin into the air.


    Halfway through the ship in front of me, the wave stopped and was sucked back in. It then surged upward in a pillar of shifting blue.


    As the light vanished, the rock, which had nearly reached the ship''s deck, was moving upward fast. It was already halfway up to the bottom of the middle fort.


    With a crack, the stone impacted the center portion of the bridge, burying itself deep into the stone before falling from the sky a moment later.


    As the stone was still falling, a figure leapt from one of the barges, slamming into the stone. Brows furrowing, I wondered what was happening, then I saw color seep into the rock.


    Lines of orange spread over the stone as it continued to fall. Then it unfolded, like a person curled in a ball standing up.


    "The Molten Man," I said in awe.

 Chapter 56

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    The elves were not all the same.


    One side of the conflict was composed entirely of the tall and refined pale-skinned elves we had known for so long. Elegance was their birthright, and even in combat and death, it remained by their sides.


    The other side was mainly composed of Elves made of muscles. They were slightly shorter than the elves of the Great Woodland and had tanned skin, but they more than made up for the difference with the width of their shoulders.


    Intermingled with the bulky elves, whose skin was colored light violet. They were a head and shorter than the other elves but significantly faster and more nimble.


    The High Elves'' ¡ª those of High King Areekails race ¡ª faces were twisted with sorrow, while the purple dark-skinned elves had looks of scorn and fury. While the two races of elves fought viciously with each other, the muscular elves fought with herculean force, shattering the ground with stomps and swings of the arm. Despite their evident strength, their swings had little conviction, acting more as obstacles for the other two forces.


    Then the vision vanished, and we were left blinking at the once more empty land. Our only option was to follow the High King with an uneasy silence up to the citadel.


    As we approached, we noticed the elves we traveled with were spreading out into the wasteland, gathering below the figures who stood on the battlements, leaving the remnants of the first legion alone in our journey.


    Eventually, we climbed to the roof of the central domed roof of the citadel. Where we walked to the railing and looked northward.


    To the horizon, spreading out between the walls the citadel anchored, was a broken city. Stone towers and buildings were everywhere. And moving on the ruins, all were what looked like swarming ants.


    It was millions upon millions of beastmen. Enough to cover the world.


    Then the High King spoke his words heavy with regret.


    **********


    I stood on the deck of the faintly rocking barge staring at the molten stone falling from the sky. My face was blank, but every childhood dream of being a knight bubbled up from the depths of my mind.


    Through my years of service, I had seen knights practice and fight plenty of times. But this was different.


    This was a childhood hero come to life, fighting forces that only existed in the oldest stories, forces that no one ¡ª but the beastkin apparently ¡ª could bring to life.


    The Molten Man fell from the sky, chunks of liquid rock trailing behind his form like stars burning in the roiling clouds above.


    A blue dome flickered to life around the tower barge on the southern side of the Rush, but it was a pale imitation of the last shield as it was hardly tinting the area within blue. It was like a sheet of paper compared to a book.


    As the burning rock struck the barrier, the flair of blue mana that rose up in opposition to the rock was barely enough to ruffle a strand of my hair.


    And before the burning armor around Brackus could sink more than the length of its forearm into the blue shield ¡ª but was still multiple feet ¡ª the shield shattered. This time there was no explosion of energy before it all surged inward again.


    The superheated fist ripped apart the barrier, leading the way for the rest of the smoldering figure to smash onto the barge''s deck. Even with a gaping hole, the blue dome held for long seconds before breaking into slivers of shimmering power that dissipated into blue sparks.


    While the shield was failing, the Molten Man, covered in his burning armor, crashed to the deck on the close side of the tower in the center.


    The barge was forced several feet into the water before bobbing back up, sending out a wave that pushed back the ice migrating down the river and rocking the boat under my feet.


    Like the impact of a multi-ton burning rock was nothing, the tower barge remained undamaged. The most I could say happened was the blue glow that bled from the wood pulse brighter for an instant before falling to a slightly lower output of light than before.


    Brackus stayed where he crouched for a second, his right knee touching the wood while the other pressed into the golem''s chest and his right fist planted next to his foot. As he started to rise, five chest-sized water tentacles rose from the boat''s sides.


    Now that the barge''s deck was no longer covered by a nearly opaque blue shield, I saw it no longer had a wild melee raging across its surface. All of the knights had gathered on the far side of the boat, with a line of warrior beastkin fighting them. A circle of five azure-glowing beastkin, with a shining ring around their feet, stood between Brackus and the tower. The poor bastards.


    Head snapping left at a movement, I was surprised to find the northern tower barge and all its occupants were a couple hundred feet closer as our ship moved into the center of the river.


    I hadn''t even noticed that my perspective of the fight was changing with how focused I was.


    Looking around, I saw the others had taken up positions around the sides of the ship, as three knights, two of which were wounded, were now in the center of our boat.


    On the northern side of the river, I saw the line of barges was even more broken up than ours. Two knights were racing along the sinking boats and drifting boats, heading towards the melee happening on the northern tower barge.


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    If the sun was out, I grimly thought, the river would be running red. Leaning over the railing, I looked down, spotting the beastkin bodies flowing on the water''s surface and still clinging to a chunk of ice even in death.


    "Booong!" a deep reverberation echoed off the walls of the Triad.


    Whipping around, I turned in time to see the Molten Man pull back his arm after trying to strike the five beastkin. Around their bodies, this time far darker than the last two, was another blue dome.


    My vision of the dome was obstructed as the water whips lashed forward and twisted around the smoldering figure. One looked like it was a spear as it surged forward into the golem''s chest, while I saw the others locked onto his arms and legs.


    It was only for a moment, but I saw the water spear splattering against the stone as the restraining tendrils coated the limbs. Then the river was filled with a sizzling hiss as the water burst into steam, flowing over the deck.


    From the sides of the boat, I saw the base of the water tentacles sucking up the river''s water as their ends were continuously evaporated.


    Seconds passed one after another, with the hissing water never stopping. Suddenly, the crack of breaking stone sounded, followed by another bong, but this time was not nearly as strong as before.


    All at once, the steam shrouding the ship surged outwards as a crackling thrum sounded.


    Ducking and covering my face with my arms, I felt a momentary cold breeze before I was wrapped in an intense clammy heat.


    Moving my arms after the wind passed a second later, I looked at the tower barge.


    Standing on the deck was no longer a bipedal molten figure vaguely resembling a man. In its place were chunks of stone.


    Gone was the heat radiating off its surface, and the orange glow of liquid stone was nowhere to be seen.


    For the most part, the figure was still whole. Laying on the deck at the feet of the stone golem, I could see pieces that were once part of his arm and chest, along with other lumps of stone that I could not tell where they once belonged.


    Forcing my eyes off the broken figure, I looked at the beastkin huddling at its stone feet.


    They were still covered in a dome, but it no longer appeared nearly as strong as before. And from the movements of the beastkin, they looked wounded or, at the very least, tired.


    The waving around of their arms no longer seemed as sharp as before.


    With a splash, the tentacles collapsed into the river.


    Before a spark of hope that they had run out of mana could ignite in my chest, a fist like the one that had started this portion of the battle rose out of the water.


    It wasn''t quite as large as the last, but it didn''t need to be. All the water fist needed to smash was a lone stone statue instead of the gates to a millennia-old fortress.


    After it towered twenty feet above the deck, the liquid fist stopped growing and started its descent.


    At that moment, the stone statue exploded outwards. It wasn''t all of the statue, as the feet and one arm were still standing, but most of the chest and right arm shot to the side with a shower of stone.


    The watery fist crashed down on what was left behind, smashing it to rubble, but I could not help the smile on my lips. The attack was too late.


    Instead of a thirteen-foot hulking figure, Brackus was now hardly larger than his normal size. The extra mass still came from stone, but this time was different. The ratio had shifted.


    Before, it was lines of cherry red and patches of gray stone. Now it was lines of gray stone surrounded by cherry red pools. Clutched in his right fist, or what he just made his right arm into, was a lance of churning stone.


    The lance wasn''t the weak heat that merely warped the air around the rest of his body. The farther down the length of the spear one looked, the lighter and brighter the color became. At the tip, I could swear I saw a blinding white, but I could not fully look at it to find out, and it stung my eyes.


    Brackus''s new form road the wave of water that broke free from the fist as it impacted the statue. He slid ten or more feet before coming to a stop, the water lapping at his ankles sizzling to steam, curling around his glowing figure.


    He stood still for a moment, his body radiating potential power. Lance leading the way, he charged forward.


    The water hand tried to interpose itself between Brackus and the beastkin, but it could not close the distance fast enough. Because the Molten Man had angled his eruption and slid from the wreckage to place the beastkin between him and the water arm.


    A flash of azure light signaled the contact between his spear and the beastkins'' shield, covering my vision in white brightness.


    By the time the spots cleared from my vision, the Molten Man''s spear had seared its way out of one beastkin''s chest and into another.


    He didn''t even bother to use the tip of the lance as he just swung it to the side, the flesh of the beastkin sloughing away in puffs of smoke. Now that he was within arms reach of the beastkin, they were as helpless as infants before an adult.


    Grazing the side of his spear against the chest of one beastkin, it sank into its flesh like a hot knife through butter. As he whipped the spear away, half of the poor creature''s chest was gone as if it had evaporated.


    As the lance was performing its deadly work, his arm snapped out, and a blob of molten metal shot out of his fist, impacting the chest of a third beastkin. The beastkin fell to the ground screaming in agony, clawing at what was left of its chest.


    In an instant, three of the mage beastkin were dead, and the fist of water collapsed as it moved, spilling over the deck.


    Clouds of steam rose around the burning figure as he strode forward.


    One of the remaining beastkin tried to flee to their still-fighting comrades, while the other formed a water sword and charged.


    Neither decision matters.


    As I opened my eyes from a blink, I saw one figure with a spear through his chest and the other with a fist.


    Like there was some unseen signal, the bodies fell to the ground simultaneously. And the light blue glow covering the deck vanished.


    The nearly evaporated water around Brackus''s feet held back the heat for a moment, but that was all.


    From one moment to the next, fire clawed out from his feet, like a forest fire taking root in the dry grass of late summer on the grate plains.


    Then the Molten Man moved, leaving burning steps of fire, appearing at the back of the beastkin pressing the knights still on the ship. Swinging his lance, his burning through their backs, severing their line.


    The fight over, and his fire firmly taken hold of the tower barge, the Molten Man leaped into the air, streaking towards the other tower barge as the knights mopped up the beastkin and gathered at the railing.


    With a lurch, I felt the boat under my feet move as we quickly traveled the distance to the tower barges, stopping in the open river between the two. When we arrived, the knights on the burning tower barge leaped across the distance.


    The lines of boats were broken, one of the tower barges was quickly becoming a burning wreck, and the other was beginning to smolder; a relieved smile came onto my face.


    The beastkin might be pressing the walls hard, but after this clusterfuck, they had to pull back and regroup, at least for tonight.


    We held back the first assault. I thought after long minutes had passed, as I watched the fire on the barges consume everything.


    "Crack! Cracacaca-boom~!" Like a god spoke, and his voice echoed across the world, the light of heaven fell from the sky, and all I could hear was the screams of the air before everything went silent.

 Chapter 57

    Excerpt From The Legion''s Scholarly Manual On Casting¡ª


    This brings us to a core issue of casting: the size of one''s psy pool.


    I do not see one''s core as a subject to focus on when talking about casting, and that is because it can not be controlled.


    While some data suggest that heritage and breeding impact the potential of offspring, it is ultimately up to chance. Even the oldest families, who have selected mates based on the potential of the offspring for generations, produce children that are less than average in terms of psy reserves.


    The only thing I can say about breeding is that elves have a higher level of control than an average human, while humans have larger reserves of psy on average. This is a well-documented fact.


    This is a pity because while many aspects of casting can be overcome with certain levels of control, there are hard lines on what one can achieve.


    But then there is the question, how large does one''s psy core need to be in order to have the potential to reach the thresholds of the higher tiers of a discipline?


    The answer is we don''t have a standard.


    More accurately, the only device we have that can measure the psy injected into it is complicated and expensive while not being that accurate, placing it beyond the means of most.


    Since looking inward is by its nature subjective, people give all kinds of answers to the size of their pool that can never be compared, even if they somehow end up with similar descriptors.


    Instead of expensive contraptions that all have slightly different scales and run on mind cores, we are left with instructions that spend their lives judging the potential of our youth.


    Determining their fate.


    **********


    She was wrong, oh so very wrong.


    The choking, lung-searing smoke would not kill the beastkin. Kathren knew that for a fact. At first, it was just the faint smell of burning wood, fur, and flesh, a pleasant experience if she ever knew one.


    But then the center of the smoke plume shifted to cover the Middle Fort. Which was¡­ awesome. If she could suffer through it and live, so could they.


    Clenching her abdomen, Kathren suppressed the cough building up inside of her, threatening to double her over.


    Squinting her eyes, the blurry sides of her vision moved inward as tears gathered, attempting to wash out the irritating grit of the ash and smoke. Her refusal to blink, as that meant taking her eyes off the surrounding shadows, meant her body was bound to lose the fight.


    And her mind was losing the mental fight as her mental weariness built.


    All around her, hazy forms moved, and every time one came close, she braced her shield for an attack and arm to lash out as her mind searched the mental links checking if it was an enemy.


    It shouldn''t be. Kathren was, after all, in the third line of the formation, but one could not be too careful in a battle. Especially a battle consumed by smoke.


    Kathren knew the figures to her front and sides were legionaries, but she couldn''t see anything but deceptive shadows beyond them.


    When the smoke first started rising, the beastkin on the Western Bridge quickly made up their minds. Not that they really had a choice.


    Those at the bottom of the bridge had finally gotten their shit together, were reinforced by another century, and were making steady progress up the bridge. If The beastkin didn''t have someplace to defend, they would be smashed on a two-sided assault or forced to jump into the river. Not ideal options to have.


    Attacking what amounted to a battered century, holding a gaping hole in a wall, was their only real choice.


    As they charged the gap, a stroke of luck followed the beastkin, and the smoke shifted. Or the tit fucking fire grew to the point to smother the entire network¡­ Kathren mentally cursed.


    Regardless of the truth, Kathren and the others had to fight¡­ again.


    "By the void¡­ I''m tired." She said, using a priceless breath to complain. She had to keep up the legion tradition and reputation, after all.


    Kathren hadn''t even done anything since the current fight started, but the smoke was making her breathe like she had just sprinted a ten-mile run. Which was only making her wheezing gasps for air worse.


    "Crack-boom! Cracacaca¡ªboom~!" The world shook as tingles of energy ran over her body, and the noise bombarded her ears never stopped, drowning out everything else.


    Kathren stumbled forward from the wind slamming into her back before it blew the smoke away. A wave of relief like she was just handed a bottle of mothers bain from an alchemist after a¡­ drunken night, as she sucked in a breath of fresh air.


    With the smoke gone, Kathren was surprised to see only thirty beastkin still alive and fighting. A number that was abruptly lessened when two knights rushed out of the lines of legionaries pressing the back ranks of the beastkin, cutting into them.


    Throwing a look over her shoulder, Kathren''s eyes widened in shock.


    The rumbling, occasionally arcing, storm clouds overhead had finally shown their full fury. And that fury was otherworldly.


    Lightning rained down onto the Norther Fort like drops of rain.


    Every second, hundreds of bars of lighting fell from the sky.


    The entire fort was tinted an azure hew, and the attack, for what else could it be, just kept going. Thousands of bolts seared their way from the heavens to the ground, and at some point, the sound in her ears stopped, but she could still feel the constant pressure of the bolts striking the earth, thrumming against her skin.


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    She did not look away or even move.


    Then one last set of bolts lanced into the fort, and everything stopped.


    For a single second, everything stopped.


    Then the world turned azure. Above the Triad, lines made of lightning formed upon the bottoms of the clouds, flooding the world with light.


    A massive circle with inner rings connected by intersecting lines intermingled with strange symbols.


    Like a death sentence, the weight of its existence bore down like the blade of an executioner''s sword on everyone in the Triad.


    Then five rivers of lightning as large as the Rush surged into the center of the lightning formation as they flared from the distant horizons in a fraction of a second.


    And in the center, it gathered into a churning ball of power.


    As if the river of lightning were absorbing the dark clouds themselves, the storm front, once stretching far beyond what could be seen, was quickly disappearing at the edges.


    "It''s absorbing the clouds¡­" Kathren thought or whispered ¡ª she could not tell which at this point ¡ª in growing horror.


    The last of the clouds were consumed, showing the night sky overhead but none of its stars as the light filling the world was too bright.


    Then the massed lightning released a pulse that lifted the dust covering the ground twenty feet into the air as it struck and nearly pressed Kathren to her knees.


    Little sparks of lightning danced between the particles of dust, and the air held a tension that prickled at the skin, raising her hair on end.


    Then a roar of animalistic thunder sounded, heralding a supreme being into the world, as a creature exited the ball of death, mouth wide as it descended.


    Kathren had never seen its like before. It wove its way through the air like a snake along the ground. It even had scales covering its length. But no snake ever existed that was two hundred feet long and as wide as a house.


    The scales of the creature were like looking up into a summer''s day, but power roiled beneath their surface. Two sets of short arms hung at the front and back of the creature, while the spine had a mane of lashing hair at the head and a ridged spike afterward. The head of the living lighting looked slightly feline but had a long snout filled with arching teeth and long whiskers.


    As the creature exited the sphere, the lighting ball shrunk in size until all that existed above was the creature weaving its way through the air.


    It circled high above several times, then trumpeted its power to the world before streaking to the ground, lightning bolts shooting off from its sides as if lashing at the world itself.


    Then she felt through her feet and saw the Middle Fort shake with a faint, deep rumble. It was like the earth itself was groaning.


    What might have been a rock flew up into the air for seconds before it all seemed to stop, then there was a flash to her left.


    At the walls of the Western Fort, the creature had turned into little more than its head but had grown larger than the walls.


    Mouth wide, the creature arched across the river until hitting the wall, where the lashing wires of lighting inside ripped apart the stones of the walls scattering them.


    It traveled hundreds of feet, tearing up the wall as it went before finally dissipating.


    In its wake, Kathren could see a furrow in the ground until it ended at the base of a bridge. Its stone blocks were charred black and slightly melted, but there was no mistaking it as a bridge over the Rush.


    Kathren only stood in stunned silence, looking at the last remnants of the destruction wrought on the forts.


    She could not hear anything other than the ringing in her ears, but she knew no one was saying a word.


    Now was a time to bear witness to the end of an era.


    **********


    Slumped in his seat, Ponta slowly reached up to his lip before moving it away and looking at the tips. His fingers were coated in blood.


    Long seconds passed as he looked at the scarlet liquid, even moving his thumb to rub it between his fingers.


    I knew there would be blood. Sacrifices have to be made in war¡­ But so much is already split. And with far more to follow¡­ A weary sigh escaped his tired lips as the old pain in his chest flared with new life.


    A delicate hand, one that would have been better used to hold a teacup or paintbrush, came into his vision. He followed the scarred and calloused hand to the arm and then the face of the woman it belonged to.


    She was in full legion frontline gear, steel breastplate strapped on, bracers on her forearms, shin guards, and leather armor with a harness under the armor. If the weight of the armor meant anything to her, it didn''t show in her movements as she crouched down in front of Ponta.


    Quineeta was the image of grace, able to rival anyone he had seen in the stately balls thrown by the nobles of Olimpia.


    He could see the concern on her face. It was the combination of the slight wrinkles of her brows and the creasing at the corner of her eyes. Few people would know her well enough to see it, but he could.


    They had served together for decades, and it behooved one to recognize the emotions of one''s subordinates.


    "Legatus Valee!" She shouted a little too loudly, eyes flicking to the blood running down his face, "Are you alright!"


    She was outside when the¡­ Can it be called lightning? A creature made of living lightning? Never seen anything like that from a Knight Electro.


    Coming out of his thoughts as Quineeta shook him again, she opened her mouth to speak as he cut her off.


    ¡°I¡¯m¡ª" mouth too dry to speak, Ponta wet his lips before speaking again, "I''m fine, Prefect,"


    Sitting up as she moved back, he looked at the table in front of him. A map showing the Triad was laid out on the dark polished wood, with little figurines marking cohorts and centuries'' positions scattered along and within the walls. Knights had their own figures, as one could turn a battle by themselves if used right.


    Coming to his feet, looming over the table again, he looked at what he had wrought.


    They needed more information. Too many miraculous reports depicting beastkin performing fantastical feats had come in. If they were facing a new breed, they needed to be ready. To know what they could do.


    So he called up the militia. He sent out calls for aid. He positioned his legion for the worst-case scenario, that of losing the Western Fort.


    Cross would send their legions to help us retake it. And losing the Northern Fort would effectively mean cutting themselves off from the Cradle. And stop us from sending out a force to attack supply lines. Not that I believed the beastkin would have one at the time, but it was the right tactical decision.


    Ponta got the information he wanted and far more. The price, heavy as it was, might be small by the time this was over.


    Adjusting his armor and wiping off his nose with a handkerchief handed to him by his valet, he lightly set his hands onto what felt like lacquered wood, but he knew it really wasn''t. The slightly cool surface was like ice prickling at his clammy skin.


    He almost wished it actually hurt, as something of a penance. For what he did. What he will do.


    Lashing out with a tendril and hiding the minor eruption of pain it caused him, he wiped the figures from the Northern Fort and those manning the northern section of the wall on the Western Fort off the table and onto the ground.


    Legatus Ponta Valee had held onto his fracturing Union long enough to know that a fourth of them were dead. And for those who weren''t dead, most were incapacitated, making the point moot. The Northern Fort is gone.


    Knocking the figures of half his legion to the ground ¡ª the only display of rage he would allow himself ¡ª he looked at his precept and the telepaths in the room. "Form a new Union, and pull everyone back from the Western Fort. We will hold the Southern Fort."


    Shocked silence filled the room. No one had ever heard of half a legion dying in a night outside of ancient stories.


    "Understood!" Commanded Valee, causing everyone to snap to attention and respond.


    "Yes, Sir!" they chorused together.

 Chapter 58

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    ¡­


    As Areekail finished speaking, his words settled into our minds. And with the words came the full scope of the elves'' actions, the cost which we ¡ª and our descendants ¡ª would have to pay.


    At the unfairness of it all, a flicker of wrath was embedded in our chests at that moment. But then we looked over the walls into the unending city stretching to the horizon. Over every surface, the wretched forms of beastmen crawled.


    Life is never fair, and my hatred for the elves was smothered as I looked over the walls. The elves were, are, and will remain, suffering the cost for their actions for¡­ who can say how long.


    They tried their best to atone. To set us up for success.


    But they could no longer hold up the burden that was crushing them. As their last act, they would give us time to grow.


    High King Areekail stood at the railing of the broken citadel of at the corner of the raised city.


    His dual forms ¡ª that of a decrepit old man and one in the prime of life ¡ª flickered before settling into the one of youth for an instant.


    Then the mask of youth solidified as the air around him shuddered with power.


    Stretching out his hand, he flicked his wrist, and a line of dirt a hundred feet tall shot through the city. At first, we saw nothing. Then second by second, a crevice running through the city started to grow. In the blink of an eye, the canyon was swallowing buildings, the speed of its expansion increasing.


    The cracks and booms of splitting stone filled our ears as if the world itself was breaking apart.


    Turning to our bloodless faces, he gave us a smile filled with remorse and relief as he whispered a word that carried over the destruction of the world, "Run."


    **********


    Spots filled my vision, my eyes watered, and a slight ringing filled my ears, but I didn''t care. My eyes were locked on the new bridge arching across the Rush.


    The charred and slightly melted stone blocks which were put into place and fused by lightning. Blocks that were taken from the walls of the fort¡­ while killing all those who manned them.


    Finally blinking, banishing the spots filling my vision, I looked around the deck of the barge.


    Everyone I looked at had a pale face as they looked up at the clear night sky ¡ª the now visible stars somehow appearing like they were mocking us ¡ª or stared at the bridge a creature made of living lightning constructed.


    After the first few seconds of the lightning assaulting our ears and eyes, the knights erected a barrier around the ship to block out most of the noise. We could still hear the sounds, but they were like someone dropping a pot on the other side of the house. Everyone knows what it is, but the racket is only deafening to the one in the room.


    I turned from those on the barge to look at the Northern Fort of the Triad, remembering all the bolts of lightning crashing to the ground. Falling on a fort filled with legionaries.


    It was an impossible event. But so is ripping out someone''s soul¡­ I suppressed a shudder at the thought. Never again can anyone deny a soul existing without me thinking them a fool. Any disbelief was literally ripped from my mind.


    And If it was impossible but still happened¡­ the lighting was a targeted attack.


    How many people survive a lightning blast? With all the stories, the odds have to be pretty good, right? But how many would be able to fight afterward?


    I could feel the growing hole in my gut tell me the answer. Few, if any, would be able to shrug it off. And with the defenses torn open, those still able to fight would be overwhelmed before they could gather.


    A thud sounded to my right, and I looked over at Brackus standing on the deck, his helmet under one arm and face set into a grim mask.


    "I received word that what is left of the legion is pulling back to the Southern Fort. Beastkins are pouring into the Northern Fort and will soon cut off the bridge, leaving hundreds, even thousands, of legionaries trapped. We have been ordered to gather as many legionaries from the Northern Fort as we can, then escort them to safety." He stopped talking, and the light of the burning barge towers turned the slant of his lips vicious, "I believe we can do far more than escort a few." His head turned slightly, and he examined the lines of barges upriver. Sections were filled with sinking ships, but most weren''t. More than enough to stretch across the river.


    The despondent mood growing on the deck vanished as we were given a course of action.


    No matter our origins, our ranks, or the view of the rest of the republic about our fort and the 15th legion as a whole, we were proud. Our fort and legion''s history stretched back a thousand years.


    Watching the deaths of our brothers and sisters was not something that we could take lying down. Because we were Legion.


    Pushing aside my exhaustion and growing fears about my mental energy, I was ready to charge forward again.


    I would not be alone.


    Even Celeste had a fire burning in her eyes as she looked at the new bridge.


    It did not matter if the beastkin had powers we couldn''t comprehend or hope to mimic. We would fight.


    The knight commander looked at our faces and nodded in approval.


    "Kaloma and Veelam, take your squads and clear and capture enough barges to span the river. Move them to the northern docks and line them up. Pekloo, secure the Docks on the Northern Fort with your squad. Lukus, move into the fort and stall the advance of the beastkin. the rest of you scatter into the fort and spread the word of a new route." Orders given to those on the deck, he took a step and leaped into the air, throwing his body toward the slightly smoldering tower barge and those knights still on the deck.


    I saw him stand on the charred wood for a moment, then as one, all of the knights on the tower barge started climbing up the tiered ladders leading up to the bridge.


    They climbed up and disappeared in moments, but the knights on our boat were not waiting and watching them like I was. The ship was already moving, propelled by the knights on deck, while the others had leaped into the water.


    This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    Despite becoming a small city of little import, the Triad had once been a major base for the republic. It functioned as the supply hub for the legions stationed in the northeastern territories. To facilitate the traffic, four docks were built on the Triad, one in both the Western and Northern Forts and two on the Southern Fort, one on the Rush, and one on the Twins. All of those docks still existed today, if in far more disrepair than they once were.


    The docks for the Northern Fort were located at the fort''s easternmost section on the Twins. A straight shot across the river was the smaller docks of the Southern Fort, as not that much trade was coming to the fort from Basetown.


    With the full might of the knights behind it, the barge shot forward, going faster than it had ever gone before. Standing at the deck''s edge, I could feel the spray of chilly water as we hit the waves and the shudders in the wood as we hit chunks of ice.


    I half turned to the nights at the prow as I felt the ship shudder but held my tongue. They didn''t seem to care about the potential damage to the boat and continued to plow through the river as fast as before, their eyes locked on our destination.


    They had to be in a Union, and couldn''t miss the impacts rocking the boat, so all I could do was have faith they had a plan.


    After minutes of moving at such a speed, the barge was pulling up to the docks.


    The four piers of the Northern Fort stuck a hundred feet into the water, along a hundred yards section of the river bank. The fort''s walls angled around the region, forming a rectangular area of land fifty yards deep, with the steel gates to the fort at its center. Past the docks, the walls only continued another fifty or so yards before turning.


    Coming up to the dock, a knight shouted, "Brace yourselves!" The words were hardly out of the knight''s mouth before the boat spun one-hundred-eighty degrees, sliding up next to the dock. The smallest of bumps signaled our arrival. "Move into the fort and gather those you find! But don''t go too far!" The knight shouted, unfazed by the maneuver.


    Carefully getting to my feet after we stopped moving, I held down my building nausea, eyeing the ship beneath me in concern. The creeks and groans from the straining wood were no longer there, but I could clearly make out the gurgling of water. Like it was slipping into¡­


    Eyes widening in realization, I shot to my feet, ignoring the flop in my stomach, and quickly moved to the far railing, joining the crowd gathered there.


    The knights already had whatever mental conversation they needed and were rushing down the docks after throwing some ropes onto the ship''s railings.


    Hastily tying off the rope, we jumped down the seven feet to the dock before moving down the pier after the knights.


    As we stomped down the dock, I saw a knight standing on the shore waving his hands towards the river. I missed a step in surprise as the water next to the pier started boiling before it pulled back like a curtain revealing the start of a mud path leading right to the sinking ship. Guess the holes don''t matter.


    Stepping onto dry land for the first time in far too long, I looked to my sides. Sathera and Bellous had taken up positions to my left and right, making us a team of three. The rest of the legionaries on the boat had come to the same unspoken consensus and also broke up into groups of two and three as we moved.


    The stone cobbles beneath my feet were covered in so much dirt that they might as well not even be there. Very little was built in this area, as the river''s yearly surge made structures nearly impossible to keep standing.


    The only reason a dock remained was that this was still technically a Legion Fort, even if it had become more of a school. According to the manual, all permanent forts on a river needed a place to stage supplies in case of a siege.


    Muscles burning from the run and slightly puffing for air, we reached the rising steel portcullis as the stone gates behind swung open, causing relief to surge through me.


    The whole time we were running to the gate, I was throwing glances at the walls and wasn''t seeing any movement on them. This might have been the back of the battle, but the legion knew beastkins were coming from the river. Someone should have been keeping watch. That''s not a good sign.


    Running into the passage, I saw a figure in armor drop to the ground at the far end with a clatter of metal. Over each shoulder of the knight were the limp forms of legionaries. Shit.


    Stepping past the knight who had started jogging down the tunnel with their passengers, I moved into the fortress proper and froze in place.


    The immediate area around the gates to the docks was a collection of warehouses.


    But the stone structures couldn''t house anything anymore. It looked like their roofs were smashed inward by a massive hammer, exploding the walls out to the sides. The sunstones that were supposed to hang on the walls of the buildings were either mostly destroyed or buried, throwing the area into shifting darkness.


    My eyes moved past the immediate neighborhood of destruction, seeing more of the same, if to a lesser scale. I watched the lightning creature build the bridge from the destroyed wall, but the sight was¡­ distant. Like I was in a dream, watching the events happen without it really affecting me.


    I knew from wandering around this location in the past on midnight strolls that the last time the warehouses were maintained was measured in decades, if not longer. Most only held long-collected dust.


    But as I saw the destroyed buildings, I heard a distant thought. Nothing more than a whisper flickering across the back of my mind. ¡­Why am I fighting?


    "Argh!" I grunted in pain, hand clutching my tunic over my chest as if it would soothe the spear of pain deep inside my heart. At that moment, my eyes locked on a figure lying among the scattered blocks of a building.


    Bricks were stacked next to the head, casting a shadow over the face. I reared back as the streaks of light and shadow twisted, and I saw Bark''s face. Her body was surrounded by collapsed stone, her chest weakly moving as she took a shuddering breath.


    Blinking, the shadows snapped back into place, and I was looking at the face of a woman in the prime of life, blood caking one side of her face from a wide gash at her temple.


    My brows wrinkled in confusion as I thought of the old woman, my breathing hitching as I felt a flare of concern. I had never felt the like in all my years of service.


    Starting at the woman''s face, the sides of my vision turned black, encroaching on the center with every rapid beat of my heart.


    "Are you okay, Instructor?" Sathera asked, snapping my mind into focus. Looking at her, I saw her look of concern.


    "Fine," I gasped, waving her off, trying to shove away the pointless thoughts writhing in my head and focus on the job. I could tell she didn''t believe me, but I ignored her piercing eyes.


    After taking a few breaths to focus my mind, I stated, "let''s move." I needed to get moving.


    I saw others move off, some to the stairs leading to the wall, and others like me into the heart of the destruction, but I did not care. I had a goal in mind, and not much else mattered.


    At first, all we found were destroyed buildings. The atmosphere turned heavy as the tension built with every step we took. The cries and clangs of a fierce battle were all around us. Whenever we turned a corner, we thought we would find a battle raging on the street.


    But every time, we found nothing.


    I could faintly hear the slaps of our footsteps as we passed one line of empty barracks after another, the sharp smell of ozone and iron filling my nose. After dozens of minutes of running and nearing the middle of the fort, we stepped around the corner leading to the main boulevard running through the camp.


    Hesitating for a second, I looked at the street filled with legionaries.


    The wounded ¡ª and I couldn''t see one who wasn''t ¡ª were shuffling down the length. Open wounds and bloody bandages were everywhere, some with shocked, dull expressions covering their faces. Shouts of centurions and commanders echoed off the walls as they tried to instill order, but all these people wanted was to retreat.


    I flinched back from the desperation pouring out from their muddled thoughts. The burning hope of the bridge flickered in their minds, as everyone knew it was their only way out.


    Except the flashes and sounds of combat were the strongest to the south. If any of them were thinking clearly, they would know their hope was fruitless.


    "Spread the word," I told the two following me as I took off down the street. "To the docks!" I shouted, "Go to the docks!"


    Some of those around listened to me, but I never stopped moving to find out. I didn''t even really care if they followed their last hope for life. Because they don''t care about me¡­


    But I kept shouting anyway, doing my duty. Over and over, I yelled, not stopping until the crowd had nearly vanished and I was a few streets from the fort''s outer walls. I could not move any further.


    The building I was standing before was in the center of the wall''s arch, placed in an optimal position for any wounded. Because where else would a forward aid station be.


    A medico ward I knew Bark would be at.


    A ward that was smashed like a child hopping onto a sandcastle by the boulder in its center. My eyes flicked to the arms and legs poking out of the destruction, causing a fist to clench at my heart.


    Slumping to the ground, I stared at a single calloused arm and hand locked into a mockery of a wave by two pieces of stone.


    Time passed, and I didn''t move a muscle, only coming out of it when a soft voice spoke, "I am truly sorry for the loss of life. But this is necessary."

 Chapter 59

    A Story From The Elders¡ª


    The world loves us.


    Any Kin born with the ability to use mana will tell you that. Our spells, cast with the tiniest flicker of mana, will burst with strength, fueled and reinforced by the world itself.


    This does not mean we are all-powerful, as we are far from that. Olimpians, though they are hated and suppressed by the world as much as we are loved, can match our strength.


    Remember that, children, oppression breeds strength.


    As Olimpians gather together, their mental powers become stronger. They are able to push back the world''s oppression and manipulate the forces of nature.


    Crude as their control may be, there is a power in simplicity.


    Their powers shape the land around them, then their willpower seeps into their creations, strengthening their fortifications beyond what the material should have.


    And yet their fortifications and cities are nothing to us.


    Our spells can span years! And their might is unmatched!


    If we have the time to prepare. If we can see the threat coming.


    Which is why we must be wary of the Letairry and their tricks.


    Why we remain ever vigilant.


    **********


    The tall grass lashed Kanieta''s legs and waist as she sprinted through the clear night. Stationed around her were the Shades, nothing more than dark spots in the night, acting as her bodyguards.


    A couple hundred yards in front of them was what was left of the section of wall they were approaching, which was hardly more than a few blocks stacked atop each other.


    Kanieta was not happy about the spell''s success, though. A hole of uncertainty had formed and grew in her gut as she drew closer to the walls.


    While the stone was nearly gone from this portion of the once fortifications, that was not true for the bodies. The Kin warriors and the occasional legionary covered the land until it was nearly blanketed.


    Already so many dead.


    Straitening her spine in resolve, Kanieta shouldered the new weight pressing down on her. But it wasn''t new. She just didn''t know how heavy the burden really was until now. Kanieta could not remember when it happened, but she had stopped moving in the middle of the corpses.


    Leaping forward, she danced between the dead, splashing her ankles with the pools of intermingled blood between the bodies. She did not look down, only focusing on her objectives. The future.


    Kanieta already had more than enough nightmares. She didn''t need to add the faces of the dead she trod upon to them.


    To her sides, the darker patches of the night kept pace with her, bearly a silent witness to her actions.


    Then she moved onto the scorched furrowed ground of the Northern Fort of the Triad, which marked where the wall stood. The sharp copper smell of blood twanged off the odor of ozone.


    She was with the Red Tail mages when they cast the final part of the thunder spell. There was nowhere else she would rather be.


    No matter how this all turns out, the Thunder Storm and Call of The Lightning Dragon spells they just cast would go down as some of the greatest spells cast by her people. Our history is admittedly short compared to Olimpians, but the amount of preparation involved guarantees its title for a while. Kanieta thought to herself with an upward curl of her lips.


    Sure, there were spells that had a more significant impact on the Kin''s culture and their mage craft, like the spell Calling To Kin, which allowed them to enlighten The Lost. And the amplification and melding of mana circles, not to mention enchanting, but those were different.


    Those were all significant discoveries or a progression of the craft. The foundation that future generations would take for granted and use to propel themselves to new heights.


    But what her faction had just done was an unprecedented act. An act that the other clans had scoffed at. They derided the Red Tail, saying their focus on the more theoretical areas of mage craft rather than the purely physical enhancements and enchantments of the body and items was idiotic.


    They scorned her ideas. The hard work of her faction and drive to improve. Of course, those comments were led by the Crescent Moon Faction and those pandering to them. But the other factions went along with them because they were growing in power. Who''s growing in power now?


    Bunch of cowards, Kanieta thought, her mental voice filled with scorn. They all went along with the wolves because dogs were always baying the loudest¡­ Never taking the time to think for themselves.


    The one thing that the Red Tail and Crescent Moon Factions could agree on was they needed to act now while they still could. If they decided to fight in their mountain strongholds and valleys like most of the other factions wanted, eventually, they would be overwhelmed by the Lost.


    If there was one major difference between mana and psy users, it was that psy users could perform at their optimal level nearly instantly and last until their energy ran out. Mana users took time and could only last so long before having to restock on ingredients for broken or worn-out focuses.


    With time and the required focuses, mages can reach a level far surpassing psy users, but it takes weeks, if not months, of planning.


    A perfect example were the spells just cast by her faction. They were the culmination of months of careful planning and spellcasting as they created the correct circumstances for the weather. And that wasn''t even counting the development of the spells such as lightning blast, which acted as the foundation for the spell formations. Even calling simple spells like fireball or earth move would eventually wear out a focus if used enough, so proper preparation was always a question in the back of a good mage''s mind.


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    And then there was the struggle of casting and then containing the spell.


    Her clan''s, and the rest of the faction''s, mages had been continuously holding back the last step of the spell for weeks. It took time to gather the required electrical energy in the air. Then, after collecting the energy, they had to move it without an actual storm forming before they were ready. It was¡­ a struggle to say the least.


    The only way to describe the spell was grand. And she was part of it¡­


    Kanieta might have only given a slight amount of mana at the end and a few other times along the way, not even really needed, but that didn''t matter.


    What mattered was the results.


    And now everyone, the rest of the clans and the Olimpians, knew. All the Olimpians needed to know was the Kin could destroy their fortresses at a whim. If nothing else, they had to respect and fear that fact.


    Other Kin factions would see the results of their spell and want that power for themselves. And more importantly, they would see different levels of success in the two plans.


    The Crescent Moon couldn''t even take their wall, and their plan to take the Middle Fort utterly failed.


    No one needed to know that her intervention was significantly ¡ª if not wholly, because the Olimpians would have underestimated us ¡ª responsible for the defenders'' success.


    All that mattered was the Crescent Moon Faction''s attack failed, and the Red Tails'' attack succeeded.


    No, it more than succeeded. It shattered the legion''s defenses. And the legion.


    Kanieta looked at what was left of the northern stone fort.


    The thousands of bolts that fell onto the buildings and legionaries inside the walls had left havoc in their wake.


    While the lightning bolts were guided and controlled to a certain extent, they still acted within their nature. Which was just fine with those who cast the spell.


    The bodies of more than a dozen legionaries lay just past the trench. No wounds marred their forms, but their steel helms had black fingers covering their tops. Some were different with the arcing on their chests, but it was usually on the head.


    Hundreds of similar bodies lay beyond the first hundred yards, some looking like they were frozen mid-run heading toward cover.


    Those who ran into buildings could almost be said to be worse off.


    The spell was, after all, meant to destroy a fortress. The walls were covered in cracks or had chunks blown out of them, undermining their stability and causing portions to fall.


    She could not see a building that didn''t have at least a collapsed wall. But it was surprising how many buildings were still mostly standing.


    "They sure know how to build," Kanieta said to herself as she looked around.


    The sounds of fighting filled the fort, but they were distant, which made sense. As Kanieta was still approaching, the few legionaries manning the intact wall disappeared behind the battlements.


    What more could they do? A quarter-mile section of the wall was destroyed along with its defenders. Anyone could see the fort was lost to the legion.


    A portion of the warband was lightly pushing into the fortress, but they more setting up a defensive line while most of the warband was rushing to cut off the bridge.


    Some warriors might get a little wild as they succumb to blood lust, but it would not last long. The war leaders knew the plan and would keep the warriors in line.


    They were not here to make a mortal enemy of the legion but to get a better bargaining position.


    Signaling the Shades, she engulfed herself in shadows. Jumping forward, tendrils of shadow springing out and latching onto the roof of a building, they pulled her to it.


    Though the moon''s dim light was shining again, it could not get past her darkness. Landing on the stone, Kanieta felt it start to give way beneath her.


    Sprinting, she ran along the roof, leaping across one street to the next. In such a way, leaving a few completely accidentally collapsed buildings and walls in her wake, she made her way into the heart of the fortress. To her sides, she saw the slightly darker outline of other Shades, helping her search.


    A few minutes later, as she was randomly running around, one of the Shades signaled her they had found a potential target. Moving to follow, Kanieta stopped.


    Kneeling in the middle of the road, looking at a collapsed building, was Green.


    "How did he end up here?" She whispered, slightly amazed. Keeping still for a moment, she made up her mind,


    Forming a hand sign to the Shades to secure the area, she moved to the road ten feet from Green, strands of shadow peeling off her form like they were reluctant to leave it.


    Kanieta waited for a moment, seeing if he would notice.


    When it became apparent he was lost in his own mental world, as he stared blankly at the intermingled rubble and bodies, she softly spoke. "I am truly sorry for the loss of life. But this is necessary."


    He slowly turned to her, like his neck was a rusted joint barely capable of moving. Green''s face was stricken with despair before it twisted with burning fury. His forest green eyes erupted like a raging fire had consumed the previous indifference. She half expected his wrath to be made manifest and consume the world in fire. The intensity of the look made Kanieta take a half step back as it was like nature itself had focused on her for an instant. Her instincts screamed at her to flee, but before she could bolt, the pressure vanished, leaving her heart in her chest and slightly winded.


    Like he was spitting out something fowl, he said, "How is this necessary? Your people obviously were content to remain hidden in your mountains. We didn''t even know you existed. And now you decided to invade our land? Steal our souls to enhance your powers? Why?"


    Kanieta flinched back at the accusation. She did not agree with and would have never allowed the practice of soul harvesting, but it did happen. And it was her kin that did it.


    ¡°¡­The dark elves are coming." Kanieta finally said in resignation. The weight of her people''s survival was pressing down on her. The other Factions could not see it was necessary to make peace with the Olimpians.


    Green looked at her, his face twisted with fury. He no doubt expected to hear some excuse about wanting to expand their territory or that her people thought the Olimpians were lesser beings. While that was true to some extent, that was not why they were here. As that was all Kanieta said, his face contorted to almost something normal with confusion.


    She spoke with honesty and conviction. He will feel my honesty and respon¡ª "What?" Green asked in bewilderment. "Who are the Dark Elves?"


    Kanieta blinked at Green, then slowly spoke, expecting him to laugh at her for saying the obvious. "Umm, purple-skinned elves with black or violet hair, same with their eyes. Don''t like the light. Live underground. Can control the L¡ª Ahh, they can control savage¡­ beastkin¡­"


    Green''s eyes widened at the last comment, and he flinched back in fear. "What!? They can control you?"


    "No!" Kanieta snapped, slashing her arm. ¡°Ahh¡­ They can control the mindless. Those who are still lost to their instincts. The beastkin you expected us to be."


    Realization flashed on his face, and he nodded, "Ahh, the normal beastkin¡­" He trailed off, looking more embarrassed now than angry as he realized who he was talking to.


    ¡°¡­Yes," Kanieta said, her tone dry before moving on. "The dark elves have harassed my people for centuries, but they are finally coming out of their holes in large unified numbers. They are gathering the hoards of savage beastkins to the size you speak of in your legends and are preparing to march on these lands."


    "Umm, what?"


    Sighing like she was talking to an idiot, she said, "...Let me fully explain."

 Chapter 60

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    We had no choice. Areekail''s words filled us with an unending need to escape, and if we did not move as fast as we could, our hearts would explode in our chests from fear.


    My vision tunneled, and all I could see was where I would take my next step as I fled. Every breath burned in my throat, and I could hear its ragged hitching despite the pounding of blood in my ears.


    I do not remember running through the citadel. Only a few flashes of crumbling stone remained in my mind, one of the few points in my life I have no memory of.


    As I ran from the once stunning stronghold, conscious thoughts returned to my mind. I could not stop running, but I could now look around with clear eyes.


    Standing on the walls, covered in damaged and dented armor, were elves standing in ranks, looking towards the fortress''s center. Their weapons were clutched in their right hands as they lifted them silently into the air. Still positioned at the base of the walls were the elves we had marched with, doing the same.


    When we finally neared them, after traveling the miles of the inner grounds, I could make out their solemn faces.


    Then a crack sounded, and the ground lurched.


    Falling to my knees, I looked up at the faces of the elves, who suddenly had eyes filled with relief.


    They looked behind me to what even I, a pure human, could feel was a welling of power.


    Scrambling to my feet, I staggered forward with my group passing the elves standing silent guard at the open gates.


    Some shot looks at us, their eyes filled with guilt rather than a yearning to run before they turned away.


    Hundreds of feet from the massive walls, we could finally come to a stop. I was filled with disbelief when I turned around to face the cracking and shaking reverberations echoing our frantic flight.


    As far as we could see, a canyon hundreds dipping to thousands of feet deep stretched to the horizon.


    There was no sign of the last elven army or their crumbling city.


    **********


    Looking at the sky, I closed my eyes as I enjoyed the rays of the sun warming my cold body. It caressed my skin, and I could even feel the first ticklings of warmth through my armor.


    What was left of the stone wall I was sitting on was doing its best to rob me of any heat, but my ass was already so numb I couldn''t feel it.


    Minutes passed as I ignored everything happening around me. Then a voice broke through my first moment of forced bliss since¡­ I was in the medico ward.


    Mood crashing to the dark depths of the dead, I opened my eyes and focused on the one talking. ¡°¡ªays to come and join her," said a beastkin in a polite but distant tone.


    As I stood, the woman ¡ª and the tails, ears, and claws aside, she was a woman ¡ª appeared to be a fox beastkin like Kanieta. Though she had two tails and was a different color, her shoulder-length hair and tails were gray with white streaks running through them before turning all white at the tips.


    While her clothes were tight enough to hug her figure, there were so many layers of cloth that seeing anything but the general outline of what lay beneath was impossible. There were plenty of hints, but teasing hints was all there were. Which suits her.


    I followed the swaying hips until they stopped, and I had to walk up next to them. Looking past the gray beastkin, I saw Kanieta walking away from a group of older, scarred men and women beastkin.


    Just from looking at how they moved and constantly scanned the area, I could tell they were strong warriors. If the deference those around them gave as they passed or issued orders was any judge, they were also respected. Which usually goes hand in hand with competence¡­ Stupid powers and competent leadership. Feck.


    Giving a slight nod, I acknowledged Kanieta. She was someone of status, after all.


    If there was one thing I know about people of power, it was to never disrespect them¡­ when you are surrounded by their bloodthirsty subordinates. Behind a closed door or at the top of a cliff, where you could shout insults at them before disappearing, was an entirely different matter.


    Even with my¡­ most sincere and flamboyant greeting, there were still some growls of annoyance and creaking of wood and leather as the nearby beastkin squeezed the hilts of their weapons.


    Not that I cared. I was still of half a mind to try and kill her. Or see how far I could push their hospitality until they killed me just to spite them.


    I was, if only for a moment, important to them. Who else would they find that would be able to relay a message to the legion and have it be as trusted as me?


    There weren''t enough scouts in the legion to make a proper patrol, left alone to find another living one among all the prisoners in his cluster fuck. And that wasn''t mentioning all of my recent achievements, adding weight to my words. So fuck''em.


    Then again, I was an elf. My word isn''t worth that much¡­ pretty easy to replace too.


    She did kill Bark, though¡­ I thought, causing a spike of pain in my heart. Maybe not directly, but it was all the same. Anyone could tell she was in command. Squinting my eyes as I glared at her, a flare of anger rising within me, I wondered if I could kill her and get away. But if what she said is true¡­ Bark would rather die than be the cause of so much death. She didn''t like to see anything in pain¡­ I forced myself to relax as my body unconsciously prepared to lunge forward. Sighing, I flexed my hands, telling myself, She wouldn''t want me to wallow.


    Anger still smoldered inside of me, but it was tamped down by even more regret and grief. Everything was intermingled. I just didn''t know where to start. Not to mention I was just too damn tired and positive this wasn''t the time or place to look into those feelings. Even a narcissist would have to admit there were bigger things than one person''s feelings going on.


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    Sighing, I shoved my thought away and did my¡­ duty. Why am I doing this?


    As Kanieta and the two burly beastkin behind her stopped before me, I saluted her fist to the chest and even went so far as to give her a light bow at the waist.


    "Ohh, Ancestor! You''re a stunning picture of beauty and elegance. To be in our presence is a gift in itself. This unworthy one is humbled to be in your presence and given this most important of tasks, which came directly from your seductive lips," I said right as Kanieta opened her mouth to speak.


    I heard a snort of amusement to my side and looked over in time to see the other fox lady smooth her face into indifference, but her eyes danced with teasing mockery as they looked at Kanieta.


    Around me, louder growls sounded after a silence settled over the area. It wasn''t an awkward silence. I knew those quite well.


    No, this was the silence of subordinates waiting to see if they should be offended on their leader''s behalf. An offense that usually took the form of physical abuse.


    The growls and grunts of anger from the dozen beastkin watching the spectacle grew louder as Kanieta said nothing. It got to the point a tiny shiver of fear ran down my spine as I realized I might have gone too far.


    "Quiet!" Kanieta shouted, cutting off the growing noise of the on-lookers. "If I take offense to something, I will handle it myself!" at her words, she threw a look at me, her eyes filled with the knowledge of what she almost let happen, then looked at a vaguely familiar large bear of a beastkin, who was so large he coul¡ª ¡­Oh. Duh. The bearkin''s fur looked weird, as it was slightly singed and sticking up at random.


    "I didn''t even do it¡­" He grumbled, but thanks to his size, his grumble was so loud I could hear it ten feet away.


    "But you let it happen!" She said with righteous indignation before quickly changing her tone to innocence, "Besides, you act like I caused a bolt to hit you." She was the picture of virtue for a second before softly adding, throwing another look at me, "And I have other plans for you."


    The hair on my arms stood on end, and my instincts told me I needed to run to escape the coming storm. I stepped to the side and noticed that I wasn''t the target of the boiling rage.


    It was the¡­ now suspiciously taciturn¡­ maid? What is she¡­ Next to me. Now that I looked, she was too perfect. It''s an act! I mentally shouted my scrutiny of the woman rising. I watched the fox woman whether Kanieta''s rage like it didn''t exist. Like she had felt it many times before.


    With everyone''s attention focused on the gray fox woman ¡ª who I no longer wanted to be next to ¡ª I shuffled to the side a few steps, putting some distance between us.


    "Yeah," the bear said, in mock belief and understanding, "The only bolt that missed. Right."


    "Hush," Kanieta said, waving off his, in my opinion, reasonable suspicion.


    Blinking, I looked past Kanieta as something strange caught my attention, "What happened to your tail?" I blurted out. Instead of a rich red tail with a white tip, the white was all gone, like it was cut off. I even saw what might be the flesh of the last few inches of her tail.


    I hadn''t noticed before, as I was focused on her story. And now that I thought about it, her tails were surprisingly still the whole time we talked. Not that I knew her long enough to be a judge.


    Beastkin society was not something I knew. I have, however, lived with women my whole life. Bringing up how bad they currently looked or, worse yet, a bad hair day was not something that went over well¡­ the few times I had done it.


    Mentioning a beastwoman''s tail seemed to go along those same lines.


    The stiffening of Kanieta''s shoulders and how everyone was now either looking away hiding their smirks or looking at me with looks of horror-filled interest and most of all, the snort of juvenile joy from the gray vixen next to me told me it was the correct assumption.


    Opening my mouth to backtrack, Kanieta turned and smiled at me. It was cold, and the sympathy she had in her eyes when she found me next to the medico ward was gone.


    "Oh? Is there something wrong with one of my tails?" I kept my mouth clamped shut, the question was a trap, and everyone knew it. "I''m sorry that while enacting my strategy to undermine the Crescent Moon Faction and taking a fortress that hasn''t fallen since its founding millennia ago, I couldn''t protect my tail from getting burned. That''s such a failure on my part. Ohh, how can I even get out of bed in the morning? And thank you so much for feeling the need to point it out to me, as I am just incapable of noticing it myself."


    No one said anything as Kanieta sucked in air after her rant, the silence becoming more awkward by the second. No one would be stupid enough to tal¡ª


    ¡°Well¡­ you didn''t notice for almost a minute." The maid said finally in a dry, indifferent tone. "Who knows what you will notice or need to have pointed out."


    "Is it my fault your fire only burns what you want?" Kanieta snapped back.


    "My fire?" The untrustworthy maid said, shocked, "Who said it was mine? Who knows how many traps and spells were cast last night?" Kanieta just continued to look at the other fox with a flat face. "And if it was mine, I would only retaliate after an unprovoked attack."


    Kanieta turned to me with a huff and flip of her fiery hair, making her hair land so it would block the other beastkin from her sight. At that moment, the gray fox stuck her tongue out and made a mocking face, which caused me to burst out with a small laugh.


    I saw Kanieta track my eyes and squint at me in annoyance before moving on without saying anything.


    As if none of the last few minutes had happened, Kanieta straightened her back, and an almost noble air formed around her.


    "Do you remember our message, Scout Green? Why we had done what we have?" She waited a moment after I nodded before asking, "Will you deliver the message?"


    I considered what she asked. Seconds ticked by, but I had already decided. I would do my duty¡­ like always. I was just making her sweat.


    Finally, I said, "Yes."


    "Good, Kanieta said, breaking out into a smile that lit up her face. "Then, if you would be so kind." she gestured down the street with her arm, and the wall of beastkin stepped apart, creating a path.


    Walking down the street, I moved through the immediate gathering of beastkin. Minutes passed as I kept up my relaxed stroll, finally arriving at the back ranks of the formation of beastkin blocking the street.


    "Move your asses, fur brains!" Shouted a deep voice. Like a wind blowing through the grass, the beastkin parted.


    As I walked into their formation, it closed behind me after a few feet. I was in my own little bubble.


    The beastkin gave me looks as I passed them, but few were filled with rage or scorn. Most had looks of curiosity.


    Step after step, I passed through the ranks of beastkin until suddenly, I was standing in the open.


    There were ten feet of space before the first rank of beastkin and those captured in the battle. Hundreds, maybe even a couple thousand, of exhausted and wounded legionaries filled the street.


    Even now, they stood firm, with those in the best shape standing at the edges, protecting those in the center.


    None had weapons, as the beastkin had clearly taken them, but they were still alive. Sill ready to fight.


    Closing the distance, I casually looked to the roofs of the adjacent buildings and the alleys, seeing more beastkin standing guard. They silently stood, eyes locked on me as I moved.


    Stopping a body length from the line of legionaries warily watching me, I turned to a centurion I saw in the line and smiled. "Your lucky, Centurion. The beastkins are going to let us go to deliver a message and as a political statement."


    ¡°¡­Crows, take us," He said in despair and disbelief after only a moment of silence, "the savages have learned politics. How will we kill the cretins now?" As he voiced the word politics, it was filled with so much venom that it sounded like the curse it was. The statement caused a ripple of laughter to flow through the ranks as they released the stress of their impending deaths.

 Chapter 61

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    We stood at the edge of the new¡­ trench, but the word doesn''t do it justice.


    You can not call a massive canyon ¡ª that was a cone miles wide, which you couldn''t see the end of ¡ª a mere trench. But how can you call something made by a mortal a canyon?


    More than a canyon because as we stood dazed at its edge for days, it began filling with water.


    Days passed into weeks as we stayed at the future mortal-made great lake. Eventually, we came to the conclusion we had to walk back ourselves. No one was coming to guide us.


    But we didn''t know where to go.


    After some discussion, we decided to skirt the river leading into the great forest. Clouded as our minds were of our time in the woods, we remembered towns and cities on the river.


    Weeks and then months passed as we traveled. We foraged for food and hunted for food, and when winter came, we camped on the river''s banks.


    And when it passed, we walked some more. Over time, we came across villages, the endless ruins. We became more ragged and beaten down with every passing day and mile.


    Then we found elves.


    It was just a few at first. A half dozen lived in a small hut, living off the land. They fed us and then followed us as we left, guiding and providing us with food.


    They took us to small villages, which also packed up and followed us.


    The ever-growing number of elves following us cared for all our needs as we traveled, and it wasn''t long before the elves eclipsed our numbers.


    Tens of thousands of elves trailed in our wake by the time we saw Olimpia on the horizon.


    **********


    The definitely in the thousands of legionaries gathered down the street, half of which were not or only barely conscious, were not organized and ready to move. I know it was strange, with legionaries supposed to be able to fight at the drop of a hat and all, but I didn''t think they were trying to ruin our reputation.


    Their excuses of having broken limbs, being unconscious, having no more mental energy, being the only survivor of their century, or warily watching their enemies across the street all sounded good, but all I knew was this was taking forever.


    After an hour of me reassuring the makeshift leadership on the beastkin''s sincerity, which was a handful of tribunes and the few centurions forced to join the tribunes, we were finally ready to move.


    I could tell that the centurions didn''t really wanna be there for the discussions, but the spring tribunes didn''t have much experience with combat. Getting ahead of any stupid ideas they might form in their collective head was a good idea. Not that the sacrificed centurions had to do much while their fellows were doing the real work of getting the legionaries ready to move, as the only idea the tribunes had was to try and send out a pulse calling for orders.


    After I told them ¡ª each of them a few times ¡ª they finally believed me the beastkin could block mental energy. Or they finally accepted that if they were going to get a response, they would have gotten one by now. Who knew what the right answer was?


    Kanieta knew.


    So did I.


    Because she told me the beastkin were blocking telepathic communication to prevent the legion from getting any bad ideas. She was trying to lower the tensions, not raise them, and the 15th charging the Northern Fort in a needless gesture would not accomplish that. After all, she was going to let the prisoners go.


    Or that was what she said. What would really happen was still to be seen¡­


    I ¡ª and everyone else I talked to ¡ª just could not see what she got from lying to us.


    Kanieta could have us all killed at any time. Under these circumstances, without our weapons, our fight would be futile, and that was against normal beastkin. Not these super-powered magical ones.


    After everyone was organized and those who couldn''t walk were collected by those who could, I found myself at the head of the column.


    Everyone was tense as we looked at the wall of armed beastkin, no more than two dozen feet away.


    As the tension built on our side, I could see the beastkin shifting as they readied themselves for a fight. Whether their movements were conscious or not, it only served to ratchet up the tension as the soldiers noticed and reacted in kind.


    "This is going to shit fast," I muttered to myself.


    "Ha," barked out Centurion Hella next to me. She has been sticking close to me since I came over. She said I had ''the smell of a survivor'' around me, and I was good luck to be around.


    I did not miss her hands, and more specifically, her knuckles, though. Her blond hair was cut short, and she was attractive enough for her age, but her hands were those of a pugilist.


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    She was a fighter, and I doubted anyone had underestimated her more than once. If they came out of their bad judgment alive or just wishing they were, was another matter entirely.


    "Well," Centurion Hella said after a moment, "Someone better get to it."


    I turned to her with squinted eyes, but she wasn''t even looking at me. She was cleaning some dirt and blood out from under her nails with a sliver of wood and a bored expression. Seconds passed as my eyes drilled into her without a response. I was starting to question if I had even heard her speak¡­


    Sighing, I looked down the street, squared my shoulders, and stepped forward, ignoring the smirk on Hella''s lips.


    Sweat gathered on my back as I took the first step forward, and the eyes of thousands settled on me.


    For a fraction of a second, I stopped as the weight settled onto my mind. It was like I was actively trying to feel the other''s emotions.


    But I wasn''t doing anything.


    Thinking hurt at the moment, and thinking of casting sent a shiver of phantom pain down my spine.


    I might not have been trying to feel anyone''s emotions, but I felt the collective looks of the thousands around me like a sledgehammer.


    The strength left my body, and as my foot came down, it couldn''t hold up my weight, and I stumbled forward.


    Even as the passive collective will continued to bore into me, I was shrugging it off as I closed off my mind with another jab of pain in my head. It might hurt to form a shield, but doing nothing hurt more.


    After taking a few staggering steps forward, I came to a stop, hunched over, and sniffed at the liquid in my nose while wiping at it with my hand. I looked at the blood and tasted the copper tang in the back of my throat before standing straight again.


    The spike of concern, amusement, and curiosity made my knees weak, but I was half expecting it, so I was able to push through. Already actively shielding my mind, the emotions slid off me like water being poured over a rock.


    Continuing forward, I took a few more steps before the ranks of the beastkin fell back.


    It wasn''t a cowering in fear from my awesome mental powers or the scattering to avoid the charge of the bloody and bruised legionaries behind me. No, this wasn''t anything so grand on our part.


    The beastkin pulled back in good order, in what could nearly be considered a legion standard. Not that the comparison is fair, how could the beastkin compete with a company of men who practically share the same mind? The fact they are anything close is beyond impressive.


    I slowed my steps to match their pace, as I didn''t want to show signs of pressing them. And the legionaries behind me shuffled forward at the same speed.


    With me in the middle between the two groups, we traveled from the middle of the fort to the bridge that connected to the other sides of the river.


    I looked at the destruction inflicted on the fort. Images of the intact buildings I spent years walking between flashed across my mind. It made me feel¡­ nothing.


    Wonder how many people they got out¡­ I thought, thinking about the boat bridge and those who made it.


    While talking to Kanieta and watching her through the morning, I overheard some beastkin bring up the subject to her. She threw a look at me before telling them to push back the knights and burn any barges they could before moving on to another topic.


    I''m sure they got hundreds out, but far more ¡ª as was made apparent by the line of people behind me ¡ª were either unconscious or unable to escape.


    We really don''t have an information network once our Union breaks. I thought before focusing on what really mattered, putting forward one foot after another. Holding the shield in place while walking was harder than it should be, and my throbbing head was getting worse.


    Putting my head down and gritting my teeth, I pushed through the pain.


    I blinked, focusing on a rapid movement in front of me, seeing the last of the beastkin in the formation flowing to the sides of the square in front of the walls of the small fortress guarding the entrance of the northern bridge.


    Saying the gates were open was technically correct. The stone gates were smashed to pieces, and the steel portcullis was ripped from the roof and was laying in the passage.


    So¡­ open? It won''t be able to close again, though.


    I slowed for a second but continued forward, not changing my pace. The shuffling of feet behind me picked up for a second, but it quickly died down with a few shouts to get back in line. Not many of those back there could move at a run, and if they started rushing forward now, someone would be trampled or left behind.


    As soon as I stepped onto the bridge, I heard shouts of surprise. I could see those on the walls of the Middle Fort gesturing to me, but something was missing.


    Looking back, I saw a blurred shimmer in the air, enveloping the gate and everything inside. Even the sound of marching I had grown accustomed to was gone.


    Turning, I smiled as I looked at the Middle Fort and continued striding up the bridge, waiting. All at once, silence slammed down onto the fort. I heard the first ranks of the legionaries coming out of the gates behind me.


    The silence held firm until I was a quarter of the way up the bridge.


    Then the damn broke, and those defending the fort cheered so loud that it shook the air.


    The cheering never stopped as more and more legionaries came out of the Northern Fort, and the line filling the bridge grew.


    By the time we were halfway to the Middle Fort''s gates, they were thrown open, and figures were wildly waving us forward.


    When I was within a hundred yards of the entrance, figures on horseback rode into view. I squinted my eyes as I felt a mild pain from the light glaring off their armor, but I continued to study the important-looking people. Because you know¡­ important people need attention to live. Wouldn''t want them to die or anything.


    My heart skipped a beat, and my eyes widened in shock as I saw the purple stripe running down the side of the pants of the figures on horseback. Only the Prefect and Legatus of the legion had purple stripes signifying their rank, as our legion didn''t qualify politically for a Tribune Latic to be appointed. More accurately, the political creatures that compose that office would ensure they weren''t sent here, so one was never appointed.


    Moving to salute my commanders, I froze as thunks of metal hitting stone sounded around me.


    Knights had fallen from the sky and stood like impassive guardians carved out of steel. I felt a twinge in my mind as large chest-sized stones rose from behind the walls and moved to hover over the heads of the knights.


    My mind flashed with disbelief as I looked at my commander and fellow legionaries about to attack me. Even Those on the walls cheering a moment before had quieted down and drawn their bows, looks of growing fury covering their faces.


    Why would they att¡ª Oh. Shit. They think we are an illusion¡­


    "Legatus Valee!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, "I am scout Green! I come with a message from the leader of the Red Tail Faction of The People and a gesture of goodwill." I waved to the line of legionaries behind me, indicating them, "She wishes to open peace talks between our nations."


    Nothing happened for a few seconds, and sweat began to bead on my brow. A second was an eternity to one in a mental link, so long as they were willing to use the mental energy. And I would bet my life that they were.


    A wave of relief passed through me as a voice ordered, "Come forward alone and give me the message."

 Chapter 62

    Excerpt From The Mad Scholar''s Wall¡ª


    As we approached the city and its surrounding fields ¡ª our elven followers trailing behind us for miles ¡ª the gates were flung open, and the people cheered poured out.


    Like a school of fish swarming a scrap of venison thrown into a river, they enveloped us.


    The young women rushed up to us, holding our heads between their hands, and kissed us. The older men dashed up to us weary legionaries and clasped our arms or enveloped us in hugs.


    Back slaps were everywhere, and after years of travel and fighting, of seeing the destruction of a proud people, my face had broken out into a grin so wide I couldn''t contain it.


    It was like the mood, every single one, was infectious.


    That is my only excuse as to why it took so long for me to notice the jeers and calls of derision behind me.


    The mob of Olimpia had moved past simply cheering for our glorious conquest and on to beating the elves.


    They called them betrayers. Oathbreakers.


    They cursed the elves for killing their families. Their siblings, friends, spouses, and parents.


    The elves did not fight back, as if all fight was beaten out of them long ago. Like they deserved it.


    Within moments, the celebration of our triumphant return had shifted to the collective defilement of the elves.


    Even I, filled with a suddenly all-consuming rage, found myself standing above a half-dead elf, crimson-stained fist raised to strike her again. To my shame, I spat on her in disgust, then turned to join the party.


    As everyone knew, the 1st legion had marched into the elven Great Forest and raised all their cities to the ground. All as a retaliation, of course, because the elves had attacked our great city, Olimpia, out of greed for what we had accomplished.


    Their feeble armies marched and then broke against the Gauntlet and her sister forts, and we counter-attacked, shattering their meager defenses.


    Or so I, and everyone else, suddenly believed. The Great Betrayal as it became known, and how we rose up to defeat our oppressors.


    A belief that would not leave me for years.


    When my scattered memories finally reformed, I tried to tell people the truth. To show them the great mental casting that affected our people, including the elves.


    But even those who marched with me could not remember the truth for long. Their eyes flashed with recognition and horror at my words, and they opened their mouths to speak, only for their faces to fall flat and their eyes to glaze over again the next moment.


    Their memories might be suppressed, but their unwarranted persecution against the elves nearly stopped.


    So I confronted everyone I could with my mad story and embraced my title as the Mad Scholar.


    I told them how the elves offered this world to us on a silver platter and what that gift would cost us. Of what our duty was.


    No matter how much I said or wrote, my words were forgotten, and my writings were lost.


    Stone lasts for ages, though. So I etched my ¡ª our ¡ª story into this wall.


    Generations will come and read what I have engraved. Even if they don''t remember or think they don''t believe what I have to say, they will be compelled to act.


    And hopefully, given enough time, we will pardon the elves of the sins their ancestors didn''t commit and, perhaps, remember the ones they did. Because while we can''t remember the echoes of past events, it doesn''t mean no one does.


    **********


    A knight moved to intercept me as I approached Legatus. Before the knight was within arms reach of me, I could feel a mental probe knocking on my mind.


    The force of the tendril made me flinch, "Ahh!" I screamed in pain, hands rising to my head. "Uhh, sorry¡­" I got out after a moment of heavy breathing and the tendril pulling back from my mental shield. "I have a great deal of mental strain¡­ and damage. Pretty sure I should be in a haze." I gave the knight my best smile, but it felt off.


    I couldn''t see past the full-face helm the knight was wearing, but his eyes were visible. I saw the suspicious squint disappear, and what might have been a flicker of concern passed behind the eyes. It was only there for an instant before the concern also vanished, replaced by resolve.


    The knight visibly looked me up and down, the joint between helm and armor creaking, as he took in my dirt and blood-stained tunic and pants, handing rather stiffly, thanks to all the grime caked into them, on my body.


    A moment later, a far more gentle tendril poked at my mind as a soft feminine voice said, "I''m sorry, but I need you to open your mind." Oh, guess he was she. Whoops. For some reason, I found my mistake hilarious and started snickering to myself.


    The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Pulling back my shield, I felt her suddenly hesitant presence, like a person watching me from the other side of a window. Instead of glass, that window was made from my mind, and her presence alone caused pressure on my mind.


    "Answer the questions in order," the knight sent, "Are you human? Do you mean harm to the Legatus or any other member of the legion?"


    "No, no, and¡­ no?" I asked more than I said, wondering if I was supposed to answer twice for the last question.


    A tension left the bodies of the knights surrounding me, a tension that I hadn''t even noticed until it was gone. I really need some rest if that slipped past me. I thought, holding back a jaw-cracking yawn by straining my neck.


    I didn''t think yawning in the face of your commander was punishable, but I didn''t really want to find out at the end of a whip. It would be fine if I was standing in the crowd watching¡­ Maybe I can get someone from the ex-prisons to do it. Hella would be great, but I don''t think the legion made her with the ability to yawn. Wonder if it wa¡ª


    ¡°¡ªis the message, Scout Green." I blinked, seeing that the Legatus had moved in front of me. More than that, we were off to the side of the gate to the Middle Fort, and the legionaries were marching past us, trying to look as disciplined as possible for the leader of the 15th Legion.


    When did this happen? I thought while grimacing slightly. This¡­ isn''t good. I felt a flare of pain through my eyes as they focused on the Legatus. He was older, as his air was more gray than not, and the lines on his face were like looking at a patch of cracked mud left to dry in the sun. However old he might look, I could see his eyes burning with intensity and a sharp intellect.


    Slamming my fist to my chest, trying my best to radiate military discipline, I said, "Sir, as the legion should be aware, I came into contact with a female beastkin out on patrol of the southern bank of the Rush and southern portion of the Northern Forest." I felt a slight pressure on my ears as he nodded, showing he was aware and gestured for me to continue. "After we escaped," I slowed for another moment, waiting for him to give a motion that he was aware of the events, "and I ended up in the Northern Fort, I came into contact with that same beastkin. She is the current leader of the Red Tail Faction of the People."


    "The People?" He asked in a gruff voice.


    "It''s what this¡­ breed? Of beastkin call themselves." I said with a shrug of indifference, "They are far from their savage cousins. While I can''t say that all of them are intelligent, I haven''t seen a single one that was mindless. I even overheard them talking about their cities and towns."


    "This is an invasion them." Stated the Legatus.


    "Umm, no, sir. Well, not really?" I said, cringing as I corrected him, causing him to frown. Rushing forward, I continued, "The beastkin are attacking us because their territories in the mountains are being invaded. They existed as a secret society, reading us when they needed skilled labor, food, materials, or bodies for centuries. They knew we were unaware of them, so sending a delegation would be meaningless in the timeline they had. So they chose to attack. They get a foothold we can''t push them out of, show us their power and skills, and get the upper hand in negotiations."


    The Legatus''s eyes hardened before glazing over as he looked into the distance and mentally spoke to someone. "They made a mistake. The senators will never let this go¡­ I could see them fully mobilizing the Legion to drive them out." I could see he was saying this more to himself, but I knew the answer."


    "Umm, sir," I said, getting his annoyed attention. Again. "They said that won''t happen because we are already being invaded." His eyes snapped onto me, and I felt my skin prickle at the intensity.


    "Explain," He commanded in a cold tone.


    ¡°The¡­ Ahh, Letairry ¡ª the dark elf force the beastkin are fighting ¡ª are masters of subterfuge. Their spies are already within our borders, as they look basically the same as¡­ me. Just with¡­ dark purple skin. They have a whole empire on the other side of the Broken Peaks," I said, waving at the mountain home of the beastkin off in the distance. ¡°Kan¡ª Umm, the Head Chieftain said, they saw multiple armies marching into the far side of the mountains¡­"


    The Legatus''s face had turned grim, but he did not say anything as he just watched me. He could tell I had more to say, and I hadn''t even spoken the ridiculous part yet. "And apparently¡­ the dark elves can control," I really didn''t want to say it. As if saying it would make it true. I took a breath and forced myself to speak, "the savage beastkin. Not these ones, but all the others."


    "What?" He choked out, his face draining of blood.


    "It''s why they ran. Relocated their entire people. They know they can''t beat what''s coming as they are. The Red Tail faction wants to cooperate with us, while the Crescent Moon wants to conquer us."


    "Do they have proof of their claims?" He asked.


    "She said the only reason we aren''t fighting off waves of the Lost ¡ª what they call the savage beastkin ¡ª was that most of their army was acting as a rear guard for the non-combatants. She said we should soon receive news of all of our northern fortresses being beset by endless beastkin." I took a breath to steady myself before whispering, "like the hoards of hundreds of thousands our legends speak of¡­ It''s why she needed to capture the fort while the other faction failed, to gain everyone''s recognition."


    From how his eye twitched, I knew he heard me.


    ¡°Ahh¡­" I gasped as a fist clasped my mind, shattering my shield, and squeezed.


    "Do you speak only what was told to you, without embellishment or trickery?" The Legatus commanded me to answer.


    "Yes." I hissed through clenched teeth, my mind in turmoil.


    "So you are telling me a beastwave of old is coming, followed by an army of Reavers, who may already have spies in our midsts. And all of this information was given by a beastkin nation, which has existed within the broken peaks for¡­ centuries? As far as you know."


    "Yes." As soon as I answered, the grip around my mind was released, and I fell to the ground panting.


    "Do you have any more to report?" He asked, a hint of regret in his voice."


    I bobbed my head while it was hanging low between my arms planted on the ground. Gathering my strength, I flopped back, so my head was angled up, my butt was on my heels, and my arms hanging limply at my sides before I spoke. "They are returning the legionaries captured in battle as a sign of good faith and willingness to negotiate. Any three-man group approaching the Northern Fort will be invited in, but should we send scouts over the rivers, they will be dealt with."


    My commander looked at me for a few more seconds with his hard eyes before he nodded. Thank you for your report, Scout Green. You should be comm¡­"


    His words trailed off as my attention was caught by something up in the sky. I didn''t even really care what he had to say, either. Two clouds were passing each other.


    From my angle, it looked like¡­ a massive tree?


    Tree? I thought in confusion. There was something¡­ about a¡­ tree.


    "Argh!" I screamed as a mental block in my mind broke. I had never known it was there, never even suspected. It was like an ancient brick dam broke all at once, spilling what had long been crammed behind into my mind.


    Of the memories and bubbling disjointed feelings, a single voice rose to the top. "The mantel must be taken up," Whispered the motherly voice of the Worldtree across my thoughts before I passed out.

 Chapter 63

    A Story From The Elders¡ª


    There is an enemy that has made itself the antithesis of our being from the moment we gained our minds.


    It is not the Olimpians or Imperials that exist on the coast. While they are strong, they are consumed with their own existence. They do not bother to look beyond their borders to see what doesn''t want to be seen.


    So as long as we stay in our holy mountains, never venturing out for more than a raid on those who do not know to fear us, we will never invite thaeir wrath.


    The Letairry ¡ª or Maternal Hegemony in our language ¡ª will never let us exist.


    Even if all we do is cower in our homes, we will be a direct challenge to their existence, to the foundation of their power. Their strength is founded on the abuse and manipulation of our cousins. Those sad existences who still run around without their minds.


    We enlighten as many as we can, but we will never be able to free them all. If there is one thing we can trust about the Lost ¡ª thanks to the Olimpian''s records ¡ª it''s a fact that the Lost''s numbers were always their strength.


    But more than their numbers, it is a miracle they can exist in such a hoard at all.


    When they mass into their endless hoards, they shouldn''t be able to find enough food, but they never seem to starve. It''s the mana. They can live off the world, but hunger will drive them into insanity as they attack everything around them to satiate the hunger.


    We, the People, can disrupt that instinctual spell.


    With a few mages and a good plan, we can kill the pitiable creatures by the tens of thousands or more.


    A fact the Letairry knows well, and they have gathered their pawns to attack us countless times.


    We can never forgive them for what they do to the Lost, and they will not let a challenge to their power base exist.


    So we are at war ¡ª and will remain at war ¡ª until the Maternal Hegemony is exterminated.


    **********


    Kanieta stood in the center of her new bridge. She scuffed her foot against the marred stone bricks in a vain attempt to remove some of the black scorching left by the lightning. I should get someone to clean it up. Make it shine and gleam in the sun. Something new deserves to look like it.


    She didn''t care what anyone said, damn it. Kanieta liked her bridge. It was far better than the trash Jolten made. That thing was only held together by mana and prayers. By the tip of her tail, a single attack broke the stupid thing. Kanieta scoffed mentally at the dead patchy ass-sniffer.


    And the bridge was her idea. The original plan was to throw the bricks into the fort to cause further confusion. She was the one that came up with the idea to do something productive with them.


    So, her bridge.


    A bridge that can take more than a half-hearted effort before it crumbles, too. Kanieta didn''t know about anyone else, but she did not have much time to think or look around when people tried to kill her. Unless a structure was crumbling before her eyes, she wouldn''t waste the effort to rip out a chunk of stone and throw it at her enemies, like you could do with a certain other bridge.


    On the other hand, her bridge should be able to take a beating by a knight, even before it was reinforced with mana and spells. The material is far better, but that was beside the point.


    All that mattered was her bridge was better, and no one would remember the windbag''s bridge. Or even his name. Maybe I should name the bridge after him¡­ as an honor to the dead and all that. Her lips curled in vindictive amusement at the pleasant thought.


    The old man and all of his lackeys had been a thorn in her side for years.


    Turning from the Middle Fort, she signaled the mage to her left with a slash of the hand to stop the spell. While the hearing spell the mage cast couldn''t pick up Green reporting to his superior, as one of the knights had put up a barrier, she could still gain quite a lot by watching.


    The vision spell, through which she watched the whole interaction, was shaped like a circular window hanging in the air a few feet past the bridge''s railing with indistinct, hazy edges. It showed Green and the Legatus like she stood ten feet away from them.


    From the corner of her eye, she saw the image showing Green lying on the ground, a couple people hovering over him, snap shut as the mage cut off the mana.


    A tiny flicker of concern for Green flared inside her. She enjoyed their short time together and felt kind of guilty for using him like she did and for all the suffering he was subjected to, but she squashed the emotions as soon as their reared up. Kanieta could not entertain such sentiments with the position she was in.


    "Do you think he will seek peace?" Elder Lurta asked in a slightly distracted tone.


    Looking over, Kanieta saw the old fox had browbeaten someone into fetching her a chair. And now she was having the gofer hold the yarn she was trying to knit into a¡­ snake shirt? Can''t be a sleeve. No one has an arm that long. Kanieta didn''t know, and telling the old hag she was terrible at knitting only made one suffer the Elder''s wrath.


    The young man had a crestfallen expression, like the world was ending, and all he could do was watch. His eyes were looking to the Northern Fort in longing as the beat of the party drums sounded. Anyone could tell he yearned to join the celebration.


    Having a party when they were still technically fighting wasn''t the best idea, but Kanieta had long ago learned to only fight the battles she could win. The best she could do was minimize the risk while retaining her authority.


    The Olimpians might be readying to throw back another assault, but attacking those walls was the last thing on her mind. They didn''t have another siege spell prepared, so they would have to do it the hard way. There was no way the gains would be worth the cost.


    Her eyes traveled over the young man, who might just be Lurta''s newest project, even if he didn''t know yet. Suppressing the shiver running down her spine at the surfacing memories, she said a silent prayer to the Spirits before focusing on the Elder.


    ¡°¡­He seems competent enough." Kanieta slowly said. "I think he would be open to negotiations once he sees we speak the truth."


    "But it''s not up to him." Stated Elder Lurta.


    Kanieta said nothing to the obvious statement, "By the time those in power come to the realization they need to act, it will be too late."


    "The hoards will be at their borders pressing them hard,"


    "Yeah, that too," Kanieta agreed, "but I was talking more about our defenses. Already our mages are hard at work casting spells and reinforcing the battlements. In a few weeks, it will take the combined might of Olimpia to push us back. And if they do that," Kanieta shrugged like there was nothing she could do, "we will both be conquered by the Letairry."


    Elder Lurta did not disagree with Kanieta''s statement.


    Looking past the Elder, Kanieta looked at the river in contentment.


    Mana thrummed in the air, and beneath her feet, she could feel the bridge acting as the anchor for the spell stretched over the river, which obscured the line of barges from the Olimpians. They might know we have boats, but no need to advertise how many.


    On their decks were all the supplies their farmers would need to start their crops and all the tools the carpenters and masons required to build a city.


    Tanners, ranches, woodcutters, miners, smiths, and every other required profession would follow in the next few days. The children and their caretakers would come after.


    Sure, Kanieta had not lied when she told Green that most of their army was acting as a rear guard, but that wasn''t the whole truth.


    Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Veteran warbands were already sweeping through the Cradle to the east.


    That lush, sweeping valley was the only major inhabited area the Olimpians had on this side of the river. The area bordered the Twins and had its back to a series of rolling foothills leading to the Broken Peaks.


    The foothills were covered in orchards, and the floors of the valleys were one massive wheat field.


    All the food the People would need for the year of the building ahead of them.


    Any farmers that still remained would be offered the chance to stay, and they would be given a fair price for their produce, but Kanieta would have that food. She would treat them as well as possible, but they would not be allowed to endanger her charges.


    "The Crescent Moon will be trouble." Lurta said, after a while of Kanieta watching people unload the barges, "They won''t take being shown up lying down."


    ¡°¡­I know," Kanieta groaned in exasperation. "Couldn''t let me enjoy the moment?"


    "I have," the Elder said in amusement, "but now you are just putting off calling a Conclave." Kanieta flinched from the accusation and felt her tail betray her nervousness. She really hated those meetings.


    Lurta''s lips pulled back, showing her fangs, "It''s time to show those howlers the cost of breaking the Conclave''s laws."


    **********


    Legatus Panta Valee looks at what appeared to be the normal ¡ª if high quality ¡ª black lacquered top of the table placed in the middle of the Control Center of the Southern Fort. The table came up to his abdomen, with a foot-tall railing ringing the edge. The perfect level to lean against.


    When he first took control of the fort, he toured every nook and cranny of the place, taking in the history.


    He spent the vast majority of his time in the legion dealing with the politics of the Isles. The only place he had met a group as cutthroat as those on the Isles was wading through the politics of Olimpia itself.


    It was why he had accepted his assignment up here so easily. All he sought was efficiency and competence among his legionaries, but apparently, that was too much to ask.


    While dealing with the Hoppers, as those who live in the Isles call themselves, he gained a significant level of respect and power.


    A little too much power.


    When Panta became the Consul in charge of the Isles, the senators of the Isles took notice. He did, after all, have the power to unify the Isles for the first time, possibly ever. Doing so would end up decreasing the dozens of senators for the Isles to a mere handful. Panta had no plans to do so, but that did not negate the fact he could. Or that others were urging him to do it.


    Threatening the power of so many was not the type of attention anyone wanting a long life desired. A category Panta fell into.


    So when he was recalled to Olimpia ¡ª though how can someone be recalled to a place they have never been? ¡ª and was offered wagonloads of titles and lands, all of which just so happened to be far away from the Isles ¡ª complete and utter coincidence, he was sure ¡ª Panta decided to be, appeased.


    They could not strip him of his rank, as that was a legion matter, so he remained the technical Consul of the Isles. But they could prevent him from ever returning.


    The stalemate lasted for years until a decade ago when he requested to be transferred to the Northern Line. It was the unofficial-official retirement posting.


    Panta was tired of politics. Spending his last years in the legions teaching new recruits while watching over a quiet border sounded nice.


    And even now, commanding a position on the Northern Line had a certain level of notoriety, as it was only given to people who had served the legion with distinction. This was ironic because being posted up here in any other position was the opposite and implied that they were out of favor with someone.


    It was an amusing fact and something that would change soon, but not because of anything he did. A new war would bring new fame. And the flies who feed off it.


    His gut told him the beastkin was being honest about the threat, even if half-truths were sprinkled throughout their message. But even if he took them at face value, verification would still be required.


    Panta didn''t have the same prejudice against the beastkin that many of his staff seemed to have, but he knew those with authority. "If they didn''t know how to lie, they wouldn''t be in power," Ponta whispered the old maxim of the Isles.


    Eyes focusing on the table again, he studied its surface. If he didn''t know better, Ponta would have sworn the grain on the wood was real.


    But it couldn''t be,


    Because no two trees had ever produced the exact same grain, and while he had never seen them, he knew the table had two identical siblings. One in Basetown and the other in Cross.


    The tables were a relic of the past. One of the many masterpieces that appeared when Olimpia was on the brink of collapse. A time in which every year was a scramble as dozens of legions were fielded to hold back the unending tide of beastkins. At the height of the Northern Line, the tables were able to show the real-time positions of all those legions.


    Those days were long since past, and the tables hadn''t been turned on in centuries. The last commander who did was tried by the Senate for wasting legion resources, bankrupting her family when she was forced to pay off the sixty mind stones.


    Panta had never thought there would come a time that he would look at the table and know that its time had come again. That he would be turning it on.


    Then again, he could be wrong.


    Even now, the scouts and messengers he had sent out were gathering the information, but he didn''t need it. He trusted his gut. Even if he was wrong, he could cover the cost of the mind stones. If only barely. And the beastkin controlling two-thirds of the Triad was enough to rationalize his actions, right?


    Right.


    Done justifying himself, Ponta moved to activate the table.


    With reverence, he slid open a panel on the side of the table. The bottom of the cabinet was a bronze circular tray whose edges rose an inch, making a small basin. From the three walls of the alcove, strands of what looked like copper, thick as the stem of a foot-tall blade of grass, poked out of the wood. It didn''t look like they were pushed through a drilled-out hole but rather grown from the walls themselves.


    The strands made a latticework that held twenty clear crystals, each as large as two fingers, positioning them into the rough shape of a cone pointed up.


    Placing the middle of his palm on the cone, so his finger splayed over the collective tip, Panta mentally readied himself. Hesitant at first, he pushed out a single strand from his hand, gently feeding his psy into the crystal. The moment psy entered the crystal, the table''s surface rippled like it was covered in a thin layer of water, and he kicked the table''s leg.


    With increasing speed, Panta dumped three fourth of his psy pool into the crystal, finally realizing that it could take far more than he could ever offer in one sitting. With a slight mental pull, he started feeding the Command Table the psy of his legion.


    The energy built, and Panta could feel his cape flap in an invisible wind before the table released a massive pulse of psy.


    What was once nothing more than a black surface became a far more detailed map of the northern border than he had ever seen. Then the map became topographical as mountain peaks, plunging valleys, and rolling forests formed.


    Legend said that if one ran their hand over the section of grasslands the table showed, it was like touching a million blades of grass at once. As Panta looked at the ever-increasing details, he could believe it.


    The map showed a 500 miles wide section reaching the edge of the Broken Peaks to the north to the upper sections of the Plains and Step to the south. To the west, it showed the Great Lake and stretched a little more than 1000 miles to the Weeping Peaks to the far east. In the middle of all that land sat the Triad, sitting over the junction of two rivers.


    The life-like depictions of the map became a little different with a flick of Panta''s will. It was basically the same, except for a sea of red that consumed everything north of the Rush and Twins rivers.


    A crescent moon behind a wolf''s paw was in the Western Fort, while a flicking red tail with a white tip was in the Northern Fort.


    Moving his focus from the table, he looked to the side to see his Prefect standing there. Her face told him she had bad news.


    Without being prompted, she said, "The knights scouted the Cradle like you asked. They found multiple warbands moving through the area. There are no signs of them slaughtering the inhabitance, but they appear to be setting up forts. None of them look to be going anywhere soon."


    The Cradle Flashed red. He wrote a few notes in the margins and then finished by adding a few more touches to the map.


    A 15 with a background of black stood at the Southern Fort. Over at Basetown was the number 14 and 13. And far to the west were the numbers 16, 17, and 18. Six legions left to man a border that once commanded dozens.


    Coming from the mountains, towards Bastown and Cross, were anticipated lines of attack.


    He did not know if they would see, but all of the tables were connected, and what happened to one happened to all. It was one of the greatest psy castings he had ever seen. And worth most cities. Yet it was worthless when it lay forgotten.


    "What are we going to do, sir?" Asked Prefect Pompi.


    He stood a moment, looking at the Mountain range, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. "We are going to scout, Perfect. Scout and prepare our fortifications. We can''t take back what we lost, not without help¡­ And most importantly, you are going to quietly find some rats."


    **********


    A figure in a black cloak darted into an alleyway, disappearing into the shadows like it was the union between old friends.


    Seconds after the figure disappeared, five legionaries marched past the opening. Their helms cast shadows over their faces, but light reflected off their eyes as their heads swiveled side to side.


    They were searching.


    Oh, they were trying to hide what


    they were doing. And doing a decent job¡­ for a child.


    But to anyone who knew how to listen, their minds were shouting with suspicion. The figure wasn''t even trying, but the shift in the mood of the fort and the surrounding city was like an open book.


    Everyone knew the 15th Legion was searching for something. A search that started right after the People returned their prisoners.


    It didn''t take a genius to figure out the beasts had blabbed about the Letairry. And whether the Olimpians believed them or not, things were now going to get¡­ complicated.


    A complication that the Maternal Hegemony would remember and add to the beasts'' debt for rebelling.


    What looked like any other slab of stone silently lifted up and slid to the side, revealing a hole in the ground.


    Without hesitation, the figure dripped into the hole as soon as it was wide enough, and the cover moved back into place, never making a sound. The 7th Night Corps needed to know the Olimpians might soon learn of their existence.


    End of book 1

 B2 Chapter 1

    "This is wrong. All wrong¡­" Cloktu hysterically whispered to himself in between his gasps for breath. He needed to be quiet. Could feel it.


    But he also needed to run. To get out of here.


    If only Cloktu knew where he was. Because he had never heard of or seen anything like this place.


    A clammy mist was smeared over the ground. It was still, like the surface of the water on a breezeless night. The faint light worming its way through the twisted branches overhead lit the forest and floating water in a world of gray.


    The only time the mist moved was when he ran through it, and then it would swirl around itself and his body like wisps of dancing smoke.


    While the fog appeared unmoving, every step was like running into a strong wind. Not one Cloktu could feel hitting his whole body. It was only below his knees where the mist clutched at his flesh through his damp pants.


    It made running strange and slowed Cloktu down as he stumbled every few steps.


    His head never stopped moving as it turned left to right, up and down, though. Because he knew something was out there. Hunting him. He trusted his instincts, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing tall as the gaze of the stalking predator never wavered.


    But no matter how much he searched, he couldn''t find the glowing eyes.


    "Come at me!" Cloktu screamed in challenge spinning in a circle, eyes searching the darkness between the trunks. One of his hands squeezed his scabbard while the other clutched at¡­ air.


    His head snapped down, and it was like a fist slammed into his chest, stopping his heart for an instant. Where did it go? He frantically thought as he looked at the mist-covered ground as if he had somehow dropped it. I had it when I¡­ How did I get here?


    Cloktu had been running for so long. He was trying to reach someone¡­ The Prefect! Yeah, I need to reach her.


    Taking one last spinning look at the forest around him, he turned and started running again. His mind was filled with the knowledge he had to report.


    Report what? The thought wormed its way into his mind like an eel, consuming his thoughts as he staggered to a stop.


    What did he have to report?


    He was¡­ out on assignment. What he thought was some kind of political ass-covering move. A reason to explain why they had lost two-thirds of the Triad and a third of the legion in a single night.


    Dark-skinned elves? Bahh! Who would accept that? And supposedly, they were the spies for some empire planning to attack the Republic? He didn''t know many elves, but he had never seen one of the pale-skinned bastards with anything close to a light tan, or even a sunburn, for that matter.


    And supposedly, some elves were skulking around the fort? No, he couldn''t believe it.


    When the Prefect ordered him to look around town to find any evidence, he took it as the easy assignment it was supposed to be. If there was one thing he was known for, it was tracking. He just seemed to have a knack for finding people.


    Days passed as he and his partner, Tokva, wandered the slums of Southtown, the town sprawled out beyond the walls of the Southern Fort of the Triad. Eventually, they came across something¡­ weird.


    A new gang was ruling a not-insignificant corner of the slums along the Twins.


    More than that, the usual constant jockeying and posturing of the street crews were absent. Oh, the urchins were still there. As that would trigger so many warning bells, no one with any sense would set foot on the street.


    But their eyes constantly darted to the shadows as they tried to force their tense bodies into looking relaxed. It was like they feared a monster would dart out and grab them at any moment.


    A new gang popping up and claiming territory was not strange.


    A new gang that no one wanted to speak the name of, and it not causing enough trouble that it was brought to the attention of anyone in the Legion Police ¡ª who acted as the civic guard for the town ¡ª was¡­ abnormal.


    Something was going on, and his instincts were telling him the Prefect might not be looking for a political out like he first thought.


    So he and his partner decided to skulk around the slums during the night to see what they could find.


    And then¡­ I found one.


    His eyes widened in horror as he looked around the twisted woods.


    The ramshackle half-collapsed houses of the slums could be described as twisted and creepy, but they would never be mistaken as a forest. And that was the last place Cloktu remembered being.


    I''m inside a¡ª


    ¡°Gurrp¡­" Cloktu gurgled as he felt something drive up from his gut into his chest. But there was nothin¡ª


    The haunted forest of nightmares around him shattered. And he was sitting on the cold stone ground of an alley, his back leaning against cold stone. To his left, he saw what looked like a pair of legion boots, the ground around them reflecting flickering torch light.


    It was night, and two figures hidden by cloaks stood above him.


    "They know nothing." Said a male in a harsh whisper, like he was speaking through his teeth.


    "They know we are here." Said a feminine voice in annoyance. Her voice was musical and lilting. And in other circumstances, it would have been pleasant to listen to.


    "They suspect without any belief. By the time they know, it will be too late."


    "That''s why I told you not to kill him!" The female said in exasperation, throwing up her arms, "When he disappears, they are going to know they are right! I told you to en¡ª


    "What is one soldier? There are plenty to replace him. A marshal would never notice a single pawn."


    "I told you, they don''t view their people like that. The Olimpains will notice."


    "A weakne¡ª


    Releasing his psy, Cloktu tried to send out an emergency pulse. One calling for support and contact. If someone could feel it, the Prefect should be able to intuit what he meant in his last moments.


    Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    But his psy never left his body, rebounding around a shell covering his mind. His psy almost broke through, as the shield was not expecting an attack, but neither was he expecting a shield.


    Backlash filling his mind, he saw a blur as one of the figures moved as the other clutched their head. He felt nothing for a second, then a line of pain on his neck joined the other pains wracking his body.


    "I told you not to underestimate¡ª


    He didn''t care about the rest, as it was so cold. And he was so¡­ tired.


    **********


    Derg licked his lips, picking up the blood of the boar leg he was eating, then ripped off another piece of raw meat with his teeth. While many within his clan like their meat cooked, he like the old ways.


    He liked his meat raw, preferably right after he ripped the chunk off the still-living creature.


    All around him, fires burned with every manor of game cooking as the Kin of the Crescent Moon¡­ celebrated. The mood was far from joyful, though.


    Because there was little to celebrate, and he refused to act like there was.


    While he sent a portion of his force to man the fort they took from the Olimpians, he would not make his hall in a structure given to him by that¡­ fox.


    The craftsmen were already busy clearing the ground for his great hall on the same ground that Jolten was betrayed.


    She didn''t even try to hide her trickery. Her betrayal.


    Jolten and all his mages died while the Olimpans escaped, and she slipped away after trying to save them but was forced back? Bah, no one believed those lies. She didn''t even bother to tell them convincingly.


    There was no sign of magic besides the spell Jolten was trying to cast, but that meant little. Fox magic was known for being hard to detect, even standing next to it, and her magic was harder than usual.


    Despite having no proof, he was willing to bet his life she never lifted a claw to help the elder and other mages.


    His faction''s losses from pressing on the wall and the debacle on the river were¡­ far worse than the Red Tails. Conveniently, few from the Red Tail faction were on their side of the barge bridge, letting the newly Enlightened of his faction lead the charge. And those of their faction on the barges all seemed to be at the back, ready to get to safety.


    "They knew the Olimpians knew," Derg growled to himself, voice filled with rage. Or she told them¡­ but he couldn''t say the last part out loud, not even in a whisper.


    Not without any proof.


    The Temptress and her faction told the Conclave of the soul harvest spell, but that was fine. Expected.


    If she accepted Jolten''s offer, taking her rightful place at his side and beneath the rule of the Crescent Moon, then everything would have turned out perfectly, with the Kin well on their way to conquering the Olimpians.


    That outcome was worth the risk of showing her the soul harvest spell. With their two factions united, none of the others could challenge them.


    Kanieta turning on his offered hand of peace and slapping him in the face while taking knowledge of the forbidden spell to the Conclave was also within his plans.


    Not to mention her clever manipulations, which ended up showing him up during the little battle, wouldn''t matter in the long run¡­ No matter how irksome it currently was.


    Besides, even with his faction''s losses, they still had thousands of newly enlightened. And while replacing the dead was a little annoying, there were always more where they came from.


    And one of the reasons Derg had Jolten approach her was because he was getting a little too hard to handle recently, so her getting rid of him could almost be seen as a favor. Like it was supposed to be. He thought, his lips curling in a smile behind his shank of meat.


    As for the Conclave and their annoying prattling, he would let them think they were in control for now. Their investigators would find nothing, and any pressure that was put on him wouldn''t last long.


    It couldn''t. Because while the other factions might not like it, the Crescent Moon had the largest number of warriors within their ranks.


    When the battles started, and they will start soon, he thought with a further amused curl of his lips, everyone would change their tone. Until there, all he had to do was sit back and wait.


    Mood significantly lifted compared to a few moments before Derg decided to make this a night to remember. It wasn''t every day one had such a good excuse for a feast.


    "Chieftain," said the seductively husky voice of his currently favorite mate. Derg turned to rake his eyes over her body, to her pleasure, if her further sticking out her chest was anything to go by. Once he had his fill of inspecting her assets, he raised an eyebrow in a silent question.


    She didn''t answer immediately as she looked around, which sent a pulse of annoyance through him. Before he could speak and put her in her place, she spoke almost too softly for him to hear, "She is here."


    Derg''s back stiffened, and the relaxed smile that was forming on his lips turned stiff as he looked at who around him was paying attention.


    Ripping off one more mouthful of meat before dropping the mostly eaten haunch to the ground, he stood and walked to his mate with a lecherous smile.


    Sliding up next to her, he wrapped his right arm around her and fondled her breast as he leaned in and whispered in her ear like he was saying something seductive. "How do you know about her," he growled, his tone filled with an unvoiced threat.


    Playing her part perfectly as she started to lead him away, she looked away and blushed as if any part of her was still demure or embarrassed about such simple things.


    Hand circling his wrist, feeling up her chest, she bashfully got up on her toes and whispered, "I received a message, Chieftain." A shiver ran threw him as her breath and words caressed his cheek and ears.


    The lesser chieftains around him cheered and called out to him, believing he was about to get laid.


    Derg only smiled and grunted, waving them off as he let her lead him away. She must want a sacrifice, he thought. She knows which mate I prefer her to contact. While he was loath to throw her away, it was not past him to keep the relationship good.


    Once they were out of sight of the crowd, his smile vanished. As he distanced himself emotionally from the soon-to-be dead.


    She was prattling a little too loudly as they walked. Mainly because he was not who she was talking to. The woman was saying something about the flowers in a clearing she wanted to visit, with him occasionally throwing in a few grunts to make it look like he was paying attention.


    They made their way to the edge of their camp as Valtury slipped out from his arms and jumped forward into a run. Derg surged after her, letting himself enjoy the chase as he didn''t close the distance. Watching her from behind was a pleasant distraction.


    It wasn''t long until they came to a clearing, at which point her flirty demeanor dropped away like the flip of a lever.


    "Elder," she said, bowing to a figure in the center of the clearing.


    Derg was no stranger to carnage. When he fought, he often reveled in the blood that splashed onto his body, but the sight in the clearing made his stomach flip.


    What was left of four bodies ¡ª three deer and one black bear ¡ª lay on their sides in the center of the clearing filled with colorful flowers. The fur and skin of the creatures looked so brittle that a soft breath would cause them to brake into a thousand pieces and blow away.


    Blood was in a pulsing ring connecting the bodies before leading to the figure in the display''s center. Lines of blood wrapped around the arms and crossed the legs of the figure, disappearing to nothing after traveling up her forearms.


    It was a wolf kin who looked like she was in the prime of her life. But if the legends were to be believed, she had looked the same for the last five hundred years.


    "Blood Witch," Derg said, bowing his head in a show of respect.


    "Ahh," she sighed in pleasure as, in the span of a second, the blood of the animals flowed across the ground and disappeared into her body. As she breathed out, the smell of blood and lilacs filled the clearing, "It seems my granddaughter has taken a liking to you, Little Chief,"


    Derg''s eyes flicked to¡­ Valaska? ¡ª he thought that was her name. But she preferred to be called¡­ Val. She was looking him in the eyes with a pleased expression. The previous cowering and submissive posturing were gone. Not that she needed to act that way anymore, as her eyes burned red with an inner power that was causing the air to shimmer around her.


    A message, hun? I always knew she was hiding her intelligence, but to have such strength. Derg thought as he felt her potent mana, even putting the fox to shame. His desire for Val only grew. We''ll have to make sure we stick to our claim for coming out here. He thought, his gaze turning lustful.


    Turning back to The Blood Witch, he was shocked to find her inches from his face.


    The oppressive smell of lilacs mixed with blood washed over him. "So I have decided to help you with the Conclave," a smile spread across his face at the words, "but I am going to need some, fuel."


    The way she said fuel was like a caress of a lover, and it sent a shiver down his spine as he knew she was referring to blood, but he didn''t care. "I know just the place," He said, his smile turning vicious.

 B2 Chapter 2

    I.


    Am.


    Bord.


    Forced bed rest, and not so forced because I might have fallen a few times trying to get out of bed and needed help to get back into it, is getting fucking exhausting because I can never really rest. And the annoyance at my not-so-comfy bed was ever building inside of me.


    There is only so much a person can read while sitting in bed before one wants to get up and just go for a walk. With my inability to get up and walk around, the mental weight of wanting to do anything other than reading was only increasing.


    The first week sitting in the medico ward was¡­ okay. I was still in a building with the sole purpose of resisting death until it inevitably clams us all ¡ª and the screams and groans of those wounded in the battle haunted the day and night ¡ª but I wasn''t alone.


    The beds were overflowing with the wounded, and I could take comfort that the others were forced to stay there like me. I could even talk with Tirre, the lucky bastard, for the first week.


    Then he and everyone else but me got well enough to get up and leave.


    There were still those who popped up in the ward as they rested and recovered for a day, but usually, they were too embarrassed to talk about the stupid stunt they performed to get wounded.


    And I didn''t really wanna explain why I was still there¡­ Surrounded by books.


    On one side of my bed was a pile of assorted books that one of the medico assistants brought me to read from the fort''s library. Having been around so long and being a training ground, the Triad actually had an extensive library¡­ for a legion. As in, you could find one or two books that were meant to be read for pure enjoyment.


    And it wasn''t the new books that are made in which the contents were stamped into the pages and had thousands of identical copies floating around. There were books hundreds of years old shoved into the corners of those shelves.


    The thing was, it was still a legion library, so the focus of the texts was definitely in a single direction. Most were focused on casting ¡ª which I have read ¡ª with historical books on battles ¡ª which I have also read ¡ª taking up the majority of the other section of the library. There were also some philosophical books by famous people scattered around.


    It showed how bored I was that I was currently studying a philosophical book.


    I like history books. There is much you can learn from the past. So I am used to suffering through the arid deserts scholars call their writings. Their writing could be challenging, but at least historians had the decency to stick to a single belief and not justify their simultaneous ¡ª yet contradicting ¡ª perspectives like philosophers.


    Luckily, I wasn''t actually reading the book. Not after the first time.


    Sitting on the nightstand, the other side of me, was another pile of books. All of which were the same book. They were scribed at different times, and some of them were copies of older books, not direct copies of the original, but they held basically the same content.


    When the first cart load of books was brought to me, I thanked the steward and then skimmed the pile. Within the cart, I found two books I hadn''t already read. One, really, as they were the same book.


    Reading the text, the most intriguing thing I found was¡­ a dot.


    More of a smear, really. Towards the end of the book, where the next line should be, was what looked like the author wrote a word and then scribbled it out.


    After finishing it and flipping through the other books, I looked at the copy of the same book to see if there was a difference in the story. Because I found that sometimes different authors give an interesting perspective on the same subjects, even if they were only supposed to copy the writing.


    I found the same smear in the same spot.


    Showing how board I was over the passing days, I asked the different ward stewards as they came on shift, getting them to fetch me the same book.


    The new versions, those using the press method of producing books, did not have the smear, but all the older ones did. After days of work, I had¡­ nothing.


    Only a mystery without any answer. Well, now what will I do?


    "Hi, instructor!" Called Sathera, bubbly joy and enthusiasm spilling off her.


    Perfect! I thought, tossing my distraction to the side and forgetting about it. I hadn''t had an actual conversation in days.


    I looked at her, taking in her sunken dark-rimmed eyes and the general level of exhaustion hanging around her and Bellous, who was walking a step behind her. Eyes locking on their cloaks'' clasp, a fist clamped my heart, but I was able to speak normally past it, "Congratulations, scouts."


    There is no way they had the same level of training as I did. I had six months, and this was¡­ four weeks? Five since the attack?


    But then again, the training could be rushed. Besides learning a couple of casting techniques, most of the scout training program was being pushed to your limits to see if you would break. And then lots of practice to ingrain the techniques to move over the land unnoticed.


    There is no greater motivator to learn how to be stealthy than an actual enemy hunting you. And after what they went through¡­ I don''t believe anyone could break them.


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    "And call me Green," I said, "I''m not your instructor anymore¡­" And you''ll soon outrank me. I thought, filled with a flash of resentment.


    Blinking in surprise, I looked across the room to the far wall engraved with twisting vines, my brow furrowed. Where did that come from?


    It had just popped into my mind without warning. Now that I think about it, there were a lot of things like that happening to me recently¡­


    "Ahh, yeah¡­" Sathera said, her face twisting as if she tasted something unpleasant, "Green." She said hesitantly.


    Opening my mouth to ask them why they had visited, Sathera burst out, saying, "Green, GReen, greeN, GREEN, grEEn, Green!"


    Blinking at her, I coherently stated, ¡°Uhhhh¡­ What?"


    "She did the same thing to me when I first met her," Bellous said in amusement.


    "It helps me remember names," She said defensively. ¡°But¡­ it might not work with you."


    The last part was whispered, but my sharp hearing picked it up. "What? Can''t remember my name? Don''t my ears resemble leaves close enough to think of green?"


    Sathera''s mouth hung open for a second before her face flushed, and Bellous started snickering behind her. "No!" She shouted emphatically before becoming even more flustered. After a moment, she stammered, "It''s just that¡­ well, you didn''t teach us long. But¡ª you''re Instructor Green!"


    I smiled fondly at her, waving off her embarrassment, "No, no, I understand. But give it some time. Once we start working together, you won''t see me as an Instructor."


    She nodded, her face still flushed slightly, but I could tell she didn''t believe my words. That was alright. She would in time.


    "I really," I looked around the empty room of beds. I kind of wanted them to be filled, but then I would want my brothers and sisters in arms to be harmed. Which didn''t appeal to me. "Really, appreciate having someone to talk to. But don''t you have better things to do?"


    "Nope," Sathera chirped, throwing off any embarrassment she felt a moment before like she was throwing off burning clothes. "Not until tomorrow," she added.


    I raised my eyebrow in a silent question, and Bellous spoke up, "We finished the minimum for Centurion Markus to sign off on making us scouts, but he won''t send us out on our own until we have more experience. We are heading out along the Twins on patrol in the morning."


    Nodding in understanding, I looked at them again. While most scouts get "thrown into the fire" immediately after graduating as a write of passage, it wasn''t unheard of for new scouts to shadow older ones. Shit, throwing them into the fire was more of a hazing than anything else.


    The older scouts mirrored them, trying to spook them into thinking beastkins were around without being noticed. The really skilled scouts would try and get the new ones to release a pulse of contact or fire off a weapon into the forest.


    Even with the teasing, the scouting does gauge how much chaperoning the new scout needs.


    That was for regular scouts.


    A scout with a rushed program in no way had the techniques beaten into their bodies to the point of being called proficient. They needed time and missions to practice on. Going down the river would do just fine.


    And it would be far better than their first mission, where three-fourths of them were killed¡­ Some teacher I am.


    "Hemm!" Bellous cleared his throat as he looked a little uncomfortable. Oh, shit. Must have let my emotions show.


    "After what happened¡­" I said, their bodies freezing as I spoke, "You two will make great scouts." I genuinely meant what I said, letting my emotions leak, and from who they both shuffled in place from embarrassment.


    ¡°¡­What about Kathren and the others?" I asked after a few seconds of the silence pressing down. "I heard she was alive, but¡­ no one really knows much around here," I said with a shrug.


    Sathera''s face flashed with sadness, "Ohh, I''m so sorry. You have been here this whole time with no news."


    "Not no news," I said, looking around, "If there is ever a battle, I''ll hear. No news is good news within this building."


    ¡°Yeah¡­ I guess it is," Sathera said with a forlorn look as she looked around.


    "Anyway, tell me what''s new. Starving for information here." I said, scooting up on my bed and motioning to the side. I paused as the chair I pointed to had a pile of books on it.


    "I got it," Sathera said, and before I could move, the books lifted and lowered to the ground.


    As she settled down, Bellous gabbed another chair bringing it over. "Kathren and the others are fine," Sathera said first thing. "They got a little banged up from the battle, but nothing a quick visit to the medicos and some rest couldn''t fix."


    "How did they get hurt?" I asked, confused. As scout trainees, they shouldn''t have been anywhere near the fighting.


    "You don¡ª Of course, you don''t," Sathera said with a shake of the head, "They were positioned at the Middle Fort during the attack. Even the militia was called up, and we are veterans." My mouth formed a silent oh in understanding. "From what they said, it got wild up there. Nothing like what happened to us, though." She said with more than a hint of pride.


    "I doubt anyone will ever be able to top that story," I agreed, satisfaction filling me as well. I might not have been awake the whole time, but I damn well played a part.


    "As for the Triad as a whole, not much has changed. The Legatus sent a delegation to talk to the beastkin, but little is known about what happened. It''s been pretty hush-hush. We have patrols ranging along the Rush and Twins, which the beastkins are mirroring with their own bands. We know they are occupying the Cradle¡­ Oh, and we got a report that Basetown is being pressed by¡­ normal? beastkin."


    "The mindlessly savage kind?" she nodded in response. "So no help is coming from there," I stated, and no one disagreed.


    "Without reinforcements, I¡­" She stopped and looked around the empty room before leaning forward and speaking softly, as if someone would overhear, "I don''t think anyone would follow the order to attack. We lost a third of our legion ¡ª and it was only that low because the beastkin returned so many prisoners ¡ª and most of those losses are veterans. The rest of our legion is comprised of those still in their first term of service. And the militia and fish faired far worse, as their forces lost half of their combined numbers. No one believes we can take back the rest of the fort."


    She sat back, looking like she had done something wrong. ¡°¡­You''re right." I said after a moment.


    Sathera and Bellious blinked in surprise, startled that I would agree. "We saw what they can do when attacking; what about defending? If we attack and fail, probably suffering heavy losses, they will just take the whole fort. No, the legat won''t risk opening up all of the Republic to attacks. We are on the defense until help comes. What really matters is what the beastkins actually want."


    They nodded in agreement, and we sat silently and contemplated the future.


    Finally, Sathera broke the silence, and we started to talk about light-hearted subjects.


    When they were getting up to leave, Bellious finally asked, and I wondered if he would, as he had been eyeing it for the last hour, "Why do you have ten copies of the same book?"


    "Haha," I let out a bark of a laugh, "took you long enough to ask. Okay", I said placatingly, as his face started to turn red as if I was playing a joke on him. "I had nothing else to do," I said in my defense, "and in every old copy of this book, I found the same spo¡ª


    My head snapped up at the same time as theirs.


    A pulse had washed over us, signaling a legion to the south. The legions south of us are¡­ Ancestor protect us. I thought as the blood drained from my face. Politics have come to the Triad.

 B2 Chapter 3

    Panta stood above the Command Table, a frown touching his lips. While the situation shown on the maps was worthy of his concern, it wasn''t the cause of his displeasure.


    While the circumstances at the Triad had radically changed a little over a month ago with the attack, since then, the situation has remained relatively the same. The beastkin held the Northern and Western Forts, and not once since has the legion been able to see what was happening behind the walls.


    All that those on the Middle Fort could see was a dome of shifting blurs. Scouts reported thousands entering the Northern Fort, but not once in all that time was so much as a single sound from within the walls heard. Forget someone actually seeing inside.


    The knights reported similar domes within the Northern Forest and in the Cradle. Along with bands of beastkin numbering from a few dozen to thousands roving the countryside.


    None of the scouts he ordered across the river to try and sneak inside the domes returned. He did wake up to find three scout pins on his nightstand the next morning, which was a¡­ pleasant surprise.


    Even with the full might of Olimpia behind him, Panta no longer had faith in winning a full-scale confrontation with these¡­ Kin. He was reasonably confident that was the proper term, but not completely. Mental note, check on the terms before talking to them. Underestimating or insulting the Kin again would only lead to failure. And even if the legions did defeat them, Panta suspected it would be a pyrrhic victory.


    On the other hand, he was becoming increasingly certain the Red Tail Faction of the Kin had not lied. Not about what mattered.


    They had made no move to attack and focused on securing and fortifying what they had already taken. The few skirmishes the 15th had with beastkins were off on the western shore, and from the reports, they all were wolven of bird beastkins. The giant bear men and multi-tailed foxes on the northern shore only mirrored the knights and cavalry they came across without much hostility. Making it clear multiple factions existed within their force.


    It was a weakness he could potentially exploit, but that was a subject for the future when they had the means of doing so.


    Despite what most would say, Panta thought the situation at the Triad was stable, if not as in his favor as he would like.


    To the west, things weren''t looking nearly as good. It was all just¡­ bad luck.


    North of the city of Cross, a line of forts stretched between the Great Lake and the Northern Forest. Those fortresses could have once housed an entire legion each. But with the threat of the beastkin becoming nearly nonexistent, most had been decommissioned.


    The last word that Panta heard on the subject was that the governor of Cross had knocked down the number of active forts to three, spread out across some three-hundred-fifty miles.


    A single legion manned the forts if you could call what they did manning, as most of the legion was composed of light cavalry. The fortifications acted as little more than supply dumps. It was a perfect plan to catch the small bands of beastkin constantly flowing down the Funnel ¡ª the stretch of land between the Great Lake and Northern Forest ¡ª into the grasslands.


    Sadly, either Panta''s message on the Command Table was too late, or no one ever saw it because the first message from Cross was that the 17th legion was pulling back from the forts. Their full losses were still unknown, but it was estimated that 17th was, at best, at half strength.


    The 18th legion was also moved off into the plains, where it was noted that they were conducting some kind of training.


    In the following weeks, the 18th was set upon by a hoard of ten thousand beastkin that came from nowhere while they were marching. Luckily the losses were light, but it significantly slowed them down, as they were starting to be attacked nearly hourly.


    As a response, the 17th ¡ª who actually ended up fairing far better than expected, only losing 2/10th of their force, most of which were those trapped in the forts ¡ª were sent out to act as a screening force for the 18th. Four days out from Cross, the force ended up in the middle of three hoards of beastkin, numbering around four thousand each.


    The ensuing running battle ended up costing half of their numbers, putting them around two thousand five hundred capable horsemen from their original force of six thousand from five weeks ago. The 17 Ala ¡ª which is comprised of five turma, each with thirty men ¡ª of cavalry barely made it back to Cross, the beastkin nipping at their heels up to the gates of the city.


    Beset from all sides and with no chance of reinforcements, the 18th legion beelined for the shores of the Great Lake. Where they had to fight through another hoard of beastkin that just so happened to appear in their path right before they arrived at the small town of Scaly Peak. The weirdly named town was placed on a bluff overlooking the water and acted as the trading center for the local fishing villages. Making it the best place the beleaguered legion could defend.


    Another interesting occurrence ¡ª that was historically inaccurate according to all records Panta had read ¡ª was that while the 18th was dealing with thousands of beastkin, the walls of Cross were relatively quiet. In all past accounts of beast waves, the walls outside Cross had a perpetually rolling sea of beastkins as they poured into the grasslands while skirting the Great Lake.


    But the maps showed there were hardly enough beastkins outside the walls of Cross to justify staying behind them.


    As the western side of the Command Table stood now, the 16th was securing Cross, the 17th was raiding nearby hoards of beastkin and scouting, and the 18th was waiting to be pulled out by boats or for legions to march up from Scipio. Exactly what was going to happen was still being decided.


    While the events in and around Cross could in no way be called good, at least he knew what was happening to the west.


    From the time this had all started, the only word he had received from Basetown was a public notice delivered by a mounted messenger that the city had spotted, "Unusually high numbers of beastkin coming from the Broken Peaks."


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    Putting aside the understatement of the century, the messenger had no more relevant news. He had only stopped in Basetown for a matter of minutes after coming from the mining camps. But he should have heard any big news spreading through the city.


    Apparently, the events of the Triad did not count as big news because the courier was astonished to learn that a hostile force currently held two-thirds of the Triad. And even more shocked to learn the force was inelegant beastkin.


    Panta stopped the messenger from returning, sighting some article in the legion manual that he needed all capable people of fighting age.


    Really, Panta just didn''t want to see another young man die for no reason. And that would be exactly what happened if he let the messenger return to Basetown. It was apparent all messages were being cut off along the journey.


    There was no longer a doubt in Panta''s mind. Even if the beastkin had never told him there were secret forces of another empire infiltrating Olimpia, who could also control beastkin, he would be wondering. Looking over his shoulder for someone pulling strings in the shadows.


    The misfortune Cross had suffered was too convenient. It appeared Derho Cross was writing off the events as bad luck, but some of the notes he left were¡­ suspicious. Like he didn''t fully believe that everything happening to his legions was all just a coincidence.


    From what Panta knew, the man was clever, if young, and his instincts would serve him well. If someone doesn''t put a knife in his back first.


    Panta wanted to warn him, but an open message on the Command Table, where anyone in all three forts could see, would do no one any good. And such a claim needed proof.


    Proof that lay in the memories of all the dead legionaries scattered around Southtown.


    If the squads marching around the streets weren''t obvious enough, squads marching around with their hands clutching swords and staring down anyone that came close, along with the fifteen bodies found around town, made it clear. Something dangerous was inside the walls.


    More than the deaths, the whole situation was causing him a growing headache. The morale of the fort and town was plummeting as the bodies were found, making civilians increasingly scared to walk outside their doors. The growing fear is joining the grumbles about his leadership, saying he cost them two-thirds of the Triad, creating an increasingly tenuous situation in the town.


    Luckily word of the dark elves hadn''t gotten out, but it was only a matter of time. When it did, he would have to be prepared to contain the mobs hunting for elves in the streets.


    Regardless of how poorly things were going in Cross or what had to be a dark elf plan brewing in Basetown, an even more pressing problem was causing his frown.


    "What a dump!" echoed the problem''s pompous voice through the fort''s hallways. "No engravings on the walls! No tapestries or paintings! Has the Void already taken this barren wasteland? Kumu!"


    "Yes, Milady." Said an old man.


    "Did I die? Am I now in the Void?"


    "No, Milady."


    "Then why was the only statue I have seen since coming here, Utolos Demolos? He is an important figure and deserves his place in the main square, as he held the Triad with a mere three legions against a hoard of one hundred thousand, but why aren''t there others? I mean, if you want a story to aspire to, it is a good one. Did you know that he never lost a single fort?"


    "No, Milady." Stated the person who had to be the valet of the little noble in a dry tone that never fluctuated.


    "Ohh, yes. It is recorded that Utolos said he would rather die than lose a single fort. Sure, by the end of the battle, the legions under his command dwindled to just over a single over-strength legion, but such is the cost for greatness." The feminine voice managed to sound regretful at the necessity as she stated the last part. Like the death of fifteen thousand legionaries was normal.


    And most of those deaths were to preserve the ego of a man who blustered when he first took command by saying, "no part of the Triad will ever fall under my command."


    The statue acted as a reminder to all commanders of the Triad. A reminder of how the Triad was designed. That no single side was worth holding if the losses to hold it would be too high.


    So long as a legionary stood on the walls of the Triad, they would reclaim it all.


    Now a snot-nosed brat who had never been outside of their parent''s house was trying to shame him with that fact.


    Shoulders pulled back and spine straight, Panta stood with his hands clasped behind his back, looking at the Command Table.


    He ignored the inane remarks perpetually spewing from the noble. He was not the only one letting the voice wash over him by the sound of it. Even her voice could not drown out the stomping of a dozen feet approaching his room. And of far as Panta had heard, which was admittedly a lot sooner than he would have thought possible, he had not heard a single other person so much as say a word. Other than the valet, but the old man hardly counted. It was his job to answer.


    It was anyone''s guess whether those following the noble thought that anything they said would be drowned out or only invite the wrath of a fickle noble. All that was clear was no one was saying a word.


    "Halt and identify yourself!" Shouted one of Panta''s personal guards stationed outside the door of the Command Center.


    He didn''t need to shout quite that loud, but Cetlon wanted to ensure he knew someone was outside the doors.


    Now was one of the times that he needed the warning the least, as the racket the group had made was enough to wake the dead, but a leader never criticized good habits in their subordinates. Especially the subordinates he trusted his life to.


    In the past, the number of personal guards he walked around camp with would be one at most, but with the recent events, he was not one to take chances. A minimum of six were with him at all times right now, four in the room and two outside.


    "How dare you!" shrieked the affronted noble. "I am Lady Shree Ponpti, the new Tribune Latic of the 15th Legion! I bring with me the Legatus of the 3rd Senatorial Gaurd, Numok Hellieous, who will rectify this unmitigated disaster."


    "Tribune Po¡ª


    "Tribune Latic!" Corrected the noble, her nose no doubt stabbing the sky. Panta couldn''t help but shake his head at the woman''s actions. His guard was trying to give her respect, but she didn''t even know enough to shut the fuck up.


    "Trubune Latic," Said his guard in a notably more frosty tone, "while you and the Legatus are, of course, welcome to enter, but your¡­ aids will have to wait out here."


    ¡°¡­W-what~!?" Spluttered the Trubune Latic, ¡°H-how¡ª dare~ you!"


    "The Legatus of the 15th Legion, Commander of the Triad, and Guardian of the Northern Line has ordered that only essential personnel may enter the Command Center, Tribune Latic." Said his guard flatly.


    More grumbling and rattling of swords followed, but eventually, a scowling young woman, followed by a middle-aged man, barged into the room, their followers remaining outside.


    The woman had a pinched face and small button nose, long auburn hair falling to her back, and wore a long white loose dress clasped behind the neck, leaving her shoulders free. Her arms were covered in gold and jade bracelets, and a belt of woven gold strands hung at her waist. At least she''s wearing boots.


    Panta could not bring himself to do more than glance at the man. He was wearing armor. But the gaudy equipment would do better in the trash than on someone''s body. It does look pretty with all those gold and silver inlays.


    "Legatus Valee," Sneered the woman without bothering to salute him, "If you do not immediately mobilize your legion to retake the Triad, you will be charged with dereliction of duty by order of the Senate."


    Lifting an eyebrow, Panta just looked at the pair. "I see."

 B2 Chapter 4

    Within two hours of the Senatorial Guard arriving at the gates of the Triad, I had been forced out of my nice comfy bed. And anyone who says I was bitching about and trash-talking the wonderful creation for weeks is an Ancestor forsaken liar. That bed was my beloved, and now it was gone.


    A plain but usable pair of leather boots, brown canvas pants, and a cotton tunic were tossed onto my chest as I was settling down for a well-deserved nap. It had been a long day of reading and conversing with visitors, after all.


    Some might say I was going to bed early after doing nothing but sitting on my ass for weeks. But they have obviously never sat in a bed most of the day reading, interspersed with periods of healing. The small sessions of healing and venting kept me at the same level of physical fitness as I arrived, though it was more painful than normal healing.


    And yet, after all their supposed care, I found myself, after a matter of minutes, standing outside of the medico ward leaning against its wall with orders to report to the scout barracks.


    I knew I was expected to report immediately ¡ª what order is delivered without expectation of immediate compliance? ¡ª but the orders I was given weren''t so specific, and I felt no real rush. There was also the concern of if I was able to do it¡­ but a legion doesn''t concern itself with what''s possible, only what is required.


    Turning my head, I looked at my arm planted against the wall.


    During the minutes I was being quickly ushered out of the ward, the steward might have helped me get to my feet. And acted as a post while my feet got their shit together and started moving in the same direction. And kept me standing while my knees didn''t want to stay straight.


    The steward getting me out the door was all fine and good, but me leaving his rocky replacement, which was keeping me standing, was another matter entirely.


    Carefully lifting up my left leg at the hip, I flopped my leg to the side. It was like fighting that sausage in a pan that refused to cook on one side.


    After an annoyingly long time, I got my leg to lock in place and used it more as a post to keep my back pressed against the wall.


    The strange looks I was getting from those walking down the street quickly disappeared as I became another man leaning against a wall instead of the insane person kicking the air.


    I looked across the thirty-yard street, watching the river of life go by, my free hand flexing at my waist, searching for the hilt of a sword that wasn''t there. A growing urge inside me didn''t want to get any closer to them. I don''t trust them¡­ I thought, then blinked in surprise as I realized what had just passed through my mind, then wrinkled my brow in concentration.


    Such a sight of people was nothing new to me. I had seen whole legions moving together in the field. And walked through cities containing three times the population of the Triad within their walls. But I had never seen so many people moving with purpose within the Triad itself.


    Not that I had suddenly become afraid of being around so many people. No, what had me on edge wasn''t so simple as a phobia.


    Maybe Sathera didn''t notice as she was out training. It could have been that she didn''t want to see it, so she didn''t. But I suspected she didn''t want to overly concern me while I was still recovering.


    A hundred legionaries were within my sight, but I was not looking at a single unit of a century or the representatives of the 15th. I was looking at a collection of individuals.


    The acrid, corrosive tang of suspicion filled the air. It was so thick it was seeping into my mind like contaminated groundwater into a well, and I found myself looking at those who were passing by like they were a second from jumping at me with a drawn dagger.


    I started tracking the occasional civilian carrying bundles of food, clothes, or any of the other thousand things a legion at war needed and found they were even worse than me. Little bubbles had formed around them, and anyone that stepped into them caused the skittish individuals to shy away.


    It was¡­ honestly not a place I should be with the condition my mind was in.


    Closing my eyes, I started taking slow, steady breaths to calm my racing heart. I flexed my arms and abdomen before releasing the mussels and shaking out the stiffness.


    The anxiety had seeped into my body without me knowing it was happening.


    Tentatively, at a pace that would make a snail''s epic journey look like a flash of lightning, I force myself to reach into my mind and touch upon my pool of mental energy. The barest edge of my will brushed against the mental energy, and the result was like dropping a crystal vase from a five-story building.


    All of my mental energy in my core surged out and scattered around my body. Stifling a small groan of discomfort as the wild energy caused what felt like miniature cramps across my whole body, I set about gathering up some of the mental energy.


    It was like trying to usher thousands of droplets of oil to one side of a bowl of water. The slightest wrong motion or a smidgen too much willpower for one instant would cause everything I had gathered to scatter once more.


    And just touching the mental energy was like trying to catch a fleck of dust floating in the air with your hand. The rapid movement of my will would drive away what I was trying to catch.


    After around twenty minutes, I finally gathered enough energy to¡­ form a shield around my mind. A task that should have taken me nothing more than a thought, a fraction of a second, took me twenty minutes.


    It wasn''t just the mental and soul damage I suffered. That was an issue. And it was precisely that. Was, as in, it was an issue that had already passed. Should have already passed.


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    According to the doctors, I was perfectly healthy and could be released anytime. But my head was filled with so much external mental energy that they were keeping me around to make sure I vented it properly so I didn''t have an aneurysm and suddenly die. Or so they said¡­


    My inability to stand normally or control my mental energy was also a concern for the medicos ¡ª or more like a topic for a research paper and the real reason I was being kept around. And no one could understand why I was having so much trouble with what should be simple tasks.


    During the trip on the river and¡­ events in the Northern Fort, I could see now that I wasn''t thinking the best at the time. My thoughts were clouded and kind of slow, and while using mental energy was excruciatingly painful, I could do it.


    Now it was like¡­ Every day of my life, I had been walking into a strong wind while carrying a fully laden legion pack, and now it''s finally gone.


    Everything was just so easy now. Too easy. It didn''t matter if I was trying to be careful. I was using a sledgehammer for what required a child''s finger.


    No matter how hard I tried, I could not shrug off a lifetime of expectations and practice.


    I felt fine, and the medicos told me I was fine, but every time I tried to move, to use my mental energy, I expected a fight that never appeared.


    What made me feel like shit was the struggle I was having with my mental energy. I devoted my life to increasing my control and mastering mental techniques that were dangerous. So dangerous for me specifically that I should have outright died attempting them.


    Yet I kept hanging on by the tips of my fingernails. Suffering silently through the mental damage I brought onto myself over and over, reaching past my limits. Ignoring the pleas for me to stop.


    Ignoring Bark. My eyes stung, and my lips twitched as I tried to keep my face straight as the memory of her voice reared up within my mind, "Damn you, child! Why is it that I see you more than my assistant!? Do you want to die young?"


    She was abrasive and difficult to deal with, but more than anyone else within the Triad, she was my family. And she was crushed while saving the lives of those who hated her.


    I pushed down my flaring anger at the beastkin. At the legion. At Kanieta. The republic. It wouldn''t do anything for anyone.


    Steadying my breathing again, I released my clamped eyes and fists, then solidified my shield with my willpower.


    The rest of the mental energy lazily swirling around my body, I ignored. It would either work its way out of my body and dissipate into the surroundings or collect back into my core.


    Either way, I was done fumbling my way around my own power as I tried to control it like a child. With my mind shielded, it was time to move along.


    Keeping one arm stretched out to keep in contact with the wall, I started shuffling down the road. Within ten feet, my steps improved from an infant taking their first steps to a drunken pirate.


    I was still in the process of falling over, but at least I could say I was falling over as an adult. That doesn''t really make it better, though, does it¡­


    Keeping my mind focused on the positive, I continued walking until I reached a challenge that was just too much for me. No person could possibly achieve such a feat!


    "It''s ten feet¡­" Snarked Kathren to my side.


    "Can''t you see me ignoring you here?" I said, not looking at her standing in the shadows of the alley, "I''m kind of busy."


    Okay, I got this! I thought, pumping myself up. I can do t¡ª


    ¡°¡­I''m sorry¡­" She said softly, sounding guilty.


    "For?" I prompted, not really paying attention as I eyed the steps I would have to take.


    "I left you and the others¡­ I heard about what happened¡­ An¡ª


    "Oh? I''m so sorry. I didn''t see you there." I said, finally giving her my full attention as I drew myself up and gave my sloppiest salute. I think I have reached a new peak, I thought, marveling at my own performance of indifference.


    ¡°Wha¡ª


    "I mean, I thought you were a subordinate I didn''t have to give two shits about as they followed my orders. Not a superior! Are you a lofty Legatus in disguise?!" Finishing, I turned away from the stunned woman, my assault finalizing within my mind. "Now excuse me, ma''am."


    Confidently pushing off the wall and planting my foot forward, I immediately collapsed.


    My step was solid. No one could say shit about my step!


    Someone could talk about how I was so focused ahead I didn''t use enough focus on keeping my back leg strong as I stepped.


    Ahh, fuck! I thought as I tried to twist my body and throw my arms out to land on my back, but all I did was flail my arms around and tweak my back as I angled my fall to land on my shoulder.


    Thin arms slid under my body, but any thoughts I might have about their weakness vanished as my fall was stopped cold.


    "Is falling over anyway to greet a superior?" Kathren asked, her voice slightly tight as she tried to speak in a joking manner.


    "That''s the good thing about being an elf," I said, flashing a smile as she lifted me back to my feet, "everyone expects us to have the manners of gutter trash."


    "Re''lly?" Kathren asked, sounding just like every street rat I had ever interacted with, "Meybe I shal le''ve ya here''s to get yer''elf more aqu''nted with ta tresh?"


    ¡°Ahh¡­" I said, feeling an instinct it would be worse to say nothing as I cursed the Ancestor for my stupid blank mind.


    Kathren smiled at me, but as I looked into her brown eyes, there was only a vindictive amusement. All she did ¡ª all she had to do ¡ª was take a step back and give my chest the smallest of pushes.


    It was all that was needed.


    My eyes widened, and my butt clenched as I felt myself falling backward, throwing out my arms to grab onto something. I found that I was square in the middle of the alley, with my only source of help a scorned woman¡­ Feck.


    Accepting my fate, I let my arms hang at my sides, only for something to press into my back, pushing me forward and balancing me out.


    I felt a body slip under my arm. Looking down from where my eyes were focused on the cloud-dotted sky streaked with the crimson of the setting sun, I saw Kathren taking most of my weight onto her shoulders.


    She looked up at me with dancing eyes, her lips quirked in amusement, "Never thought I would stumble back to the barracks with someone and not be wasted."


    "It''s the draw of the legion," I said, "you never know what you will experience or what will be over the next horizon."


    "Sore feet, a shit bunk, and rocks for food?"


    ¡°Shh¡­" I Hissed, looking around and eyeing everyone around us, "You might give away some of our secrets!"


    Kathren snorted in amusement, and we walked down the street with my arm thrown over her shoulder.


    As the minutes passed, I was gradually able to pull most of my weight off the woman. I was nearly collapsing every dozen steps, but I was improving!


    There was nothing like the motivation of wanting to stop relying on a woman a head shorter than me to walk. The looks thrown at me were bad enough, but my back was starting to hurt as I walked half-hunched over.


    Just as I was about to suggest walking by myself, a voice called out from the passing crowd, "Scout Green! It''s so good to see you again!"

 B2 Chapter 5

    Looking over, I saw¡­ an elf with a broad smile walking toward me.


    Her hair was such a pale blond that it almost appeared white to my eyes. She looked familiar, but I couldn''t quite place her. ¡°Ahh¡­" was all I managed to say as I suppressed the urge to say I didn''t recognize her.


    "Luna," said the she-elf. "You saved me when the fish camp was attacked."


    "Ohh!" I exclaimed in recognition. "It''s, ahh, good to see that your okay," I said awkwardly with a smile as I rubbed my head.


    "All thanks to you," She said with a radiant smile. "I have been meaning to come and visit you in the medico ward to thank you properly, but I could never seem to find the time."


    "It''s, umm, fine. There is nothing to thank me for. I was only doing what any legionary would do." I stated, waving off any thanks she might have felt.


    After a moment, I thought I saw a frown flicker over Luna''s face as her eyes shifted to the side. "And this is?"


    My body stiffened as I suddenly felt the two lasers burning into the side of my head, "Ahh, my apologies. This is Scout Kathren." I tilted my head to the side as I spoke without taking my eyes off Luna and her red lips and high cheeks.


    "Nice to meet you," Kathren said, her frigid tone shouting that it was anything but.


    "And you," Luna said, her voice not nearly as warm as a moment before, saluting Kathren in greeting after a beat of silence, "As I said, I just wanted to say ''thank you.''"


    "Now you have," Kathren said, her arm around my back, forcing me to turn and start moving. I kept my eyes on the elf as I was turned, unable to fight Kathren but still not wanting to look away.


    "But!" Luna called out, stopping Kathren in her tracks as her voice was so filled with pleading and hesitant uncertainty that turning away would be like kicking a puppy, ¡°¡­Umm. I was wondering if we could ahh¡­ meet up and chat sometime, Scout Green?" The way she said my name was like a caress and made me shiver in longing. "I know it might be presumptuous, but I th¡ª


    "Can''t," Kathren said, cutting Luna off, "We have orders to go out on patrol tomorrow. We have to prepare."


    "Ahh, I see." Luna said, dejected, "We must all answer when the legion calls. Another time then?"


    "Yeah, some other time." I immediately agreed as Kathren pulled me down the street. I continued to look over my shoulder, but with the street as busy as it was, I hardly made it ten steps before the flow of traffic shifted, and she was blocked from my sight.


    When I first saw her as I rushed into the fish camp, all that came to mind was a woman covered in blood and dirt. Sure, I noticed she was an elf, but that was because there weren''t many of us in the 15th.


    At best, a legion only had about ten percent of it made up of elves. The 15th was far worse than that, for whatever reason. Wonder why that is¡­ It probably doesn''t matter. I thought, shrugging off my concern before my hopeful mind returned to the conversation. But I wonder if she¡­ Nah, it can''t be. Don''t be ridiculous.


    Throughout my time at the Triad, I probably have seen most of the elves stationed here on occasion, either at a distance or talking to¡­ Bark. Most were pricks to me, with only a few being decent folk. ¡°Huh¡­" I said, my brow furrowing. "that''s weird."


    "I know, right," Kathren said to my side.


    "What?" I asked.


    She looked at me incredulously, "A fish came right up to us and asked you¡­ On a date? That''s what happened, right? I wasn''t imagining it."


    "Eh, not that strange," I said, and all I got was a blank stare and silence in return. "Elves are very¡­ insular," I stated after a moment of bobbing my head, searching for the right word.


    "Oww!" I grunted as I reached around with my right hand rubbing my side. "Why did you do that?" I tried to get away from the bully, but something about my feet not working and her controlling one of my arms stopped me.


    "Don''t start using big words around me. Thinking you''re a noble or something now that girls come walking up begging for ya dick." She scoffed at me.


    "I was¡ª Ugh, she¡­ Just. What!" I shouted in exasperation.


    Kathren looked up at me and flashed a teasing smile. "I''m just making sure you are still the same grumpy loner elf I met all those weeks ago."


    All I could do was look at her in slack-jawed incredulity, which caused her to burst out in a snorting laugh, doubling her over. "I''m not a grumpy loner," I grumbled as I stumbled, catching myself on the wall a step to the side.


    She looked up at me, tears streaking down her red face, and burst out laughing again, "It''s like¡ª you actually mean it!" She gasped between sucks of air.


    With people starting to look at the crazy cackling person, I straightened my back and started moving away. No need to associate with that. I thought, but the laughing followed behind me as I shuffled along.


    Someone hunched over laughing could not be called fast, but I was slower. Try as I might, I could not put distance between us. Eventually, the peals of laughter stopped, and I heard a few quick steps before she appeared at my side.


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    "You know I was here weeks before I met you waiting for training to begin, right."


    ¡°Yeah¡­" I hesitantly said, sensing a trap.


    "As I watched the scouts go out on patrol, talk to each other, and generally live around camp, you always had a mad, slightly displeased look. And you were always separated from the others. Even the fish knew to stay away from the angry scout elf." She explained. "I really can''t remember a time you spoke that wasn''t about giving, receiving, or clarifying orders."


    I opened my mouth to say I had plenty of conversations¡­ with Bark. Outside of her, who have I talked to?


    "Feck!" I finally said, expelling most of my annoyance with the word. After a moment, I held out my arm, silently asking for help crossing the street. I''m an old man, aren''t I? I was getting better, but I still had no trust in myself.


    Without a word, she offered her arm, and we started moving. "So why wasn''t it weird?" She finally asked.


    "Huh? Oh," I said, distracted by trying to keep my feet pointed in the same direction. "Elves use our time in the legion to find a spouse. Marrying anyone within our villages is frowned upon. And traveling to another village often isn''t possible or easy. So it''s generally accepted that so long as we are in the legion, we are still looking. According to custom, no one of superior standing can pursue one of lesser standing without the lesser one initiating the courting first."


    I turned to her and tried to put a swagger in my step that only made her laugh again when I almost fell on my face. "Ahhemm," I said after catching myself and continued walking like nothing had ever happened. "It might not be the case for humans, but me being a scout makes me quite the catch." I stuck my nose in the air to prove my point.


    "Really?" Kathren asked. The skepticism in her voice was so thick I could cut off a piece with a knife and smear it over a piece of bread to eat.


    "Have you ever seen an elf Centurion?" I asked but continued talking without waiting for a response, "Don''t bother thinking too hard. The last elf Centurion was two hundred¡­ thirty¡­ four? No, six years ago. Two-hundred-thirty-six years and it was given posthumously. The number of current Optios can be counted on one hand and guard commanders on maybe two. The only position elves can achieve with regularity is a common veteran legionary, which you have to give after a certain length of time in the service, so we can''t be denied."


    I looked to the side and saw Kathren''s eyes darting around in thought, her steps slowing slightly as she focused on other things.


    ¡°I¡ª Damn~. You''re right." She whispered in shock, like she didn''t know what she was saying. "Why have I never noticed?" She asked, looking me in the eyes.


    "No one ever does," I said with a shrug. "but that''s not the weird part¡­"


    "What is." She prompted me as I fell into thought and didn''t continue.


    ¡°¡­If I retire now, my stipend will make me one of the wealthiest elves in any village. I can support, raise, and protect a family. Shit, even if I was a complete and utter asshole, some she-elf would want to marry me. But that was the first offer in¡­ I don''t know how long. And most of the other elves in the camp have been avoiding me for years¡­ like I have done something wrong." I whispered the last part, and the searching look Kathren gave me told me she didn''t hear what I said.


    "It doesn''t really matter," I sighed, looking away.


    "Sureee~" Kathren drawled, ¡°¡­And the grumpy elf wonders why he''s alone." She said it like it was supposed to be to herself, but it was too loud to be so.


    At her words, I tried to frown at her but found my face was already set into one. I couldn''t stop the snort of amusement at the realization. "Grumpy indeed."


    "Yep." She agreed, voice filled with amusement before we fell into a companionable silence.


    The evening passed as we shuffled through the camp, and soon it was becoming twilight.


    We walked on the edge of the crowd the whole time we traveled, and those in the center were constantly passing us. The trip took several times as long as it should have, but Kathren never said anything about it, only talking about inconsequential things.


    But no matter what we spoke about or how much time passed, she remained within arm''s reach, ready to catch me should I fall.


    On the bright side, the walk allowed me to take in all the wonderful sights of a fort preparing for battle. The curses ringing off the walls from a multitude of voices melded into an endless poetic stanza of profanity.


    I got to see the borderline panic lurking behind the twitchy hands and forced smiles of the militia. And then compare them to the active legionaries, who were doing a better job of hiding their feelings as they had the more recent practice. One could hardly hear the brittle centers of their laughter. Their overly hard back slaps, and too many glances over their shoulders were the only thing giving them away.


    Another fight was coming, and a festering wound was lodged in their minds. It was pretending to be the memory of the battle of the Triad, but in all the weeks that had passed, it hadn''t faded in the least. No, the memory had only distorted.


    The rotting puss oozing out of the memory was leaking into their minds every night they weren''t blacking out from wine. Or moving away from the Triad. Neither of which was possible at the moment.


    Every time they looked to the north and west and saw the might of the beastkin looming above them. Enveloping what they were sworn to protect, what they failed to guard.


    Simply put, the mood of the Triad was like walking through a sewer, except for the mind. And the lumps of shit bobbing along the river of piss were the Senatorial Guard.


    Those arrogant pricks walked down the street, their chests thrown out as they looked down on all that was around them with scorn-filled eyes. It was to the point that I was legitimately surprised those next to them could even breathe, as they were next to windbags trying to suck up all the nearby air.


    They pointed to every chip in the stone walls, saying how something like that would never be allowed in Olimpia. They commented on the gear of the 15th as they strutted around in their unscarred shining armor. Not to mention the endless remarks too loud to be for their group, commenting on how they had to ''come all the way up here to bail out the rejects.''


    The challenge of supplying the beating the bastards were begging for was willingly taken up.


    I saw six fights start as we walked. The 15th and militia were clearly on the losing side in four of them. One of them, the Senatorial Guard, was swamped as they opened their mouths when they were surrounded by numbers. The last was surprisingly even.


    While the last group could not be called brilliant, they still put up a decent fight.


    That was the thing about the Senatorial Guard. While their leadership was often lacking, to put it mildly, every other member was, at the very least, a veteran. If one looked past the flowery and meaningless language that suffused the historical texts about the Guard ¡ª which I have ¡ª one could read between the lines that the legion had ground their way to victory despite their leadership.


    A fact everyone knew but few would outright say. Because all it would do was bring up the embarrassing past actions of those who now comprised the senate.


    The sun was barely peaking above the wall of the fort when we walked up to the scout''s barracks.


    Ten feet from the door, I heard a haughty voice shout, "Get the fuck out of here, you trash! You lot don''t deserve to be in the same room as us!" My face went blank as I felt a flair of anger rising up inside me.

 B2 Chapter 6

    Before I knew what I was doing, I saw my hand reaching for the wooden door of the barracks and pushed.


    It was not a push with my body. I didn''t even extend my arm or exert myself because I never got the chance. The moment my palm touched the wooden door, long smoothed out from use, the forgotten remnants of the mental energy scattered throughout my body ¡ª that for whatever reason still remained inside of me ¡ª exploded out of my palm in a telekinetic wave.


    The wood cracked and splintered as it vanished from before me. Leaving a vail dust hanging in the air.


    "Ahhh!"


    ¡°Wha¡ª


    "Gah!"


    Standing behind the nearly nonexistent cover that was vanishing far too quickly for my liking, the anger and suspicion clouding my mind vanished. Shit.


    Thinking on my feet, I bounded off the stoop, plastering a look of shock and disappointment onto my face as I spun to face Kathren. The plan was perfect.


    Betrayed by my feet, I face-planted into the stone floor as the tip of my shoe caught on that tiny crack on the ground you had to squint at to see. My fall continued, and I tumbled down the two steps leading to the door before coming to a stop.


    Blinking away the spots, I saw Kathren ¡ª and it did not escape my notice that she was now standing to the side of the doorway ¡ª staring at me with a look of shock and disappointment plastered onto her face, amusement flickering in the depths of her eyes. Clever girl.


    I started to give her an innocent smile, but I heard and felt a whoosh of air pass over me, and then my body was lifted into the air and spun around.


    "Hey, how you doing?" I asked the glowering handsome man holding me by my shirt half a foot from his face, "Do you know you have a splinter in your cheek?"


    The man blinked at me, taken aback by my casual demeanor before the tendons in his neck burst out, and his left cheek started twitching. "Who. The fuck. Are you?" Growled the man, his eyes burning with an inner fire.


    I opened my mouth to give some flippant response but stopped. Whenever I had done something that annoyed a noble in the past, I played the fool.


    It was easy. Make them mad, take a beating, then make yourself scarce until they forget.


    That was what I had always done, so long as I wasn''t actually on a mission for the legion. But I don''t want to bow my head.


    Looking the man in the eye, the anger that made me brake the door seeped into my mind again as I said, "Who the fuck are you to ask me that." It was like his head was thrown back, and the anger disappeared as his face showed more shock than it would be if I had struck him. "Now put me down."


    The arm twitched as if he was actually going to follow my order, but then the whispers behind him corrupted his thoughts. Ahh, so close. His neck tendons returned as his jaw clenched, and his cheek started twitching again.


    "I am Galic Ryarch, heir to house Ryarch, a Guard Commander of the scouts in the Senatorial Guard. Who are you¡­ elf." He sneered at the word elf, like the fact the breath and touched his lips was a stain on his honor.


    "I am a scout of the 15th legion. And this is my barracks, not yours." Looking past the man, I saw the faces of my ex-trainees pocking out of doorways and looking down the hall at me.


    Standing outside of the doors keeping my fellow scouts trapped in their rooms, were legionaries decked out in black and gold uniforms. The chests of their black tunics had gold threads taking the shape of a scroll over a legion shield.


    It was a blatant symbolism that anyone who looked would see. The senate scroll of law and the legion shield of defense, but every legionary knows there is a sword hiding behind the shield.


    The only indication they were scouts was the pin holding their gold-trimmed cloaks together.


    If the veteran Senitroal Guard legionaries were known for their marshal competence and grinding their way out of trouble, their scouts were known for getting them into it. Or not doing anything to stop them.


    Just from what they were wearing, all that flashing metal woven through their clothing, I knew they were useless. No real scout would ever wear such gaudy items.


    Then again, they weren''t known for being stealthy but for being borderline knights.


    The noble shit holding me pulled me close enough to his face that I could see his teeth between the small gap his venomous smile revealed. I could even hear a growl clawing its way out of his throat.


    Then I felt like a hoarse kicked me in the chest.


    The wind howled in my ears as the ground rapidly passed below me as I began to rotate in the air. My back caught on to something, and then everything blurred as I tumbled over the ground.


    With one last chest lurching thump, I flopped to a stop looking at the stone nearly touching my eyes. I smelled the dry grit of the earth, and as my hands slid over the ground, I felt grains of rock tumbling along my skin.


    A moment of mild annoyance later, after I had driven my arms into the earth, I was on my feet brushing off my clothes and the rocks embedded in my palms.


    Twenty feet away, the young noble was stepping off the bottom step leading to the doorway. His hair was black, and his eyes a dark brown. His skin was a dark olive, and I saw what looked like a few moles scattered over his face and neck. If I got close and inspected his face, I was half convinced I would find freckles scattered over his nose and round ears ¡ª I could not see the slightest of points amid the dark locks of his hair.


    Not that I would, as I had no desire to inspect his body that closely, but if I did and found them, I wouldn''t be surprised.


    The man exuded pure-blooded noble with every fiber of his being. I might not know his house, but that was because I was common trash. I could look at appearances as well as the next man, and he might be the most human person I have ever seen. Which means he has power.


    "You know," I said in a conversational tone, "you nobles pride yourselves on your bloodlines. On making your selves look the most¡­ human." His eyes were squinted at me in confusion as I spoke. "But I just remembered something I read. Would you like to guess what it was?"


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    "Haa! Look at this! An elf claims to be able to read!" Mocked the noble.


    Ignoring the comment and the jeers coming from his lackeys in the doorway, "It was a commentary on The Mad Scholar''s Wall. You know what it said," everyone had gone deathly silent, "it said that humans only have mental abilities because of intermingling with the elves. And with all your family''s breeding, you can never get rid of the elf blood in your veins¡­ as it is the source of your mental powers. So should I call you brother?" I threw my arms wide, welcoming him to run forward and leap into them.


    Slowly but surely, the man''s face twisted with wrath, and a red flush crept up his neck and onto his face.


    He had a man wearing the mask of a demon. And the creature of instinct would enact his vengeance, but I didn''t care.


    I pulled the mental energy from my core.


    A few mere hours ago, my core was empty. It was an accident on my part, but since I didn''t bother to gather up my scattered mental energy, it should, at best, be a third full. The thing was, I didn''t collect the energy because I knew I didn''t need to.


    Since I had woken up in the medico ward and first vented my mental energy, I knew I was different. It was far more than the fact I could no longer control my mental powers or stand.


    I could feel my body sucking in the ambient energy like a sponge, and as I drained my core, it was already refilling at a steady pace. Within twenty minutes of emptying my core, it would be full again.


    The energy flooding into my core, I also started pulling on. It spread a hollow feeling through my body like I hadn''t eaten in days, and I felt like my mind was cramping from over-exerting itself, but what did that matter? At any time in my entire life I had ever exerted myself, I felt the same exact way, but instead of now only lasting for a few seconds after I stopped pulling mental energy from my core, it lasted for hours and possibly even days.


    I focused the initial burst of power down my arms, and with every beat of my heart, I filled in my chest with the constant trickle. It was like holding a water skin under the flow of a stream, it''s gonna take time, but it will be filled.


    Bringing my arms in front of my face, I turned my forearms to face outward, creating a bulwark.


    Though my arms were filled with mental energy, I had not fully solidified and reinforced it with my willpower. It was like the difference between someone having spent years of practice holding and using a shield and someone just being handed one. But I did enhance my body.


    A mountain struck in the center of my forearms. Looking between the gap in my arms, I could see the self-assured sneer on the prick''s face as my feet left the ground from the impact.


    "Gahh!" I grunted as my back smashed into something unyielding.


    My mid forearms to my shoulders throbbed like someone had beaten them with a log, and they were so numb I couldn''t raise them.


    I looked at the noble, the malicious expression covering his face melting away into astonishment as he raised his eyes to me from his hand. "How in the Void did you block that?"


    Bearing my teeth, as it was all I could do while holding back the whimpers of pain, I bent forward at my waist to smoothly get to my feet.


    Jerking back, I tried to keep my balance and get my legs under me as I began to fall¡­ again.


    As it turned out, I had not smashed into the wall behind me hard enough to make a crater. It sure as hell felt like I did, though.


    Blinking and shaking my head to clear it, my bearing of teeth turned into a genuine smile. I looked the noble in the eye and mustered the strength to raise my arm before my middle finger popped out like it was attached to a spring.


    Red flooded his cheeks as he stopped, unable to process the sight. When he started walking, he was so mad that his body radiated mental energy, and every step came down with enough force to crack the stone beneath.


    My eyes flicked past the noble, and I saw Kathren running forward, a knife clutched in her fist, her face screaming murder. I locked eyes with her for an instant, long enough to give the smallest of shakes of my head, trying to signal her to back off before looking away.


    The barracks doorway was a churn of bodies as the others fought with the scouts of the Senatorial Guard, either holding them back or fighting to get out. I couldn''t tell which, and it didn''t matter.


    Focusing my eyes on my approaching death, I looked him in the eyes, then at my middle finger, before returning to him. I was even puckering my lips to blow him a kiss.


    His hit would, more likely than not, kill me. Unless he missed.


    But how could the man miss when I couldn''t move?


    "STOP!" Roared a voice that demanded to be obeyed. I even thought I saw dust lift off from the ground and hover in the air as pebbles jiggled as it sounded.


    My ears had a ringing in them that died out a few seconds after the voice sounded. Turning my head, I wasn''t surprised to see Markus standing in the street intersection two barracks over. The other scouts collecting behind him were new, though.


    Where''re the thunderclouds? I thought as I looked at his dark face. It was quite the sight. With the setting sun and the angle he was holding his head, it was like everything below his distorted brow was cast in shadows.


    "Hey, Centurion!" I happily called out, trying to turn my middle finger into a wave, but it ended up as more of a wiggle of the fingers.


    "What happened here." Asked Centurion Markus.


    "Ahh. Well, these black cloaks were trying to kick our newest scouts out of our barracks. I arrived and accidentally shattered the door. Sliver face over there took exception and assaulted me." The noble''s head snapped to me, his eyes burning with hatred. Though the intensity of the look was ruined as one of the slivers in his face, which he took his name after, fell out of his cheek. ¡°And¡­ here we are."


    "Why are you here?" Asked Markus, his voice cold.


    The noble, blood rolling down his cheek, raised his head. "I am here to receive proper accommodations along with my men. You can not expect us to¡ª


    "Shut up." Said Markus. His voice wasn''t loud, but it cut through the noble''s arrogant speech as it was laced with steel. "You are not of the 15th and have no authority to do anything. I can have you lashed for what you have done."


    "It was self-defense! He assaulted me first!" shouted the petulant noble as he gestured to the blood running down his neck.


    "From what I felt of his words, it was an accident. And the medicos did just release him for a head wound affecting his mental powers. So are you saying a mentally damaged elf wounded you?" Asked Markus. He sounded curious like the answer was purely academic.


    The noble faces contorted from anger to shame and finally settled on scorn as he turned up the street, facing away from Markus, and started walking away. "Leave these elf lovers to their hovel!" he shouted over his shoulder, not looking back.


    Even if he didn''t look at me or say a word, I knew this wasn''t over. Galic Ryarch would not forget this soon.


    I looked at Markus and the gathered scouts behind him as he stood there silently watching the noble. I felt a mixture of anger and resentment rise up in me.


    On the one hand, Markus did stick his neck out for me. But his threat was empty unless the noble kept pushing, and it appeared he had given up for now.


    I didn''t know shit about the noble''s family, but Markus must have known something about the family''s political power. Because he didn''t say anything as the noble walked away without saying another word. He didn''t even bother to salute the superior he was just talking to.


    And, of course, it''s all because I''m an elf¡­ I thought, wallowing a moment in self-pity before pushing the negative emotion away.


    "Thanks," I said to Markus as he walked up to me. He nodded in acknowledgment and grunted as he offered a hand to me. My arm didn''t yet have the strength to grab onto his forearm, and my hand flopped against his bracers, but he grabbed onto mine and pulled me up anyway.


    With a few unstable steps and Kathren appearing to steady me further, Markus looked me over. "You need a medico?" he asked.


    "Nah," I said, rolling my back and slowly flexing my hands. "Just bruises."


    "Good," he grunted, looking up at the darkening sky, "Now get to a bunk and go to sleep. It''s gonna be a long day tomorrow."


    "Sir!" I said, performing something close to a salute as Markus turned and walked toward the barracks.


    "A pity," said a sickly sweet voice that could not hide the poison underneath, "I hope you are fine." I watched Celeste pass, my eyes narrowing in annoyance.


    Then I sighed in regret as I took in the man she trailed behind. Cockroaches never die. I thought as Vlore didn''t so much as turn to acknowledge me.

 B2 Chapter 7

    "Green." Called a distant voice, but I didn''t really care.


    I was at peace. I felt whole. And I knew turning toward the voice would strip away that feeling.


    The lush grass around me was more welcoming and comfortable than any bed I had ever laid in. The scent of flowers filled the air, but the smells stayed tantalizing to the nose, never collecting into a single overwhelming disjointed odor.


    Overhead I heard the creaking and rustling of branches and leaves as the wind slowly shifted them.


    I was at home.


    "Green, wake up." The voice called out once more, and I distantly felt my foot be moved.


    I needed to get up. I knew that. To respond to the voice, I just could not bring myself to move.


    "Go, child," whispered the wind that brushed my cheek. Looking up, I faced the tree blocking out the sky with its golden leaves. A tree that was so wide that as I stood at its base, I could not tell if it was round. "you may always return."


    A sad smile touched my lips. I knew it was true. After all, I had come here every night since returning to the Triad. But it did not take away the feeling of loss welling up inside of me. Of the growing sense that none of this was real and I could never return once I left.


    Gathering my will, I turned away from the Ancestor, The Worldtree, and faced reality.


    The moment the great tree left my sight, my eyes popped open.


    I saw a blob looming above me, hands reaching for my neck. Snapping out with a punch on instinct, I drove my fist into the blurry figure''s chest, making it stumble back.


    "Gahh," grunted the figure.


    Sweeping my legs to the side as I tried to spin to my feet, they got caught in the blanket, and I fell to my stomach.


    Lifting up my head, I looked at the figure rubbing its chest across the room, making no move to attack me. Given a moment to think, my mind started to clear, and I realized I might have overreacted. A little bit.


    "Good punch," Said a slightly strained but extremely familiar voice.


    Rapidly blinking a few times and rubbing my eyes, the shadows of my room snapped into focus. Though it was still night, the tiny amount of light from the small window near the ceiling was more than enough for me to see clearly. So long as my mind and eyes weren''t clouded by sleep.


    "You know," Markus said in a hushed voice as he stood straight, "I had faith that you would be the one to break the trend of scouts attacking me when I wake them up in the middle of the night."


    "Stop waking us up in the middle of the night?" I asked, hoping going back to sleep was an option. "And is it that common for you?" I couldn''t remember ever being attacked while waking someone up, but I also hadn''t done it that much.


    "The heavy non-violent sleepers tend not to survive when something sneaks up on them in the forest. In the past, you were always fully awake before I got close, so I never learned which you were." He said with mild amusement before his voice turned serious. "I got your new gear." He said, gesturing to the side of the door as he moved toward it. "Get kitted and meet me outside. Don''t wake anyone up."


    Not making a single sound, Markus opened the door and slipped out of my room. Eyes moving to the side after a second of watching the closed door, I looked at the lumpy pile of cloth and sighed.


    I sat looking at the equipment, blanket wrapped around my shoulders, trying to soak up the last remnants of safety and comfort this bed had to offer. And it was this bed, not my bed, because no bed was owned by an individual until one has slept at least one night in it. And that, as of now, was impossible, so it is not my bed!


    While I had received my orders, until my feet hit the ground, I was still in the final fleeting seconds of comfort before officially embarking on a mission that I could feel in my bones would be long and grueling.


    I could tell this from the pile of equipment that looked suspiciously like what I would take with me on a mission spanning weeks¡­ We scouts were trained to pick up on these kinds of subtle clues.


    Throwing off the blanket, I slid off the side of the bed. It would have been nice to get to know her rather than be forced out while I was halfway finished on the first night, but it was what it was.


    Ignoring the cold prickling at the bottom of my feet and hands as I planted them against the solid objects which kept me standing during moments of unsteadiness, I carefully moved towards the door. Reaching the pile, I pulled the cloth covering the pile to the side.


    "Shit," I hissed as I saw the equipment laid bare.


    As I moved, I constructed a hopeful fantasy in my mind that I would find the uniform and gear of a Senatorial Guard. And that my mission would be to infiltrate their ranks to search for a spy threatening the stability of the Republic. But no~, it was plain old scout equipment.


    Searching the backpack, I found clothes on the top and slipped into them before strapping on the weapons and other gear. That was, of course, after I dragged the objects to the bed. The dragging might have been done by me crawling over the ground, my left hand stretched out behind me, grabbing the cloak, a single wool sock half on my right foot.


    But who''s watching to say what really happened?


    Standing at the door, I carefully adjusted my belt and backpack, settling their weight. Slowly, my hand reached up, grazing the clasp holding my cloak together. Three ash leaves, one layered on top of the next, their points making a ninety-degree angle.


    A tree that permeated the outer edges of the Great Forest where I grew up.


    I looked in the direction I knew was the southwest, in the direction of my childhood home. This wasn''t just a guess, either.


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    The small compass on the inside of my forearm, along with the other three I checked over my weeks in the ward, told me it was the southwest.


    There was a constant calling from that direction. Like the inviting smell of a bakery in the morning, tempting me to turn as I walked past. And I knew, at the core of my being, that should I enter, I would be welcomed like an old friend.


    I longed to turn and start walking, damning everything else until I reached whatever was calling me.


    Try as I might, I could not convince myself I was wrong. That I was feeling something that didn''t exist.


    I could not force myself to believe that the memories plaguing my mind of the different Dawn Trees I now remember encountering in my life were inaccurate. All figments of my imagination.


    But I knew they weren''t.


    As clearly as I now knew I had a soul, I knew I had spoken with two branches of the Worldtree. One a matter of weeks ago and the other as a youth. In one of my childhood not-so-grand adventures into the forest, my friends and I stumbled across a second Dawn Tree. Well, that was actually the first, huh?


    And yet, ultimately, the encounter didn''t matter. By the time we returned to the village, the adventure had become nothing more than another trek through the forest as we faintly remembered spotting a few interesting trees.


    But it did happen. I knew it was real.


    And I was being called to the heart of the Great Forest. To take up a task and fix something that¡­ had been festering for longer than I could imagine.


    I wanted to go. I couldn''t remember anything I had wanted more, but if it was so important. If the mental call was so strong that I could feel it thousands of miles away, then why the hell was it left unattended for so long?


    Why was the mantel dropped in the first place if it was so important?


    And most of all, why was I able to remember now? What did it mean?


    So¡­ So many questions. Questions that, if I could find any answers at all, would more than likely require me to leave the 15th Legion as I went off on a grand adventure into the heart of the Great Forest. And then what?


    Assuming I survived the trip, which was by no means a guarantee, what would I be without the Legion?


    I didn''t have any other skills.


    At best, I could be a village hunter like my father. Not a bad life, but it just didn''t appeal to me. I wanted¡­ more.


    Not that any of this mattered. Because the Legion had been the bastion of my people for as long as anyone could remember. They sheltered us when mobs hunted us through the streets and gave us coin when no one else would imagine hiring an elf. The Legion kept my people alive.


    And I would not abandon the 15th in what might be its greatest hour of need. My sense of duty, pounded into me by my father, would not allow it.


    The Ancestor was asking for help, and I would answer the call. But what would it matter if I waited a few more years?


    For all I know, I thought in wry amusement, I''ll forget the moment I set out.


    Squaring my shoulders, I gently pulled open the door before poking my head out. After a quick look up and down the hall to ensure no one was walking around outside of their rooms, I stepped out.


    I didn''t have a reason to hide what I was doing, but Markus seemed to be trying to keep whatever this was quiet.


    Walking down the hallway, I made sure to be super stealthy as I scuffed my feet against the ground on nearly every step.


    As I exited the barracks, Markus called, "over here." Looking to my right, I saw Markus standing in the gap between this barracks and the next. A red glow illuminated the bottom of his face.


    Following the wafting smell of tobacco, I carefully made my way over to him.


    "You know," I said when I arrived, looking at him smoking his pipe, "I hope the mission isn''t anything more than walking across the street because I can barely do that. What time is it anyway?"


    "Midnight," Markus said through puffs on his pipe, not saying a word to my smart-ass remark, instead gesturing down the street with his pipe. "Let''s go."


    Setting off at an easygoing walk, Markus enjoyed smoking his pipe while I staggered along behind him, trying to keep up.


    It wasn''t the weight of what I was carrying that was causing my problems. It was like I was carrying an overly large object. My center of balance was constantly being thrown off.


    After a couple hours and a few scrapes on my knees and hands, we were walking up the stairs to the outer wall of the Triad on the other side of the fort.


    Stepping onto the battlements, beads of sweat pooling on my face, I saw Markus leaning against the crenelations looking at the Northern Fort.


    The dome surrounding the fort let off a glow of constantly shifting colors, causing the waters of the Twins to ripple like a kaleidoscope. The sight was pleasing to look at, but it still sent a shiver down my spine.


    Markus twisted his upper body around to look at me as he smoked his latest pipe of tobacco, then gestured to my right with his head.


    I turned and saw a lone figure leaning against the crenelations thirty feet away, their back to the Southern Fort. Continuing to look past them, my eyes swept down the length of the wall, and my brow wrinkled in concern. The battlements were suspiciously empty. The nearest person besides the lone figure was a hundred yards away. Whipping my gaze back at the figure, the skin on the back of my neck prickled in unease.


    The figure turned to face me, and the shifting light of the dome licked across her form, revealing the purple strips running down her legs.


    Instinctually, I moved to salute when a surprisingly soft but unyielding voice said, "None of that, now. Come over here, and let''s have a talk."


    Obeying one of the people with my life in their hands, I moved over to who I recognized as the Prefect of the 15th. It really wasn''t that hard of a thing to figure out with the feminine voice and purple stripe.


    As I settled in next to her, looking at the Northern Fort, she began to speak, "You have served the Legion well, Scout Green. And have more than proved your loyalty. But with the world we find ourselves in, I must ask you to open your mind as I ask you, are you loyal?"


    Opening my mind didn''t matter to me, as I hadn''t gone through the effort of closing it. I felt a twinge in my head, and before I could gather my thoughts to form an answer, words began pouring out of my mouth, "Loyal to the Republic? It''s better than the alternative. To the 15th Legion? For now." As I spoke, I could not find the emotions within myself to care about the consequences of being so honest.


    My faith in the Legion had always been a given, something I had never questioned, but now I felt a seed of doubt. Why should I offer undying loyalty when I have never received it. I was still willing to die in service for the 15th Legion, but maybe not forever.


    Pulled out of my thoughts as the Prefect started speaking again, I listened to her, a hint of something filling her voice, "That is fine. There are many that think the same." she paused, and I felt a pressure in my ears, and the sounds of the world stopped. "Now that we are alone, let me speak frankly. The Senatorial Guard has marched in with visions of grandeur dancing through their minds. And they have the authority to either make those visions a reality or create a colossal disaster for the Republic. The 15th will be roused for combat soon because a day south of here, there is a new bridge over the Rush. At some point between there and here, two more legions of the Senatorial Guard are quickly marching. There will be combat in the morning, if not before."


    I took in the information for a second, my eyes flicking to the side of her face, and my stomach began to drop. "Why are you telling me this," I asked, hoping my thoughts were wrong, "I am no great tactical mind, and I can''t even walk straight."


    "Yes, I heard." She said in a dry voice, causing my face to flush, as she no doubt heard the sounds of my few mishaps on the stairs. "But you will hardly have to walk at all. As you have the best relationship with Chieftain Kanieta, all we have to do is get you across the river."


    A fist gripped my heart, and my lip twisted as I stifled a beastly snarl of rage. ¡°Fuck!" I said, filling the word with all my repressed emotions.

 B2 Chapter 8

    My eyes widened a moment later, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. ¡°I¡ª I''m sorry, Ma''am. I didn''t mean¡ª


    "It''s fine.¡± She said, waving me off, ¡°I have heard far worse in my time. We are asking you to relay a message that will brand you as a traitor should you be caught. And most likely get you killed." She didn''t ask the question, but she didn''t need to. It was hanging in the air between us like a rotting body.


    Will I go?


    She couldn''t force me to do it. If she ever gave me such an order, I would be within my rights to refuse it and report her to the Legion Police. Shit, some would even try to blackmail her even with as little as she had said. But I had never been one of those people and now was not the time to start.


    Because there was something far more pressing than getting one over on a superior. "Why is it necessary?" I asked.


    There might have been the slightest crook on her lips, but it could have just been a shadow because it was already gone. What I did see was her shoulders released some of the tension holding them back, and her stance became more natural. "It''s all due to the information you came back with." My instincts pricked as she spoke, telling me we were being watched, and I turned to look into the fort, my eyes searching the darkness for our watcher. But I saw nothing. "It appears that most, if not the entirety, of the message, was correct. Our search for the dark elves has brought up nothing but bodies, which is an answer in itself. The situation at Cross is grave and not appearing to get better, and Basetown could be worse. No hoard numbering in the hundreds of thousands has been spotted, but the historical data suggest it is coming if the current trends continue. The Legatus believes, and I agree, that we have no real chance of dislodging the Kin if they want to stay. More than that, we need them as allies if half of what they say is correct."


    She sighed, and I turned back to see her hands resting on the battlements clench, filling the area with the sound of straining leather from the pressure she was exerting. "Olimpia is not ready for a beastwave. We have not been for a long time. A beastwave that is being controlled and guided to accomplish strategic goals will destroy us before we can gather enough of our strength to put up a fight. So we need time and allies."


    "And one of our potential allies, we are about to attack." I finished what she left unsaid.


    She gave a sharp nod at my words, "The Politicians don''t want to see, or can not see, that we are not facing normal beastkin. And they aren''t even looking for the bigger game that''s afoot. They see what they want, which will kill us all." She left unsaid unless someone interfered. But we both knew that I was going.


    "What do I say?" I asked, looking at the shifting dome covering the Northern Fort.


    "What I have told you. Anything else that you can think of to explain our short sited stupidity. The Senatorial Guard will not stop until they retake the Triad, and the Legatus cannot stop them from attempting it. Once we have control of the Triad, he will have the authority to prevent them from going further, but we must drive them out first. We do not even know the battle plan because they do not want to share the smallest shred of glory, " The Prefect shrunk in on herself at that moment, like a heavy load was pressing down on her shoulders. "You will have no authority. You can offer nothing that will be guaranteed. And you will probably fail, and the cost will be your life."


    She didn''t give an order. Couldn''t give me one. She was asking me to die for a slight chance. But if our legions are overwhelmed, and the Republic is ravaged, my family. My people will be among those who suffer. Even if I hated the Republic with all my being, I would still go if asked. Because I believed the threat was real. "When do I leave," I asked, cracking an uncertain smile.


    For a moment, I saw the woman behind the iron will of the Prefect. The Prefect''s delicate mouth parted as a relieved smile lit her face. The small scars on her forehead and jaw added character instead of detracting from her beauty.


    "Now." She stated, her mask of duty falling back into place as she stepped around me.


    I turned to keep facing my superior. And I saw the Prefect reaching forward with one hand, "Don''t scream," was all she said before her hand reached my chest.


    Like an idiot, all I did was watch her. When she pressed her hand into my chest, it would normally be called nothing more than a bump. Maybe a pat. A bump I could shrug off without issue. But with my condition, the push made me stumble back.


    I could move my feet no more than half a step before hitting the battlement''s railing. All it took was the slightest tap against the back of my knees, and I started to fall.


    The shock of my superior trying to kill me, along with my legs giving out, was the final straw of me pulling myself back to safety.


    Over the trip here, I had actually almost started walking normally. But it was the normal for someone not quite grasping what they were doing. Every movement was hesitant and had a slight stutter at the beginning. But as soon as they are knocked out of the mental zone they found themselves in, their actions would become a floundering comedy.


    Now I was playing the fool, as my legs gave out and my butt planted onto the stone ledge. Sitting on the battlements would typically make for a good seat with a view if one didn''t mind the hundred-something-foot drop to one side.


    But my fall backward didn''t stop, as my backpack suddenly became much heavier, like someone was tugging on it with a rope.


    My hands scrabbled at the stone, trying to find purchase as I slipped past the crenellations to either side. I even reached for my mental energy in desperation but only succeeded in causing it to scatter across my body. The flash of pain caused my hands scrabbling at the stone edges of the crenelations to lose their grip, taking my last hope.


    Continuing my tumble backward, I fell into the open air.


    I looked at the Prefect in betrayal, her face an emotionless mask. Before disappearing from my sight, she mouthed, ''don''t scream.''


    Her command didn''t matter, as the drop into open air had caused my balls to be sucked so far up into my chest that they were keeping my mouth clamped shut.


    Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    The edge of the wall fell away from me, and my throat burned as I clenched my jaw, trying to suppress my fear of my fast-approaching death.


    At least until I felt my fall become more of a tug, as the straps of my backpack dug into my armpits, pulling me away from the wall and further out into the river. The distance between me and the wall increased to dozens of feet, and then suddenly, I felt a lurch of an impact slowing me down.


    It was like this one time the adults of my village held the edge of a sheet and tossed the children into the air by pulling the canvas tight and catching them in its tight center.


    But instead of landing once on a taught sheet, it was multiple rapid thumps, one after another, slowing my fall. At the same time, I found myself plunging into a tube of water that sealed itself shut at the top and followed down after me.


    The water walls of the tunnel flickered with the light of the dome. After half a dozen impacts and going ten or more feet below the water''s surface, I fell one more time before sinking into something that was smooth and cool that completely enveloped my body before pushing me out to rest on top of it.


    "That must have been fun!" said a chipper feminine voice before it turned sullen, "I never get to have fun!"


    "You do that every other week, Kaloma." said a dry male voice.


    Looking over, I saw two knights, their helmets off, lounging on the opposite side of the bubble of water I found myself in. The water under me, though it rippled as I poked it, was more like gelatin. And even when I pulled my hand away after driving it up to my wrist, my hand still dry came out dry.


    "It''s not the same, Lammy! I have to do everything!"


    "Then what am I doing all those times?" Asked the man in long-suffering exasperation.


    "You are doing what I tell you. Which is the point!" She pouted, "Where is the surprise and excitement! The spontaneity! I want to leap from the wall and not know safety is waiting at the bottom like him!" She pointed at me at the end as if my bloodless face and shaking hands proved her point.


    "The name''s Veelam, by the way. And would you want to do that again?" He asked, a single eyebrow crooked in question.


    I opened my mouth as they looked at me expectantly, only to find it dry, "Hehmm," I grunted, clearing my throat, "Umm, maybe if I knew someone was waiting at the bottom to save me."


    "Ha!" Veelam said, looking at the woman in victory. She was already turned away, her arms crossed over her armor. "Ahh, come on¡­" The man grumbled.


    The woman didn''t move, and as the man reached out for her, her body slid across the surface of the water without any apparent means of moving. Getting to his feet, the man strode over the glowing water like it was solid ground as he chased after the woman trying to catch her. A struggle ensued, in which the man tried to touch or, at the very least, cause her to look at him, but he never got close.


    Finally, he leaned against the bubble and sighed, ¡°Fine¡­ the next week we have off, I will wait in the river for you at the usual spot."


    "Yay!" Yelled the woman as she leaped from the side of the bubble where she sat and jumped over to the man shouting, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"


    "Ahhh," I said, feeling incredibly awkward as I watched the two knights, wanting to interrupt them before they got more intimate. "What are we doing he¡ª"


    I trailed off as when the woman''s body hit the man, it collapsed into a wave of water, washing over Veelam.


    "Huh? Ahh, damn. Ya got me." The man sighed, settling back down, not a drop of water sticking to him. "Are we almost there, Kaloma?" he asked, trying to reform the guise of professionalism so long since past that flowers were growing where it was buried centuries ago.


    "Booo!" Cried a voice from behind me. "Can''t even stay focused for ten minutes, Lammy? For shame!"


    As I turned to look at the voice, I blinked in surprise at the voice next to me. The woman knight that collapsed into the water a moment ago was now sitting with her legs crossed, eating something out of a pouch.


    "Peanuts?" She asked, holding out the bag for me after a moment of me looking at her in shock. As I stared blankly at her, she asked, "Like my water projection? Pretty good, huh."


    "Why do you practice such a useless skill?" The man asked in mild annoyance.


    "Hey!" Kaloma shouted defensively, throwing her bag of nuts at Veelam. He caught the bag and started eating them as he lounged on the water bubble. "You never know when we might need a distraction! Oh! We''re entering the tunnel!"


    Before she even got the last word out of her mouth, the flickering lights dancing over the bubble''s surface vanished.


    I jumped as the darkness dropped over us, and all at once, I couldn''t see my hand in front of my face. Adrenaline pumped through me, and my heart started beating rapidly.


    Absolute darkness was not my friend. It might have had something to do with how I had only encountered it a few times beyond closing my eyes. It just didn''t sit well with me.


    It was hardly a couple of seconds after the darkness fell that a yellow light flooded over me. Veelam was holding a sunstone in his hand.


    Looking around, I saw rough stones above me through the slight shimmer of the water bubble flashing by.


    "We have been digging this tunnel out since the attack just in case. While their shield goes through water, it doesn''t go that deep into the ground. We have some that will pop up in the fort, but this one will open up a few hundred feet from the walls on the eastern side of the Northern Fort." Even as he was speaking, I saw the movement of the stone overhead and to the sides slowing down. Before I could say anything, the water bubble opened up, and I saw an earth stairwell leading up.


    "The Kaloma and Veelam water transport service, has arrived! All passengers, if you would be so kind as to disembark, we will be on our way!" Rang out Kalmoa''s chipper voice.


    I looked at her new location and saw her hanging off Veelam''s shoulders, reaching for the bag of nuts he was keeping just out of her reach.


    "Welp, good luck," Veelam said, As the water wrapped around me, lifting and moving me before depositing me at the bottom step of the stairs. "Walk up the stairs, and when you reach the top, push through a layer of turf covering the top."


    At the end of the word, I heard a *blurp* of water, and the light vanished, leaving me all alone in the darkness.


    I stood for a few seconds breathing in the earth around me and taking in the rapid series of events.


    Reaching out for the wall, my fingers found the soil, it slightly giving way underneath my touch. Taking a breath to regain some equilibrium, I slid my foot forward and began slowly making my way up the stairs.


    "Ahh!" I screamed as I felt something brush over my neck after far too long in the pitch-black tunnel. And it was in a totally manly way.


    After a few hesitant swipes of my arm and getting control of my breathing, I ripped open the grass sod, the welcoming light of the moon greeting me.


    Crawling into the surrounding tall grass, I lay on the ground for a moment, resting and taking in the fresh air.


    After catching my breath, I carefully grabbed my unstrung bow from where it was strapped to the side of the backpack and used it as a walking stick to get up.


    My father would be the first in line to berate me for using my bow in such a way, but you can''t use a bow if you can''t stand. And it was a long walk to the gate of the Northern Fort.


    After all, there is no better way to deliver a message than knocking on the front door.

 B2 Chapter 9

    My plan was going great.


    Awesome.


    Amazing really.


    Some might even say that it was perfection itself. By now, every beastkin in a hundred miles had to know about me.


    "Kill the spy!" Roared a beastkin within the crowd around me.


    "Let''s gut the bastard and watch him bleed out!" Yelled another.


    "I have a message for Chieftain Kanieta!" I shouted from inside my cage, trying to redirect the attention of these bloodthirsty bastards. "And I told you I was a messenger! I fucking walked up to your camp, and you accepted it!"


    "Death to the lying bastard!" Came a high pitch shriek from one of the short hairy men carrying my cage.


    "Let''s rip out the liar''s heart and eat it!" Shouted another from the other side of my cage I was facing.


    "I want to roll around in his entrails!" Screamed one off to the side.


    "Aye~!" Cried out everyone around me, a disturbing amount of delight filling their voices.


    "Let''s roast him over a fire and eat him!" Shouted one.


    At the words, the procession stopped. And all the short furry men and women around me looked at the one who had spoken. He was on the younger side if I was one to judge, and he quailed with the group''s full attention focused on him.


    "Get the fecker!" Shouted a high-pitched female.


    As one, the hundred or so furry men and women charged around my cage and leapt at the poor young man.


    Screams of pain and rage sounded, and more than one fight broke out at the edge of the pile between individuals, but eventually, the swinging arms, legs, and biting mouths stopped.


    The group started pouring back, returning to their previous positions, slapping each other on the back like they were reminiscing about a good time. As I watched, I only saw a few of their claws not dripping with blood. Finally, the one in the center of the mass was revealed.


    Hundreds of scratches covered the young man''s body, and his clothes were now nothing more than strings almost pulled apart by their own weight.


    "Throw the heathen into the cage!" Shrieked someone.


    "Ayee~!" Shouted the bloodthirsty crowd around me.


    Without hesitation, one of the short figures picked up the body and threw it at my cage. I watched in confusion as the body flew at the stone bars.


    Eyes widening in alarm, I tried to leap to the side as the bars of my cage started to rapidly melt away like pillars of sand, but I was too late. "Hunn~!" I grunted as the leg of the mini mountain hit me in the chest.


    There was this one time as a child when I tried leaping into a pond. My friends and I were progressively climbing higher into a tree, leaning over the water as we jumped off it.


    On my final attempt, my leg hit a thick, low-hanging branch, and the branch won by breaking my shin. Though I did go back later and chop off the branch after I was healed, so who is to say who actually won.


    Anyway, that small creature''s leg hitting me was like how I remembered connecting with that tree. An object that refused to be budged.


    Slamming into the stone walls of the cage, I bounced off them and flopped onto the ground. Only to grunt in pain again as the leg fell onto my chest, pushing out the small amount of air I had managed to suck into my lungs back out.


    I watched, my vision swimming, as two of the stocky beastkin walked up to the stone bars sticking out of one side of the cage. With no sign of effort, they lifted up the bars sticking out of the floor of the cage and started walking.


    I have been carried around by these creatures in this cage for hours. I could see the first hints of dawn¡¯s light, so I was guessing around three, but I didn''t know nor care. I was more focused on not being eaten.


    It was a cage that was made of compressed soil to the point there was little difference between it and granite. Or so I assumed from my sword doing nothing to the stone as I hacked at it.


    The cage was five by five feet on the floor and seven feet tall. All of which was made of compressed soil. The spacing between the bars was four of my fingers wide, and the bars themselves were as wide as my forearms.


    If the cage weighed less than a ton, I would be surprised. And four of those creatures were carrying it like it was nothing.


    I guess I should be happy that I didn''t get dog-piled like the poor bastard in the cage with me and be torn limb from limb, but that was a small comfort.


    They seemed so reasonable when I first approached them. They were marching up a road leading to the cradle heading toward the Northern Fort. And some of their numbers were beginning to turn toward me, probably picking up my scent.


    I didn''t really have a choice. Either I confronted one of the camps surrounding the fort with a fire, or I got caught trying to sneak up to the fort and killed out of hand.


    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    A rather small group that had no wolf or bird beastkin among their number and looked small and relatively harmless for beastkin seemed like a good idea at the time. The group was four and a half to five feet tall, with clawed broad hands and a tail that looked only slightly less wide than it was long.


    When they hesitantly gathered around me and didn''t attack me on sight while I explained that I was a messenger from the Triad, I thought I was in the clear.


    They asked the reasonable question of why I didn''t approach the gate directly, and I responded with the all-encompassing statement by saying, "politics."


    The furry creatures nodded, in understanding, then the largest one said, "Don''t worry, Laddie! We''ll get ya to her!"


    And then, the cage formed around me without giving me time to act, and they started marching with me, with them screaming about what they would do to me. Over the course of the march, the calls to eat, disembowel, and all-around defilement of my corpse increased until someone said something the others didn''t like and got piled onto.


    The whole situation had the feeling of a ritual to me. And I was in a fifty-fifty mental split on whether they let me live.


    "Let''s kill the fuckers!" Screeched someone.


    "I''m gonna slit their throats and watch them bleed to death!"


    "I''m gonna rip off their arms and beat them with it!"


    "I''m gonna¡­"


    Sixty-forty, I thought, trying to stay positive.


    Ignoring the crowned screaming threats, I pushed the leg that probably weighed as much as my body off of me with a few curses and grunts.


    Giving the young man ¡ª who looked about my age when you got past that hairy face ¡ª a once over, I saw his chest was moving and that his many wounds and bruises were closing before my eyes. Though there was still blood caked around the wounds, no more blood was leaking out as scabs had already formed. That''s impressive.


    I looked around at our procession and, not for the first time, wondered where we were going. At first, it appeared that we were traveling to the Triad, but instead of entering the gates, we skirted around the outside of the walls.


    When we made it around, it was already past daybreak, and I could see and smell the smoke rising from the Western Fort. Any sounds were drowned out by the increasingly loud furry bastards and the growing procession of beastkin we were marching with.


    Not to the forts, but away. I had to assume that the thousands of other beastkin were marching to the same place as us.


    Which was¡­ nowhere, as far as I could see. The only thing of note that we were fast approaching on the dirt road was the forest. And a couple of boulders I don''t remember ever seeing before.


    "Errg~." Groaned the young man next to me, his arms and legs shifting.


    Suddenly, he sat up and shouted, "I''m gonna rip the tail off the next person who threatens me and shove it up their ass!" Though the cage might not have solid walls, he yelled it so loud my ears rang for a moment after.


    Our portion of the road stopped, and all of the short creatures turned to look at the cage. A shiver of fear ran up my spine as the collective blood lust of a hundred bloodthirsty beastkin washed over me. Some of the eyes of those looking at me seemed to glow with an inner light.


    "My hairy balls a whelp like ya can do that!" shouted a gray-furred old-looking beastkin.


    "I''ll rip that tongue out of ya¡¯r mouth and use it to wipe my ass if ya say something so ridiculous again!" Screamed another beastkin at the same time.


    The two insults broke loose the damn of building rage. Stones that were more like caltrops started flying through the cage''s bars, impacting us and opening up gashes all over our bodies.


    "Oww! Mother fuckers!" I cried out in pain from the impacts, trying my best to dodge and block them, but they just kept coming. Even my leather armor was being torn up from the beating.


    But the beastkin in the cage with me just held his head high, ignoring the increasing number of cuts covering his body as he laughed madly.


    "Hahaha! This is nothing! Am I supposed to be feeling pain!? Why don''t ya start putting some effort into it, ya old bags! Or is that too much for ya¡¯r bones to handle?!" The provocation caused the stone caltrops to redouble.


    Falling to the floor, I curled in on myself, forming as much of a ball as I could as I covered my head with my arms. As soon as I hit the ground, there was a noticeable decrease in the number of projectiles hitting me. And those still hitting me no longer had the same force as before.


    I still had scrapes covering most of my head, my arms to either side of my bracers were close to ground meat, and it felt like I had multiple cramps on my sides that were not going away, but at least nothing more was being stacked on.


    The cackles and jeers of the beastkin in the cage with me continued minute after minute, his fur becoming matted down with blood. On the floor of the cage was a pooling of blood inching toward me.


    Not once in all the time did the insults or projectiles stop flying, and those outside of the bars only became more riled up as they called for our deaths.


    What was weird was that past the hundred short beastkin screaming their heads off, the other beastkin were giving us a wide berth. The few looks thrown at us were exasperation or a roll of the eyes as their faces radiated annoyance.


    They might have looked like they wanted to shout at us to move out of the way, but no one said a word. They walked off the road and through the tall grass, looking to the sides to avoid eye contact as they got close to the screaming fanatics.


    When the beastkin in the cage finally collapsed, no doubt from blood loss rather than lack of will, the other beastkins stopped, picked up the cage, and started walking, screaming about how they would smear our blood into the ground and make a painting for our families to look at.


    I lay on my back in the cage, listening to the soft snores of the man beside me as he kicked out with one leg as muttered in his sleep, "I waitin'' feckers¡­"


    What. The. Fuck. I thought to myself, my body throbbing in pain.


    The beastkins around me were as loud as ever, and I still had no idea what was happening.


    I saw we were passing the boulders next to the road, and from one moment to the next, I was passing through a stone tunnel.


    Sitting up on my elbows, I looked around in amazement, seeing a city stretching out before me. The beastkins carrying the cage might have been short, but it still placed me above most of the crowd in the square.


    Just within the square, I saw buildings made out of stone, wooden planks, and some that looked like they were grown out of the trees themselves. Towers hundreds of feet tall stabbed into the sky, dwarfing everything around them. Entire sections of the tower''s walls were missing, with platforms sticking out from their bottoms in evenly spaced intervals up its length. I could see the openings being used by bird beastkins to dive off of and land on.


    While some of the wood looked freshly cut, and the stone didn''t have the wear of time and usage, I would never have guessed this city didn''t exist a couple months ago.


    I remembered walking through this section of forest. All that should be here were trees and increasingly large rolling hills as you traveled deeper into the Northern Forest.


    Everything around me had the hustle and bustle of a well-established city, going through its daily life, even at such an early hour. And we had no idea it was here.


    On a visceral level, I finally understood. More than everything else I had experienced, this made me understand. We can''t make them an enemy.


    "Where are we going," I whispered to myself.


    "The Conclave." Grunted the beastkin in the cage with me. "I didn''t think my first time would be this fun!" He said, lifting his head and flashing me a fang-filled smile. "If only these squat-legged bastards could move without wiping their asses on the ground!¡±

 B2 Chapter 10

    "What are you here to report?" Kanieta snapped, not bothering to look at the messenger as she pretended to study a scroll. She honestly didn''t even know what it was about. She should, but doing Faction Leader work was tedious. It was best to leave such work to those under her.


    The only reason she had even touched the cursed object in acknowledgment of its existence was she needed some way to look busy while the Crescent Moon messenger waited.


    "Two legions are marching on our fort from the south, and there is movement on the bridge suggesting another." Crowed the pompous eagle. "The High Chieftain demands you send troops to hold the fort."


    "Ahh. You demand?" Asked Kanieta tasting the unpleasant words while she looked up from the scroll for the first time since the bird entered the chamber. It was a good thing too. She actually remembered that it was about a dispute between two clans over a plot of land in the new city.


    "And who is this¡­ high chieftain?" The eagle, like most birds but especially the eagles, was shirtless. She could see spell foci scattered over his body in the shapes of bracelets and necklaces.


    The largest necklace, a combination of multi-colored strings and beads leading to a quarts disk with a carving of the sun, was glowing. She could tell, at a glance, that the effect was purely aesthetic. There wasn''t even a feature to blind those that attacked him or something.


    From the ripples of the spell caused in the ambient mana, Kanieta could also tell that the spell was sucking up a lot of the bird''s mana. More than a spell that simple really should, but what could one expect from a faction that refused to take long-range spell casting seriously. Their spell forms for anything other than physical enhancement were trash.


    The bird might even be burning so much mana that it was more than his regeneration could handle. All while he is requesting our help to fight a battle. I wonder if he knows there is such a thing as humility. She thought, her mind filled with scorn. It is quite the effect, though, she admitted, if only to herself.


    The quarts disk of the neckless hung at his sternum, and the yellow light emphasized the contours of his muscles. Even his brown and gold winds spread out behind his back had a deeper richness to them, and the light danced over the feathers. As Kanieta studied the spell closer, she noticed something odd. That spell shouldn''t be using that much mana. Why¡­ Wait, is that?


    Lips twitching, she moved her eyes to the ground and saw spots of golden light shining against the ground. Every feather that had the slightest tinge of gold on the bird was projecting a ray of light. Like it was actually a gold feather or something.


    Resisting the urge to roll her eyes so hard they fell out of her head, she shifted to the side and looked at her cousin. Nareta was already turned around and appeared to be making some tea. But Kanieta could see her face twisted as she tried to suppress her laughter and the slight shaking in her hands.


    "The High Chieftain is Derg, Leader of the Crescent Moon Faction. Enemy to all who oppose our will¡­" Said the condescending bird, wiping away any humor she felt. And the way he trailed off bothered her. It was like he was going to say more.


    "Leader of a faction or not, he is still just a chieftain." She said, her voice growing cold. No one is superior among The People. We are all equal."


    "Caww." scoffed the bird, "Maybe for you lesser factions. But in our clans and faction, everyone knows their place." His winds puffed out, and his already straight back straightened more as his head tilted back. "The strong rule, the weak obey."


    "A chieftain only rules by the will of their clan. A faction leader only rules by the will of the chieftains. And a faction only exists by the lenience of the Conclave. This is how The People work, have always worked. Or am I wrong?" Kanieta, looking around the hall.


    Other chieftains of her faction were nodding along at her world, murmuring. She noted a few that were frowning as they looked at the bird.


    "You know nothing. Change is coming, and we will not bow to the Olimpians or Letairry, readying our necks to be collard." Snapped the bird in a huff, "It''s in your best interest to gather your forces and march them out to support us." The ominous warning in his tone and words sent a shiver of suspicion running down her spine as she narrowed her eyes.


    "Oh? Why? If you truly wanted to hold the fort, maybe Derg should have stationed more than two thousand warriors there. Or improved the defenses. He had over a month to reinforce it for the attack a child could say was coming. Maybe your mighty warriors can meet them in the field and win. It should be easier than fighting in a fort." She said while lounging back in her seat and looking at her nails.


    "Are you refusing to come to our aid?" The eagle asked, gritting his teeth.


    "What!" Kanieta said, feigning shock while holding her hand to her chest, "Is the Crescent moon so weak that they cannot hold back three legions while hiding behind their fortifications? Where are these mighty warbands I am constantly hearing about?"


    "This slight will be remembered." said the bird, his voice shaking with barely suppressed rage, "The High Chieftain will not be pleased."


    "I tremble in fear," Kanieta said flatly, flicking her wrist as if shooing a pest away.


    With a swirl of feathers and light, the messenger turned and walked from the hall. He passed between and under the carved pillars that looked like long fox tails and were connected with arches in the shape of foxes leaping toward each other, their noses just touching.


    Not a sound was made except the sound of the bird''s footfalls until he walked down the hall, and the doors leading to the dark night slammed shut behind him. Even then, seconds passed as the silence grew heavy.


    A small clink sounded in the deafening silence, and Kanieta looked over to see the cup of tea Nareta had placed on the small stand next to her chair.


    Grabbing the porcelain cup, Kanieta breathed in the smell of the leaves, enjoying the aroma before taking a sip.


    "So you were wrong," Lurta said from her spot behind Kanieta and to the left. "The legion did decide to attack."


    "I told you we should have pressed our advantage while we could," Croaked Elder Hartloe from his spot on the right, "Trusting the Olimpians to act logically is a fool''s errand."


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    "Our positions are secure and reinforced. The Olimpians will be in for quite the surprise, and we all agreed the gains would be worth the risks. And we all know it is better for us to defend than attack. If the Olimpians want to throw themselves against our walls in futile gestures of aggression, let them." Snapped Lurta, immediately coming to Kanieta''s support. Kanieta almost felt some gratitude towards Lurta, but she could easily imagine the heat of the glares passing between the two behind her. At least it''s only glaring this time.


    While Lurta would have happily harangued her for hours more, it would look like she agreed with Hartloe. And the mountains would be ground to pebbles before that happened. "They cannot possibly be hiding the numbers that would be needed to actually press us."


    As her words settled into the minds of those gathered, Kanieta spoke, "What legions are attacking?"


    "Why does that matter?" Rumbled Chieftain Marow, the bear-kin stepping into the center of the chamber from where he lounged against the wall.


    "Because it will tell us who is attacking and possibly why," Kanieta replied, setting her cup down and lacing her fingers together over her lap. "I haven''t heard of legions coming from the west or east¡­ Unless someone failed to tell me?" She looked around, checking to see if anyone appeared anxious, "So where did they come from? Who''s commanding them? From what we know, only the major cities in the north have a single legion, and most of those are civic legions. The provinces have a single legion scattered over their area, but stripping that would leave every village and town undefended in a time of fear. Pulling the personal legions from the high noble families would be like stripping a chief of his warriors in a time of war. And would most likely cause a rebellion."


    "So what are you saying?" Asked the bear chieftain.


    "I am saying that we cannot discard the thought of peace when we don''t know the perpetrator or intentions of the attack." Kanieta said while looking at everyone present, "For all we know, this is a single high noble looking for glory. How often has one of our factions or clans acted without the other''s knowledge? Too many to count. The stakes are too high for a single act to write off one entire possible branch of our future. Even if every single warrior and mage in the forts were slaughtered, I would still consider peace if I thought they were being sincere."


    She could see the chieftains nodding along with her words, even if some were not entirely enthusiastic. "But that does not mean we will be caught unprepared. Or enact a price upon them for their actions." This time everyone growled in agreement. "Marow, can I count on you to deal with our defenses while we hold the Conclave, but do not interfere with what happens to the wolves and birds."


    The Bear-kin slowly nodded and rumbled, "As you say. No Olimpian will get into the fort," before turning and lumbering his way out of the room.


    "I didn''t say that!" Kanieta called after him, "If you have to fall back, fall back. Just make sure they don''t break our lines."


    "I want to know why the Crescent Moon is so confident." Said Chieftain Brie after Marow waved a hand over his head in acknowledgment, "They have always been overconfident and condescending, but this is going a little far even for them. Why was he so sure of himself. And isn''t it strange they would ask us for help? Usually, we have to force them to be a part of any of their battles."


    "That was outside the norm," Lurta agreed pleasantly, the click click of her knitting needles sounding. "And I will have the Shades look into it while we hold this morning''s Conclave. Speaking of which, has everyone finally arrived?"


    "Everyone but the Blood Claw Faction," Nareta answered. "But they should arrive at daybreak."


    "Or they might not show up at all. Or they could show up halfway through our meeting and make a scene." Sighed Lurta in annoyed resignation, "I can''t believe they are our oldest faction most of the time."


    "Most of the time?" A chieftain in the crowd called out, "Why are they still a faction at all if they never do anything."


    "Because no one who has seen them fight is stupid enough to stand in their way." Snapped Lurta, "If you want to take their rights away, be my guest."


    The crowd stepped away, leaving a young chieftain standing in their center, whose face was now bloodless. His eyes were flicking around at those who were abandoning him as if he expected to see a childhood nightmare leap out at him.


    "Thought not," Snorted Lurta. "So don''t speak if you won''t back up your words."


    Bowing his head, the young man''s face flushed from the chastisement. "All factions should be represented?"


    "Yes," replied Nareta.


    "Then we have nothing else to say here. I will be taking my leave." Lurta said, "Kanieta, will you be so kind as to join me as I head to the Grand Hall."


    "As you wish, Elder," Kanieta said as she got up and started to move out of the hall.


    Before she left, Kanieta turned and said, "Any chieftain is welcome to join me in our section for the Conclave, of course. I hope to see you all there."


    Moving into the side passageway for the Faction leader and elders, she found Elder Lurta and Hartloe waiting for her a little way down the hall. Coming up next to them, they looked at them before moving into the door they were blocking.


    They entered the room they were blocking together and were greeted by the sight of a small reading room. Three plush armchairs were facing each other and arranged around a small table. The walls, while nearly bare at the moment, had shelves running from ceiling to floor, destined to be filled with the events that transpired in the Clan Hall. In the room''s corners were lamp stands with crystals on their tops enchanted to give off light.


    The light they gave off wasn''t strong enough to light up every nook of the room, but just enough to cast everything in the room in thick shadows. Because this room was designed to hold events that may never see the light of day.


    Lurta grabbed the jar of moonjuice in the center of the table and poured herself a half glass before downing the expensive alcohol. She then threw the glass at Hartloe.


    "Temper temper, Lurta," Hartloe said, hand snaping out, catching the glass, and moving to pour himself some. "I haven''t seen you made enough to simply lash out since someone put that stink boom spell in your bed."


    "Ha! That was quite the joke. And the trigger being three rapid bumps was clever."


    "Four," Hartloe said offhandedly as he smelled the spirits, "And there had to be a certain amount of weight on the bed."


    "I knew it!" Lurta shouted triumphantly as she burst to her feet and pointed at the old man in righteous rage as his eyes went wide in alarm. "All these years, you have denied it. But I knew it was you''re doing, you old coot!"


    "Waa?!" Spluttered Hartloe as he coughed up his drink before his back straitened, "Your damn right it was me, you vindictive harpy! All you had to do was not sleep with someone for three days, and it wouldn''t go off, but no~! That was too much for you! You literally couldn''t make it twelve hours!"


    "How dare you!" Seethed Lurta, "And to think I let you¡ª


    "Ahem," coughed Kanieta. "I think we have other things to do rather than bring up old, and best forgotten, history."


    The two old husks stared death at each other before they both turned to face her in a huff.


    "So," Asked Hartloe after he took a sip of the Moonjuice, "Why are you mad."


    "The investigators have nothing," Lurta said.


    "Nothing other than the Fact Jolten made the formation for the Soul Harvest Spell." Added Nareta.


    "Are you sure there is more to this?" Hartloe asked, not even questioning how they knew. The Shades'' abilities were an open secret.


    "They were too practiced," Kanieta answered. "Everything went smoothly like they had done it so many times in the past that it was an old habit. You can''t fake that."


    "So this Conclave is a trap." Intuited Hartloe.


    "Probably."


    "And now the chickens and dogs have more ammunition with us refusing to help their defense. A fact that is suspicious in itself. You got a plan?"


    "Other than keeping my eyes open and on the balls of my feet? Nope."


    "Ahh, I see," Hartloe said, sipping the alcoholic liquid that glowed a soft silver in his glass, and they all quieted down to think their own thoughts.


    After they sipped a few more glasses and most of the night was over, they got up to leave. "I guess we should get going." Said Kanieta. "We don''t want to be late."


    "Don''t worry, Kanieta," Nareta said as the group moved to the door, "I grabbed your Chieftain Staff from where you left it."


    "Great," Kanieta said, not meaning a syllable as the door opened, revealing the stupid stick.

 B2 Chapter 11

    The din of thousands of people filled the Great Hall. No one was out to make noise intentionally, but chairs scraped over the stone floor, people''s clothing rustled as they moved, and there was a constant low murmuring of voices.


    Within the now empty and shattered fortresses the People had fled, there were larger buildings than this one. And Kanieta had no doubt that there would be larger ones built again, but for the builders to have completed this structure while throwing up all the other buildings and walls that made up the new city of Forests Edge was quite the statement. It spoke volumes about how hard everyone was working and the power the People wielded.


    Large structures are more often than naught built to intimidate those who approach them and offer a level of grandeur to those who own them. A status symbol everyone could look at as it looms over a city.


    The Great Hall was not an exception to this rule. But rather than elevating an individual or a faction, it was for the Conclave as a whole and the People they represented. Every Kin could look upon it and feel pride.


    The building was made up of hundreds of trees grown together. Magic was woven into every inch of their forms, shaping and reinforcing the trees far beyond what should be possible. A simple oak''s trunk had been expanded to a dozen feet wide and stretched hundreds of feet tall, forming an outer wall. The branches of the trees wove together, continuing upward instead of branching out and making a section of the dome overhead. Other trees were twisted and shaped to form the rooms, walkways, arches, and stairwells that filled the structure''s interior.


    If one was to stand in the center platform that was in the exact center of the building ¡ª and the center of the large chamber Kanieta and the other chieftains were in ¡ª and look up, one would see the branches twist as they wove around each other. The middle of the branches was empty in a circle showing the sky, and it made one feel they were in the center of a storm of swirling wood.


    Every wall had carvings of heroic figures fighting and casting magic against the People''s enemies. Above, one could see what looked like the canopy of a vibrant forest. Though the trees had died in their abnormal growth, the builders had mutated vines into unnatural colors, making a living and ever-shifting tapestry.


    Within the Great Hall''s ground floor, every faction had a section, and every clan leader had a seat in their section. Up above in the crossing and twisting branches were spots for anyone who wanted to come and watch the Conclave as they met. Massive though the seating overhead was, it was already long packed with observers even at this early hour, forcing the guards to turn people away. It was a stark difference compared to the spots on the ground, which were only two-thirds of the way full.


    There was still almost another hour before they officially started, but Kanieta suspected that those missing would show up at the last second.


    To her left, around the circle, were the Twin Horns, Spotted Prancers, Dark Haven, Blue Sky, and White Paw Factions. They composed the non-marshal factions of the People, though that only meant that they didn''t actively seek out battle. In many ways, should those factions be pushed into conflict, they would be more dangerous than her own.


    On her right were the Shimmer Scale, Crescent Moon, Cats, and Blood Claw Factions. The Shimmer Scale''s section was filled, but the other three weren''t.


    The Crescent Moon was probably trying to make a statement that they didn''t have to listen to the will of the Conclave, or they were annoyed about the recent investigations. Whatever their reasons, dawn was fast approaching, and they had yet to arrive. But she knew their representatives were in the city, and the meeting was about them, so they had to show up eventually. It was just a matter of when.


    As for the Cats, well, they were probably waiting to make an entrance and be the center of attention that they would never deign to actually acknowledge but would require all the same. Which, at the very least, needed the Crescent Moon to be here, which they currently were not. And the Cats had probably taken it personally and were waiting until the wolves arrived to make a statement about¡­ something. Understanding the motivations of Cats was a lesson in futility.


    At least Kanieta remembered the Cats'' recent bloody lesson about messing with the Blood Claw Faction, so she didn''t think that would be a problem, but who could really say.


    And the Blood Claw faction should arrive sometime today, hopefully before noon, so long as nothing grabbed their attention. But as far as Kanieta knew, they might suddenly decide to join the escalating battle at the Triad or start a barbeque. Each option was equally possible.


    Besides the odd empty spot among the rest of the factions, everyone else was patiently waiting or taking the time to talk business. Not that anything of import was being said, as the events of the Conclave would determine many decisions.


    Placing her elbow on her armrest and cupping her cheek in her hand, she watched the brightening sky. It was better than watching the people mill about.


    Minutes slipped by, and she lost track of time. Then the doors leading into the chamber were thrown open, and Derg marched in, his lackey¡ª chieftains spread out behind him. As far as she could tell, the ground consisted almost entirely of males, who were doing their best to pretend to be bear-kins with the amount of muscle they had packed on.


    Kanieta didn''t recognize any of the chieftains, but she knew a brawler when she saw one. Especially the ones that thought more with their fists than that shriveled thing between their ears.


    Eyes narrowing in suspicion, she looked at Derg, who met her eyes and, in the loosest sense, pulled his lips back in a smile. She felt a shiver run down her spine at the startling sight, causing her to blink and pull her head back in confusion.


    Refocusing on Derg, she saw his usual tooth-filled and predatory smile that always sends a shiver of disgust down his spine, flashing at her. For a moment, she could have sworn his smile stretched up to his ears.


    Turning to Lurta, she saw the old woman looking to the side. Following her gaze, she noticed she was looking at the cat faction, which was now rearranged and filled with people.


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    Instead of one chair being pushed forward ahead of the rest of the section, like everyone else, three chairs were pushed forward now. Two males and a female were taking up the spots, the female with a black tail, the larger male with a tan tail and brown tuft at its end, and the last with an orange and black tail.


    Rolling her eyes, Kanieta remembered the Lion, Panther, and Tiger Clans were the current top three clans among the Cat faction. And they apparently haven''t decided on who their leader would be¡­ Kanieta thought with a mental groan.


    "I saw you arrive!" Shouted Lurta, "Don''t think for a second that you got away with anything!"


    The tails of the three leaders and all those behind them paused for a single instant. Then the tails continued to slowly lash at the air once more like nothing happened. None of them were so much as looking in Lurta''s direction.


    "Humph!" Lurta snorted in amusement and triumph as she turned to Kanieta, "You have to call them out every once and a while. Otherwise, they will think they can get away with their antics."


    Kanieta only suppressed a giggle as her lips quirked in amusement.


    The Crescent Moon faction settled down, joining the rest of the factions, and Kanieta looked up. The gray light of dawn was streaking across the sky, and as she looked up, the first light of the morning touched upon the interwoven branches.


    As the light of morning crept onto the hole''s edge, a gong sounded, reverberating throughout the room.


    All at once, the quiet conversations around her stopped, and the rustling of clothing and murmurs overhead vanished. Part of it was that the chieftains and elders standing moved to sit down and put on their professional masks, but most of it was the overhead spell preventing sound transmission activating.


    While those above could still hear the words spoken by whoever the current speaker was, history had long proven that there was little those spectating could provide of substance.


    A wizened old man appeared and started walking to the center platform of the Conclave. His face was covered in wrinkles, and his rabbit ears hung limply over his head, tuffs of shaggy hair sticking out at odd angles. A clack of his wooden staff marked every other slow and short step.


    The staff looked like a trio of inch-wide branches woven around each other. In the center of the staff was a line of crystal throbbing with blue light. Poking out of the top, contained in a latticework of roots, was a four-inch tip of the crystal.


    The clack-clack of the staff filled the air, and with every step the elder took closer to the center, the rest of the room grew darker.


    When he reached the center of the central platform, he stopped and slowly turned to look at those surrounding him.


    Though Kanieta was covered by the darkness, the silver glow filling his eyes made her sure he could see them all.


    "We are here to hold a Conclave of the People. The Faction leaders will represent their clans in this meeting, and they have all agreed to abide by and enforce any the decisions this Conclave will come to, as it will represent the collective will of the People." The old man''s voice wavered, and there was the weakness of time pressing down on him, but everyone could hear the power and willpower underlying his words. "Speak now should you object or be bound to this agreement." He waited for a few beats of the heart, and no one said a word.


    "In this Conclave, we have the White Paw Faction, represented by Chieftain Karlonu of the Golden Fields Clan." A ray of like broke off from the light filling the central platform, showing a rabbit-kin woman in a loose green and brown dress with a white shawl over her shoulders, standing up and pressing her right hand over left and bowing to the elder before sitting again. "The Blue Sky Faction is represented by Joro, Chieftain of the Treetop Clan." A small bird-kin man with bright blue wings and a black two-piece suit bowed at the waist, his fingers glittering with gold rings and gems. "The Dark Haven Faction represented by Varro of the Crevice Clan." A rat-kin male stood, his form covered in a heavy leather apron, which had more than a few singed spots covering it. The rat did little more than dip his head before sitting down and returning to drawing on a pad in his lap.


    After that, Kanieta spaced out. Everyone knew who the representatives were, and this was all part of the tedious ceremonies. Ceremonies were important, but it didn''t mean she had to pay attention.


    Jovum, the deer bitch from the Spotted Prancers, was introduced, and then Troak from the Twin Horns. After him, she was introduced, and then Hossze, the male snake from the Shimmer Scales.


    Derg stood and made a show of looking around and waving before the cats were up. Before it started, Kanieta lowered her head and rubbed her temple.


    "Lastly, we have the C¡ª


    "Hrumph" One of the cats cleared their throats.


    With a sigh filling his voice, the elder spoke, ¡°¡­We have the To Be Determined ¡ª for 497 years and counting because an agreement has yet to be reached because they haven''t gathered enough chieftains in one spot to hold a vote¡­ ¡ªFaction."


    "That was uncalled for." Drawlled the female leader.


    "Yet accurate." Snapped the elder, his long-contained annoyance showing through his professional mask. "We have chieftains, Hawro, Moutou, and Goplo."


    The three cats stood and bowed as one before sitting, none acknowledging the others as they moved, pretending they were the only ones there.


    "And the final faction had decided to¡ª


    The chamber doors flow open so hard that the sound of splintering wood all throughout the room.


    "We have arrived!" Boomed a new voice.


    "I''m gonna grab him by the chest and the pelvis and rip him in half over my head!" Shouted one of the bloodthirsty bags of stinking fur coming through the doorway.


    "Come and try it!" Challenged another, "I bet you would dislodge your shoulder with the effort!"


    "You think a child like you has the right to challenge me?!" Responded the voice which called out the threat, "Get the bastard."


    Kanieta felt a wave of earth magic as the crowd in the doorway ripped apart the ground. The chunks of earth were formed into jagged balls of stone and propelled toward a cage she could just make out in the hallway.


    No one said a word about the commotion that was going on.


    Everyone knew that, at best, it would be ignored. And if someone got too close, they would be sucked into the commotion, either by being physically pulled into the crowd or turned on as the new target for their projectiles.


    After many more threats and screams of pain, the group finally started moving into the chamber, and the rabbit elder started talking.


    "And representing the Blood Claw Faction, Barlot, of the Yellow Fur Clan." The old beastkin stood as tall as he could, which was about four and a half feet tall, the thick fur covering his body long gone white from age was now stained with blots of red blood.


    "We have caught a prisoner!" shouted the elder in joy as the cage came forward, showing a human and a blood-stained rug.


    "Fecking Badgers," Grunted Lurta in exasperation.

 B2 Chapter 12

    Kanieta''s sparkling eyes slid over the group that had barged into the Conclave with no decorum at all. It was to be expected of badger-kin, as nothing they have ever done could be considered subtle, but this was another level. A smile touched her lips as she felt a flash of excitement. She had never experienced a Conclave this awsom¡ª


    "As was the tradition of old," the old badger-kin proclaimed in a grand voice, "we have brought a prisoner to tell us the events transpiring in Olimpia."


    "I''m a messenger!" Called out a voice that Kanieta recognized. "I came to deliver a message to Chieftain Kanieta!"


    Kanieta didn''t see a human as she expected when looking past the intermingled blood and dirt covering the huddled figure in the cage. She saw an elf trying to look past the light shining in his eyes.


    The fact that he wasn''t locking eyes with her told her he couldn''t see clearly into the darkness surrounding the platform. Kanieta studied his face and saw no fear in his eyes, only a deep well of resolve.


    Resolve and a healthy dose of caution as his eyes continually flicked to the badgers around him, most of whom seemed to be studying him while licking their blood-covered lips. Or the blood dripping down their claws. Or staining their fur.


    It would say more about him if he wasn''t cautious while trapped in the center of such creatures. There was a very good reason badgers were generally left alone.


    "Just kill the filth defiling these¡­ hallowed chambers and get on with this farce." Called Derg radiating contempt with every word. "Or, let me."


    Glancing over at his words, Kanieta saw him flick his wrist, and a blur left his fingers streaking toward Green.


    Reaching for her mana, Kanieta''s mind fumbled for a spell that could save Green''s life. She hadn''t expected to need to cast anything, so she wasn''t holding a spell ready, and all of her defensive foci were meant for personal defense.


    But even as she pushed her mana into the world, forming a spell frame that would project a shadow wall, she knew she would be too late.


    Shadows were not known for their defense, but if she angled it right, she should be able to deflect the projectile.


    Part of her mana snapped into the necessary runes while the rest flowed along the path that the power circuits would make to feed the spell her mana. In a fraction of a second, the simple spell took shape before her outthrust hand.


    Anyone who was using their mage sight could see it. The Shadow, Project, and Shield runes were connected in geometric lines and circles proven to best contain and guide the mana flow.


    Kanieta could have put the same rune multiple times, strengthening that aspect of the spell. An example would be adding more Shadow runes to pull more shadows from the surrounding area making her shield thicker and denser. Putting more Project runes would make it travel faster, and more Shield runes would affect the quality of the shield and how it looked.


    Though the runes used didn''t matter nearly as much as the will and perception of the caster, as a spell could be stretched to encompass far more than most would think, the only limit being how long a caster could hold on before the spell breaks. Or, more likely, it sucks up so much mana that casting the spell would be pointless or, in rare cases, lead to death as the mage''s life force is sucked out to fuel the spell.


    Kanieta''s spell only used one of each of the runes. While more would make it stronger, it would also make the casting time longer. "Shadow shield." She hissed out, focusing her mind on casting the spell faster while dumping her mana into the spell.


    Shadows collected around her hand, causing the area around her body to look almost lighter in comparison. Then a foot-wide sheet of shadows boiled across the room.


    Not even a second had passed since Derg had thrown whatever he had, and she had started casting her spell. Simple as it was, the casting might be one of the fastest she had ever done.


    But Kanieta knew that she was already too late. Derg was already placed closer, and she had to spend a moment casting her spell. She still had to try, though.


    She put every drop of mana within her core into the spell, causing her head to throb and an empty feeling to appear inside of her. Ignoring the feeling, Kanieta''s eyes were focused along her spell and ended at Green.


    Throwing her will behind the spell, she forced it to move faster. The mana efficiency of the spell was atrocious as she pushed it to act beyond what most would think possible, but she kept going. That was the most positive aspect of simplistic spells. If you dumped enough mana into them, almost anything was possible.


    An instant later, her condensed shadows streaked past Green, causing him to flinch back.


    A moment later, her spell slammed into the wall, causing a crack in the wood, and that was all. There was no other impact on her shield, as she didn''t feel a sudden demand for mana or struggle to hold the integrity of her spell.


    It felt like her stomach dropped out of her chest and to the floor at the realization of what it meant. With her dumping her whole core into the casting, her magic dissipated after another couple of seconds.


    Moving her eyes away from her dissipating spell, she expected to see blood pouring from Green''s mouth as he slumped to the floor of his cage, but he only looked around in surprise.


    "That was exciting," said the gray-furred badger, his bord voice saying it was anything but. "One faction tries to silence my prisoner, and another tries to protect him. I wonder if you two are on different sides of a disagreement? Ahh, but it doesn''t really matter. Here."


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    Kanieta was staring at the old badger, who was rolling a ball with spikes around it between his finger. Then his arm was outstretched, and a loud crack sounded.


    "Argh!" Screamed someone in pain a moment after a meaty thunk sounded.


    Head snapping to the side, she saw Derg''s left hand clutching his right peck. His snarl of pain filled the chamber as he slowly reached over his shoulder before his arm jerked with another grunt of pain. Slowly, Derg brought his hand to his front, and the blood-smeared ball he had just thrown was between his fingers.


    "I thought you would want it back." Barlot said, his voice neutral, like nothing of note had happened, "Hmm, I guess I might have thrown it a little too hard for you, though." The badger brought his claw up to his chin to take it, "I guess that''s my bad. I have just been hearing so much about how strong you are. Anyway, sorry."


    Dergs face twisted with outrage as he dropped the spiked ball to the ground and ground out his clenched jaw, "Apology accepted."


    "Sure, sure," the elder badger-kin said, waving his hand as if trying to clear the air, "It was all my fault, we all must realize our own strength, and in my twilight years, I forgot how strong I really am."


    "Here, here!" shouted the badgers behind the elder, waving their arms in the air or flexing arms showing off their muscles.


    Dergs''s face flushed red at the not-so-subtle insult, and he clutched the armrest of his chair so hard that the wood splintered. The snickering laughter running around the room wouldn''t help his anger.


    Every chieftain present knew how proud Derg was of his physical strength and talent for enhancing that strength with magic. The elder badger-kin, long past his time, had overwhelmed him with contemptuous ease.


    He was a badger, so it would mean less than if someone else had done it, but within a matter of hours, everyone would know.


    Quickly glancing over, Kanieta saw that Derg''s face had shifted into an empty mask devoid of all emotions. But his eyes shone with a cold light as he looked at all of the other chieftains and Faction Leaders.


    "As I was saying before, all of the excitement," The elder badger started speaking again, turning to face the Master of Ceremonies for the Conclave. "According to ancient tradition, any clan that has a captive and brings them before a Conclave has the right for their captive to speak should they have relevant information. With the sudden aggression of the Olimpians and his sudden appearance, in which we may have come across him without the need of running him down," which old badger almost sounded disappointed at that part, "while claiming to know one of our esteemed faction leaders, I believe he might be able to shed some light on the situation."


    A moment of silence passed before someone spoke up, "I musst admit, I haven''t heard of ssuch a ssection in the charter of the Conclave, but I haven''t gone looking." Hissed the Shimmer Scale Faction leader. "What do you ssay, Massster of Ccerimoniess?"


    The old rabbit-kin closed his eyes briefly, then opened them and nodded. "While it hasn''t been invoked in centuries, there are records of such a tradition existing. Though they have not been transferred to the modern rules for the Conclave. As such, it will be up to a vote to decide if we will proceed with the witness."


    "Ahh, a vote," said the old badger stepping in as the rabbit sucked in a new breath, "who will challenge me on this?" The way the old badger''s voice dipped to an eager growl when he said challenge made it clear he would take any opposition as a personal slight and call for violence.


    With Derg''s wound fresh in everyone''s mind, no one wanted to cross the homicidal badger over something so simple. No one who wasn''t already nursing a grudge, at least.


    As such, the vote to interrogate the elf scout was passed eight to one.


    It wasn''t long before Green''s cage, and the passed-out badger inside with him were carried to the center pedestal placed there, the badgers moving back to stand at the edges of the light. They were facing Green and his companion as if their blood-stained and haggard bodies were an actual threat.


    "Give us your message, Olimpian," said the Master of Ceremonies, "Explain to the Conclave and our clans why you are here while your people are launching an attack against us."


    Green stood and straightened his stained clothing as he looked around. His eyes looked into the surrounding darkness, lingering on certain spots as he must have picked out the occasional shadowy figure. "My Commander," Green said, his voice clear and calm in contradiction to his appearance, "the Legatus of the 15th Legion and Guardian of the Northern Line, believes that the People are sincere in your efforts for peace, and he has taken your warnings seriously. But events have transpired to take the decision out of his hands. A portion of the Senate has decided that we need to take back the forts of the Triad, so they will be taken back. However, I have been informed that once we have retaken the forts, my Commander will be able to prevent any further aggression on our part."


    Green stopped talking and stood at attention, waiting for those of the Conclave to take in his words.


    After a few seconds, the leader of the Blue Sky faction stood, and a ray of like broke off the center pillar, revealing him. "Do you have anything that will provide proof of such claims?"


    Green''s face twisted in disgruntlement, then shrugged. "Besides my presence here, I can offer nothing more to prove my Commander''s sincerity."


    "Excuse me if I cause any offense, but as far as I know, an elf''s life means very little to your people. From what I have been told, it would mean less to them than it would mean to us." The bluebird said this as a fact because it was.


    But there was still an unasked question at the end that Green decided to answer with no hint of anger in his words. "That is true. But the legion does not throw away a good tool for no reason, and there are few scouts my equal. But more to the point, I have the¡­ best relationship of someone between your people and mine. There might be little trust, but I believe there is a certain level of respect between me and Chieftain Kanieta. Throwing that away on an errand that I will more likely die before completing would be wasteful. At least so long as you believe the action has no sincerity. And what would the gain be?"


    "To confuse our warbands. To put some doubt in our minds while your people strike hard to overwhelm us." The Faction Leader answered, then he threw a questioning look at Kanieta, joining the others looking at her as he said, "Though I am not a war leader." Kanieta inclined her head, acknowledging the elf''s claim.


    Green shrugged as if he was indifferent. "Perhaps, but I doubt anything I say will affect your battle plans already in motion. And from what I can tell of this city, you don''t even need the fort anymore. And I have no doubt there are many more hidden defenses surrounding the fort. I am only here to ensure the chance of peace between our peoples doesn''t fully die."


    The merchant prince of the Blue Sky Faction only nodded his head slightly and sat down.


    A few more of the Chieftains had questions, but everything that needed to be said already had been.


    Finally, Kanieta stood up and Spoke, "Since he has come to see me, I will take him into custody until it is decid¡ª


    "Suck on my hairy balls, ya bitch!" Shouted the badger that just awoke inside the cage.


    "Get the fecker!" Screamed one of the badgers standing around the cage.


    "Nock out his brains and beat some respect into them!" Shouted another.


    As one, the badgers started casting magic, forming jagged rocks and propelling them at the foul-mouthed young badger-kin in the cage.

 B2 Chapter 13

    After the spiked balls of death stopped clattering to the ground around me, I looked up.


    Flinching from what I saw, I moved my right hand back and planted it on an earthen spiked ball. The pain didn''t register for an instant, then I groaned, "Ahh~!" as I hesitantly lifted my hand.


    The open mouth of one of the beastkin inches from my face on the other side of the bars ¡ª now contorting with amusement ¡ª wasn''t as important anymore. I was used to these creatures baring their fangs or opening their tooth-filled maws at me by now. It was only because I wasn''t expecting it that I flinched at all.


    A moan and some mumbled words to my side made me look over in surprise. The beastkin in the cage with me was still awake.


    Since he was first thrown in here with me, he could hardly be awake for more than a few seconds without opening his mouth for an insult and then getting the shit thrown out of him. I mean, they never touch him other than with those spiked balls, so there is no better way to explain it, right?


    Even in my years in the legion, I had never seen this kind of beastkin. I have also never seen a beastkin quite so resilient. I would be surprised if there was a section of his skin where you could move your finger more than an inch before hitting a wound.


    And still, after all the wounds and repeated healing, I couldn''t see any difference in the rate of his recovery.


    "A challenge has been made!" Roared a gray-furred beastkin, "The Conclave has bore witness. Will you, Chieftain Franklin, stand by your words!"


    "Oooh!" chorused all those around me before their heads snapped to the old beastkin, then slowly turned to face me. Their hands dropped to their sides at the same time as the stones hovering around them fell.


    One section of the crowd moved to the sides, and I could see Kanieta standing with her back straight in a pool of light, one hand holding a staff, the other hanging at her side. "I do not believe¡ª


    "I apologize for my insult Faction Leader!" Said the beastkin in the cage with me, cutting Kanieta off. He was now on his hands and knees and bowing his head towards Kanieta. "Those words were not meant for you but those of my kin. I beg you for your forgiveness!"


    Frowning, I looked at the beastkin. I didn''t know this Chieftain Franklin well or long, but if there was anything I knew about him, it was his yelling. And what he just exclaimed sounded wrong. It was stilted.


    Looking at Kanieta, I saw, her brows furrowed and a look of uncertainty on her face, which was new to me. The only expression I had ever seen on her face was self-assured confidence bordering on arrogance. But if anything could wipe the smug superiority off her face, it would be the crazy bastards around me now.


    I kind of felt sorry for the politicians of the Conclave for having to deal with such an unstable group. Then I remembered what they were, and the feeling passed.


    "I see¡­" Kanieta said hesitantly as if feeling out her words and trying to judge how they would affect the short beastkin. "I see no reason that¡ª


    "How could we allow such a debt to remain? It would forever be a strain against our honor!" Cried the old gray beastkin, his voice filled with remorse. "We will never allow such heinous words to be said against someone of such stature."


    ¡­The fucK? It was all I could think before my mind went blank from the sheer absurdity of the words coming out of his mouth. That statement was coming from the beastkin, and I knew this for a fact because I had heard him shouting this all the way back in the hallway leading to this chamber, who said, ''I''m gonna rip ya''r dick off and shove it so far down ya throat I''m fecking ya shite-hole with it!¡¯¡­ And I was reasonably confident that it was shouted at someone watching them down the hall with a look of horrified interest on their face.


    Is there really more that can be said about a people when their elders are shouting such profanities and appear capable and willing to follow through?


    The end of the night and morning I had spent with these beastkins had elevated my expectations of insults. By comparison, what the young man next to me said was relatively tame. And admittedly, kind of disappointing from a creative standpoint.


    "As he has stained your honor!" shouted the old beastkin in the collective incredulous silence his words left in the room ¡ª apparently, no one else was buying his karashit either ¡ª "I believe he should serve you, as a guardian until he has erased his debt, and regained his honor. Do you accept this debt of honor?"


    I looked at Kanieta, whose look of bewilderment quickly vanished and was replaced by a blank mask. His eyes narrowed, and I saw her eyes flicking between the old beastkin and the young one in the cage.


    After a few seconds in which no one said a word, she slowly opened her mouth and said, "Ahh, if his service to me is the only way to regain his honor, then who am I to stand in his way?"


    "Great!" Said the old beastkin while clapping his hands together, "And as a part of his service, Franklin will watch over the Olimpian while he is under your hospitality. An independent observer, if you will."


    Kanieta looked at the old beastkin, then dipped her head. "I would find such a situation agreeable."


    "It is done!"Shouted the old beastkin waving his left arm. "Open the cage, and let the two move to their patron."


    "Aye!" Shouted the gathered beastkin in agreement as they turned and started moving in one direction, not paying us any more attention.


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    Aren''t they supposed¡ª Oh. I thought, looking around and finally taking in what was happening around me.


    The furry short beastkin had torn up the stone floor as they formed their spike balls. Now, those same spiked balls were melting into the ground. It was like watching the floor ripple like a puddle of water as rain pelted its surface, slowly raising the water level to cover the pebbles sticking out, making it uniform.


    The cage around me was no different, but instead of melting into the ground, it flowed along the ground until it reached the feet of a hand full of beastkins. Then the compressed earth flowed up the legs and settled onto their shoulders and chests like armor.


    I had no doubt that the compressed earth was as hard, if not more so, than steel, but it would also weigh far more. Not that it bothered these beastkins'' as their steps didn''t hesitate or falter in the slightest to my eyes.


    The only concession they made to the extra weight they were carrying was reinforcing the legs of their chairs with more earth as they sat down with a wave of their hand. Which only added to the intimidating figures of the beastkin. They were the smallest beastkins I had ever seen but were also some of the strongest. I was positive I wouldn''t last more than a few seconds before I was killed if I fought them.


    Silently watching the earth flow away like I was standing at the top of a fill watching a river flow down it, seconds passed. Soon, I found myself sitting on the ground next to the bloody beastkin.


    "Hey, buddy," said a rough voice trying to be quiet. Head flopping over to face the voice, I saw my ex-cage companion looking at me, his eyes not the clearest. "We have to move, and I lost too much blood, can''t feel my legs, haha¡­ Sooo, can ya help me get up?"


    The blood covering the beastkin, and his showing of teeth that could be considered a friendly smile once you filled in the gap between his parted lips, gave me the instinct to pull back. But ¡ª as I kept reminding myself ¡ª I was here to make a good impression, and a quick glance a moment later told me that we were on our own.


    There were still two of the small furry beastkins in the pool of light around us, but they were quickly walking out, and the only other person was the old beastkin with the glowing staff and eyes. Thanks to the rabbit ears hanging over his forehead, it was easy to tell that he was a rabbit beastkin, which you rarely see. The old rabbit was looking to the side, completely ignoring us, like we didn''t even exist.


    It didn''t seem like we would get any help from there.


    "Only if I can use you as a wall to get up first," I said, trying to sound joking, but even I could hear the strain in my voice from the pain wracking my body.


    "Of course." Said the beastkin trying to scoot over but only managing to move a couple of inches. Shit, he really must be hurting.


    Getting to my knees, I shuffled over to him instead. Putting my good hand on his shoulder before pressing down while scraping and jerking my feet into place.


    My knees weren''t their strongest, but as my hand clamped down on the shoulder of the beastkin, his rock-solid body that was as unmoving as a mountain gave me the time to get my balance.


    After I got my feet under me, I ignored the pain in my hand and clasped wrists with the beastkin, and was promptly pulled to the floor as he moved to get up. I wasn''t even sure I lifted him enough to get his butt off his heels.


    Should have expected it. The bulging muscles on his arms and chest felt like stone and, in turn, would have the same weight as them.


    "Sorry," I muttered, getting back to my feet, "I didn''t expect you to be so heavy."


    "No one does," He replied with a grin.


    This time, I planted both of my feet in a wide stance while grabbing hold of his forearms, which were twice as large as my own, then threw my body backward as I pulled.


    My body shook with strain, and it felt like I had tied a rope around the trunk of a tree and started pulling on it for fun. Because the beastkin was still firmly planted with his heels on his ass, not going anywhere. Pulling on more of my strength, I threw my body backward.


    Watching his body shift was like watching sap rolling down a tree. But the small success drove me to keep going.


    The beastkin''s face twitched slightly as he started to move. And I saw many of his scabbed-over wounds stretching and start weeping blood. It had to be dozens of lacerations and punctures breaking open, but the only sign of pain was the slightest twitch of his lips. That''s kind of scary.


    With a grunt of effort from the beastkin, he swung his knee off the ground and planted his foot. Continuing my pull, I shuffled backward, increasing his forward momentum.


    As more of an instinct than a calculated action, I spun around and stepped into the beastkin while I hunched down, helping the beastkin to stay standing once his second foot came up.


    Due to the height difference, the beastkin''s wrist was barely on the far side of my neck, but I could hardly crouch down lower while continuing to walk forward. Moving in a crab-walk, one arm keeping the beastkin''s arm over my neck and the other around his back, trying to help keep him standing, I moved to where I remembered Kanieta popping up in the darkness.


    We must have made quite the sight as we shuffled along, continuing forward thanks to our forward momentum as much as our effort. When we came to the edge of the stone platform, we nearly fell as we stepped down.


    As soon as we stepped from the circle of light into the darkness, the shapes I could hardly make out before began to gain features.


    It turned out the shape I thought was Kanieta was actually not, but with a quick adjustment, we made it to the chairs positioned right behind her.


    No one moved to help or hinder us as we approached, and few did more than glance at us, but I felt confident we were expected to take a seat in those spots.


    The fact every other seat was taken was also a pretty good hint.


    I positioned the beastkin in front of a chair, then dropped him into it. He didn''t so much as let out a groan, but the wooden chair creaked plenty from the abuse. Moving to my own spot, I settled down with a sigh.


    The moment my butt hit the seat, the old rabbit beastkin in the center of the room started speaking, "Now that all the excitement and interruptions are over, let us move on with this Conclave. As all factions are represented, we will start with a recounting of the Dance of the Ancestors."


    He stopped speaking, and several beep drums started being pounded, reverberating in my chest, but Kanieta turned around, looking me in the eyes. "Can''t say I expected to see you again, but it sure is interesting every time I do."


    "Yeah," I grunted, my face twisted with pain from all the wounds and not having the energy to add fuel to the spark of anger that flared up inside of me as she spoke. "That''s one way to put it."


    Her face twisted with something close to sympathy, "I''d offer to treat your wounds, but you''re a big boy, so tradition demands you''ll have to wait until after the meeting is over. But at least we''ll get to see how this Conclave is a trap together!"


    She clapped at the end like it was something to be excited about, but no noise was made. My eyes widened as a spike of dread shot through me. Ahh, fuck my life.

 B2 Chapter 14

    Kanieta eyed Joro, the Faction Leader of the Blue Sky. She had hardly looked at him for more than a second before his eyes slid from the Master of Ceremonies to lock with her own. He might have given the smallest of dips to his head, but she could be mistaken as the movement was so slight it could have just as easily been the shadows playing tricks. There was no mistaking the knowing tilting of his lips and the wink he sent at her.


    Giving a slight but noticeable nod of her head in reply, Kanieta acknowledged the help he provided. Few would have taken it well if she had stood up and questioned Scout Green.


    They would have looked upon the scene as if it had all been arranged. Honestly, it would have been quite the compliment to her abilities to think she could pull that off, but the effect of the testimony would not have been as great. If no one had stepped forward for another second longer, Kanieta would have done exactly that, but the impact wouldn''t be the same.


    The Blue Sky Faction was largely looked upon as a neutral faction. As such, getting them to go to any side of an argument was a monumental task that only heroes of legends could take on and have any real hope of accomplishing.


    That was, so long as you didn''t have their weakness spilling out of your hands. What better way there to entice a merchant faction than to offer them gold?


    There is truth in the statement that merchants make a killing in war, which was great for them because this generation will be judged on whether they can win the greatest war in the People''s history, but there were only so many Kin. Only so many items that could be used.


    And with their shrinking nation being hemmed in by an existential threat on one side and a country that viewed ¡ª or will view them soon ¡ª as the apex of an enemy they had fought for untold generations, the war was currently looking bleak. So long as they had to fight on both sides.


    One force would kill every single Kin they saw, and the other appeared to be waffling between war and peace as political factions jockeyed for position.


    If a merchant faction had the chance to tip the balance, it only made since they would choose the side which would open up trade with an entire nation.


    The act was entirely self-serving on the side of the Blue Sky, but that didn''t negate that it also helped the Red Tail Faction. Green''s presence proved that there was a definite faction within the Olimpians that was willing to accept peace with the People.


    Right now, blood was running hot, with them taking over two-thirds of the Triad, but there were no insurmountable differences yet. But peace was looking like a real option if they played their cards right.


    And now the entire Conclave knew it.


    Smugly turning to look at Derg, like everything was going according to her plan, her smile froze, and she felt a cold hand grip her heart.


    The shadows in the chamber were thick, but to her eyes, they were only a slight hindrance.


    Derg sat back in his chair, his face set into a placid mask. There was no anger. His jaw wasn''t clenched, causing the vein on the side of his head to pop out as he suppressed his urge for violence. Derg looked relaxed, as Green''s existence undermined his entire faction''s position of conquering Olimpia.


    If there was one thing Derg was known for, it was his dogged pursuit of a goal. Not his calm and collected appearance when things weren''t going his way.


    Something was wrong.


    Kanieta couldn''t help herself. She took a quick glance around the room as if someone were hiding in the corner of the circular room, preparing to jump out at her and attack.


    "What''s wrong?" Lurta asked.


    "Derg isn''t concerned," Kanieta answered, her eyes still searching the shadows.


    There was a moment where Lurta said nothing, then she spoke, "Ahh, I see. This could be a problem."


    "Do you think that he would try something here?" Hartloe asked, sounding concerned


    "He would be pitting himself against the entire Conclave if he did," Kanieta answered, but there was a hint of uncertainty in her voice.


    "There have been others," Lurta murmured. "Nothing has changed, though. The plan remains the same, keep our open and look for an opening."


    The drums stopped, and the dancers, who were wearing masks and covered in pain, froze in place. Some were positioned to look like they were fighting looming monsters, while others looked like they were fleeing. They were acting out the story of how the People''s ancestors first escaped from the Letairry and fled into the Broken Peaks.


    The performance was meant to remind all of them of who they were and where they had come from. What the consequences would be if they ever stopped fighting.


    After a few more seconds, one last beat of the drum sounded, and all the dancers stood straight before bowing as one. They then began filing off the platform.


    When the center platform was empty, the Master of Ceremonies stepped into the light again. "We are here to ascertain the validity of the accusations made in an emergency session of the Conclave held over a month ago. According to Faction Leader Kanieta, an Elder of the Crescent Moon Faction has cast the forbidden spell Soul Harvest. More than that, Captured Olimpians witnessed the spell and escaped to tell their own people. The White Paw clan was chosen to send out investigators to confirm the truth of the claims. If the investigators would be so kind as to come forward and speak to what they have found." The old rabbit-kin gestured to the White Paw section, and a ray of light broke off the center column showing their faction leader.


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    Karlonu''s smile was motherly as she sat with her back straight, her hands clasped over each other on her lap, "It would be our pleasure." She gestured to the center of the room with a wave of her fingers as she spoke.


    At the motion, a man and woman rabbit-kin stepped into the light around her and continued forward. When they stepped onto the center platform, they bowed to the Master of Ceremonies before turning to face the darkness. Then the woman started speaking, "Because of the concerns of Faction Leader Kanieta, we were sent to investigate the site where the supposed forbidden spell was cast. To help us verify the truth, we were granted access to records detailing how the spell is cast and the aftereffect it causes on the ambient mana. From a physical inspection and sensing the echos of magic, it is our determination that the spell Soul Harvest was indeed cast."


    The young rabbit-kin woman stopped at this point as a surge of murmurs erupted from the gathered chieftains. She waited until the explosion of talking died down before speaking again. "Because the spell was not finished, and the ambient mana was disrupted from battle with the Olimpians, some portions of the spell''s echoes were distorted. But we were able to pick out the spell signature of Elder Jolten, which we could determine thanks to a sample provided by the Conclave." There was more talking, but the woman never stopped cutting them off, "However, we were unable to question the elder, as he, along with his disciples, were already dead and scattered around the spell sight."


    At this point, the male stepped forward, "We had already gathered reports of the Olimpians moving down the river, so we set about determining to what extent Elder Jolten had broken our laws. In our search through the Crescent Moon clans, we were unable to find any other use of the forbidden spell. There were no soul stones. There were no diagrams or hidden books containing the details of casting the spell. So far as we were able to determine, no one else was even aware that Elder Jolten was in the process of casting the spell with his people. While there could undoubtedly be proof back in our old homes, we cannot search such locations. As such, we are forced to conclude that Elder Jolten acted of his own accord." The male stepped back, and both of the two stood together as the Master of Ceremonies stepped up to say something.


    "What is that¡­" Looking behind her, she saw Green. Even with the darkness of the chamber, she was able to tell that he was pale. And he was slightly swaying back and forth in his seat as if he was so drunk he couldn''t stand properly.


    If she couldn''t already guess, a sniff of the nose told her everything. The smell of blood had grown stronger. It wasn''t to the point that more blood was outside of his body than in, but multiple punctures and lacerations were leaking blood and had been for a while.


    We might have to change our stance on keeping everyone who has entered the chamber from leaving. At least so long as Olimpians have a chance of becoming a common fixture. They aren''t as robust as us. Pulling her mind from idle thoughts, Kanieta asked, "What are you talking about?"


    "I smell¡­ blood," he said.


    "Humph!" Snorted Lurta, "Well, I would hold so. Otherwise, you would be making only us smell it." Green rolled his eyes ¡ª which was more of a roll of the head ¡ª at the comment murmuring something even her hearing couldn''t make out before he went back to staring off into space.


    Turning back to the stage, her eyes immediately narrowed in anticipation of annoyance. "I do not mean to question your authority on the subject." Preened the Deer Bitch in her soft and lilting voice as she questioned their authority on the subject. Horrible time to start paying attention, grumbled Kanieta mentally, "But are you certain that it was the Soul Harvest Spell? I mean, how can any of us be confident? That spell has been forbidden for so long that no one can really say what its spell structure looks like. From what I have heard, some of the documents about how to cast it are outright contradictory. The only one who was there ¡ª which has yet to be verified ¡ª and can testify to what the spell looked like was Chieftain Ka¡ª oops, I mean Faction Leader Kanieta. But if she was really there, then how could she leave one of the People to be ruthlessly slaughtered by the Olimpians?"


    Kanieta''s hand clenched and shook slightly as her rage flared. Because he was casting the Forbidden Spell, and I recognized it! Why would I help someone breaking our laws!?


    The idiotic Deer made her face into a mask of mourning and disappointment while she shook it slightly, "I know I would never leave an Elder ¡ª those who looked over us while we were young and guide us with their wisdom now ¡ª to die while I fled, saving my own life. But if someone did flee a battle, you can always tell from their singed tail. I would never suggest that Kanieta was such a person, either. I think it is far more possible that Kanieta was never there, nor did she see the actual spell the honored Elder Joltan was casting, and only assumed it was forbidden from a brief glance? Maybe she fled and had read the same description of the forbidden spell that the investigators had read, a document that has already been established to be suspect, with no definitive example remaining."


    Fucking bitch! Kanieta shifted in her seat, resisting the urge to check on her tail. It was mostly normal by now, but the tip wasn¡¯t quite as thick as the rest. Either I left an elder to die, or I am an idiot who can''t recognize a spell?! And how is your statement of not seeing the real spell definitive proof that no documented copy exists! Kanieta internally fumed when a soft but insistent humph drew her eyes to the side. Lurta placidly looked into Kanietas eyes, weathering the fury they contained like it was nothing more than a summer''s breeze.


    After a few seconds, she was able to contain her mounting irritation at the blatant lies and misrepresentation of the facts. Everyone knew that the Deer looked at Derg with eyes as big as the moon filled with longing every time she saw him. Lurta''s eyes slowly slid to the side, following the look, a vindictive smile spread over Kanieta''s face.


    A tranquil calm overcame Kanieta, and she held her hands loosely in her lap. Her time would come soon.


    "Are you saying you believe the Soul Harvest Spell wasn''t cast?" Asked the Master of Ceremonies.


    "I am saying that we cannot be sure what the spell actually does until we cast it. And with the cost of casting the spell being so high, casting such a spell can never be considered. The investigators said themselves a battle had taken place, so whatever remnants that might have remained by the time they got there would have been distorted. A spell was cast, but any decision that we come to must be mitigated by the fact that we cannot be confident that Forbidden Magic was even used." The Spotted Prancers leader''s voice sounded like she was pleading with them to be reasonable. Like they were in the wrong for trying to judge someone who had broken their law.


    The old rabbit was silent for a moment, with his eyes closed. When they opened, their inner light had dimmed like someone had just poured a bucket of water on a fire. "The Faction Leaders point is valid. There is no proof that anyone else was involved or knew of the events before they transpired. And without us casting the Forbidden Spell and no evidence to the contrary, there will remain a reasonable doubt to the validity of the Investigators'' claims. As such, we¡ª


    "Excuse me," Kanieta called out while standing up.


    The Master of Ceremonies did not seem to mind her cutting him off, but the Deer''s head snapped to the side, a pout of annoyance already marring her delicate features.


    "You have something to say, Faction Leader Kanieta?"


    "I do," Kanieta replied, her head turning and giving Jovum a radiant smile that only made her pout into an ugly scowl. "As luck would have it, we have the victim of the Soul Harvest spell with us today." She turned and waved to Green behind her. "Any competent healer can feel the scarring on his soul. Scarring that could only be made by the Forbidden Spell."


    Explain that Bitch, Kanieta thought, not even looking at the Deer.

 B2 Chapter 15

    I was not entirely sure what was going on.


    Part of the problem was the world around me was slightly spinning and blurry, which was never a good sign. I shouldn''t die from blood loss, but passing out was looking more and more likely.


    Another part of the problem was the deafening ringing in my ears, so hearing what those around me were saying was getting hard. Again, just had to take a second and feel my numb body, and I knew the cause. Both facts I was finding increasingly hard to care about.


    Maybe I did care deep down, but I was finding it hard to dredge up the emotion to do something about it.


    On the bright side, I was having less trouble standing now than when I could actually be considered healthy.


    Whatever the situation was, I followed Kanieta, who led me up onto the stage again. If she wanted to hurt me, I wasn''t in a position to argue, so being amicable seemed like my best option.


    After some words and questions, most of which were asked by an angry wolfman and a delicate-looking woman, who I couldn''t quite tell what her animal was, constantly throwing looks at the wolf. The whole time they talked, we stood in the center of the light, waiting to get this over with. Even I could tell from their postures that whatever this was would end in Kanieta''s favor.


    Off to our side, the old rabbit ¡ª actually, is he a hare? What''s the difference? Probably doesn''t matter. ¡ª was looking into the darkness like none of this mattered, patiently waiting.


    Without warning, the old beastkin turned, and a young male that was at least a head taller than me and a few times wider stepped out of the shadows. His face was square and blocky, with a strong jaw and black hair. What really caught my attention was the two horns that should be on a bull sticking out of his head.


    They were long enough that should he tilt his head down and charge me, the horns would slam through my chest and out the other side. Not that he would have to go to such lengths. Every plodding step he took shook the ground, and his hands looked big enough to grab my head and squeeze it tight enough to pop.


    The monster of a beastkin walked to the center of the pedestal, then bowed low to the old maybe-rabbit beastkin before turning to Kanieta and bowing again, but with a noticeable difference in depth.


    "You called for a healer?" Rumbled the big beastkin.


    "Thank you for coming, Healer Strat. Normally we would leave any wounds sustained in the Conclave until after, as tradition demands, but we have found ourselves in an interesting situation." The old beastkin rasped. "Faction Leader Kanieta claims that this Olimpian was the target of the forbidden Soul Harvest Spell. We need you to use your magic and look into his body to find evidence of whether his soul was attempted to be ripped out or not."


    The large beastkin flinched back at the words, and a look of genuine remorse came over his face. He looked at me, and he bowed his head before raising it, a look of compassion overflowing from his eyes.


    Slowly he raised his hand and rumbled, "If you will take my hand, I swear on my mana I will heal all your pains."


    I didn''t even need to try. I could feel Healer Strat''s emotions radiating from his body.


    It was like being next to Bark again. There was no deceit or convoluted machinations taking place behind his eyes. He was not healing me because it would gain him something. Anything that he acquired would be incidental.


    No, he was offering his hand. Offering to heal me for one reason and one reason alone. He was a Healer.


    Seeing others in pain, harmed by the ravages of our world, hurt him. If I was a mindless animal lashing out at all who approached, he would still be offering me his hand to help me.


    My hand moved on its own without my conscious thought. Because I knew, deep down, that this beastkin''s intimidating appearance meant nothing. He would never hurt me.


    The large hand, tough and calloused from years of hard labor, closed around my own with gentle firmness. I could feel the controlled strength of the Healer''s body. At any moment, he could squeeze with all his strength, smashing my hand to mush.


    It was a fact the beastkin radiated knowledge of with every action.


    Every single one of his movements, from the shifting of his shoulders to the shuffling of his feet, was slow and controlled. As if squeezing my hand faster than a crawl would cause me to shatter like a delicate vase.


    The Healer''s other hand settled on top of mine, sandwiching my hand between his.


    He gave me a broad smile, and I noticed a faint scar across his mouth from the center to the left side of his jaw. But more than that, he was the first beastkin I had seen that didn''t have at least canines or outright fangs filling their mouth.


    Sucking in a long and deep breath that I could swear ruffled my hair, he slowly let it out. At the same time that he breathed out, I felt a smooth and cool energy enter my body through my hand.


    The energy traveling up my arm was like a warm breeze washing over me on a chilly day. And in its wake, I felt relief.


    It was more than my wounds healing. I could see those closing on my arm as the energy passed through my body, and it caused the sharp pain wracking my body to vanish, but the energy flooding from the Healer was doing far more.


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    When I first woke up in the Medico Ward, an invasive bone-deep pain suffused me. No part of my body didn''t hurt like my bones were slowly being smashed.


    The healers treated me, and the pain lessened, but now I knew it never really vanished. I had just been ignoring it by using a small portion of my mental energy to suppress the pain.


    It wasn''t like I had enveloped my mind with mental energy and suppressed what I felt. No, this pain wasn''t so simple.


    With every step I took, it was like I had to push back a thousand needles covering my body by pressing into them. Or like a kite was attached to every hair, and every time I moved, I dragged it behind me.


    But the pain was inside, something deeper. Something that was never meant to feel pain, so there were no internal limits. No protection other than my mental energy that was acting as a buffer. Not that it could completely stop the feelings, because even as the mental energy stopped the flood of pain, droplets got through.


    Now that I was aware of what I was doing, the casting shielding my mind shuddered and began to brake apart. As the first tendrils of agony touched my mind, shock and fear overwhelmed me, preventing me from reforming the shielding with my willpower.


    It was a pain I had only ever felt once and never wanted to feel again.


    I was helpless. Only able to resist, and in doing so, make the result better. I could feel my soul being reshaped. Refined. On some level, I knew what they were doing. But even as the pain filled my mind, scattering all thought, it was lessening.


    From my elbow down, the pain was no longer there. I felt normal. No, better than normal.


    It was a shelter from the storm ravaging me, and I huddled around the flickering flame of respite. It might have been small, but it was something I could focus on.


    A warmth like I was slowly sliding into a hot spring began spreading over me. It wasn''t fast, but it was constant.


    I got lost in the sensation that was steadily creeping up to my shoulder. Then the energy spread into my chest and across and down my other left arm before the warmth turned and started traveling down my torso.


    Time became meaningless to me as I basked in the growing absence of pain. There were some prickles of discomfort, like the pain one feels after finally releasing the urine filling their over-stuffed bladder, but I knew it was passing. That I had finally found release, and any discomfort I felt was insignificant next to the bloated misery that was constant before.


    Once all but my head was healed, for healed was what this had to be, the energy started moving up my neck.


    The heat turned to pressure, and as the soothing energy encroached closer to my head, the more it felt like something was going to burst forth from my mind. Or just explode out my ears.


    "Relax," Rumbled a deep voice. "Release your defenses. Let your energy go."


    But I''m not¡­ I thought in confusion, oh.


    Even as I was healed, the mental energy in my mind was stiffening. It was like a muscle clenching. In some deep part of myself, I just couldn''t believe I would be free from the pain. That it was all going to come crashing back, sweeping my mind along with its corrosive currents, never to return.


    Slowly, I relaxed the energy, and the warm healing continued like a wave lapping at a wall of sand.


    Eventually, the soothing warmth worked its way around the edges of my mind before squeezing inward.


    It was a continuous fight with myself. Every second, I struggled not to surge outward with my mental energy, pushing back the foreign power. I knew I could.


    I had far more power. And my mental energy felt denser, like a bone that had been broken so many times that it was far more than it was ever supposed to be.


    But I also knew that if I resisted, I would only cause myself more harm. And that if I wasn''t fully healed, everything that was fixed would more likely than not be undone with time, like a knitted blanket that would unravel if not tied off.


    So I suppressed my instincts.


    Though it felt like my head was slowly being buried under trickling sand, I pulled my energy into my core.


    Occasionally, a part of my energy would lash out, pushing the invasive power back, but I would quickly rain it back in. And any lost ground from that part of the healing energy was quickly made up.


    The whole time, the rumbling voice tried to be soothing. Encouraging. And it somewhat achieved its objective, as the deep reverberations lulled my mind into a kind of meditation.


    Eventually, the healing energy pressed against my core for a moment, and I felt a jolt run through me, then the healing energy vanished.


    Opening my eyes, I saw that I was sitting before the large beastkin, who had a couple new people behind each of his shoulders, our hands still clasped together.


    Then it felt like a rush of blood surged through my body, and everything tingled.


    Back arching and leg kicking out, I fell off the stool I was on and started convulsing on the ground. My mental energy exploded out of my core and surged around my body.


    Even as I lost control of the energy, it felt far smoother than before as it traveled. Like I had always been sliding around on dirt, and now I was finally on the ice. And it was having far more effect on my body, causing my muscles to clench and my arms and legs to kick out.


    Reaching out with my mind, I gathered my will to grab hold of the mental energy. I expected nothing to happen. For it to be like all the times I tried to do it over the last month. I expected to have my mental hands fumble around as if they had an inch of wool around them, unable to accomplish any fine manipulation.


    But the moment I thought of my energy stopping ¡ª I couldn''t even say I was reaching out with my will as it really was more of a thought ¡ª the storm in my body froze, and my convulsing stopped.


    My heart beat loudly in my ears for a moment, then the world started coming back to me.


    ¡°¡­conclusion, Healer Strat?"


    There was nothing for a moment, then I felt a sigh brush against my face, and the two mountains pressing against my shoulders lifted. "If that wasn''t the result of a failed Soul Harvest Spell, then I shudder to imagine what it would look like. While his body was covered in small lacerations and punctures, there was relatively little internal physical damage. But it''s a miracle he still has a mind. With every movement he took, the ambient mana would push against his soul and try to rip it from his body. It would be like a cloak being blown about in a strong wind. There were some signs of healing, but it was only minimal. If he was left untreated for much longer, his soul would have been ripped from his body, left to wander the world, leaving a mindless husk behind."


    No one said a word. Until Kanieta spoke up, a tinge of guilt to her words, "So, are we in agreement Elder Jolten cast Soul Harvest on this man? Or will you only believe the Healer if you cast the spell yourself to witness the aftereffects firsthand?"


    "No Faction Leader Kanieta," rasped the old rabbit, "This is more than enough."

 B2 Chapter 16

    I was now sitting back in the chair next to Chieftain Franklin, ignoring the snoring coming from him. The sounds were mildly distracting from my meditation.


    The glances I threw at him over the course of the Conclave told me that as little as half an hour ago, he was at least trying to stay awake.


    Chieftain Franklin was more asleep than awake, but at least he was trying. It was more than I could say for the others.


    The pattern was always the same. His head slowly and steadily sinks lower until he snaps it back up in a moment of wakefulness. Then there are two blinks of his eyes, which are unfocused and dull before his eyes slide shut, and his head starts sinking again.


    Either he was trying to keep track of my actions like his Faction Leader ordered, or he was self-conscious about falling asleep alone. Pretty sure it was the latter. Because he hadn''t bothered to spend the second it would take to turn his head and check if I was still here in a while.


    If he was with the rest of his people, which I found out were badger-kins from the muttered curses all around me, Chieftain Franklin would be snoring right along with the rest of his kin.


    Watching the badgers sleep was something that everyone should hear once in their life. Sadly, you don''t have to get that close to them to listen to it, either.


    As the gathering badger-kin nodded off into sleep one by one, the chamber was filled with a constant cacophony of snorts, gasping, and wheezing. Then they began to synchronize.


    They were a nightmare of interruptions made flesh. Eventually, someone got fed up enough to cast a spell that sectioned off their area, bringing silence back to the chamber.


    Not that I cared. The shouting match¡ª I mean the discussion taking place between the Faction Leaders ¡ª mainly Derg and Kanieta ¡ª with a few others chiming in to offer their opinion, was all about the concessions that would be forced on the Crescent Moon Faction.


    The whole situation came down to how I am irrefutable proof that the forbidden spell was used by Elder Jolten. Or my ¡ª I shuddered at the thought ¡ª soul being nearly disconnected from my body was irrefutable evidence.


    Not that Derg would accept the opinion of a single healer. He needed half a dozen other healers to be called in to test me before he accepted the truth.


    Because of my appearance and its implications, Kanieta vehemently argued they should be more active in pursuing peace with the Olimpians. And to prove the Peoples'' sincerity, the Crescent Moon Faction needed to be sanctioned.


    Proposals like limiting the number of Enlightenment Ceremonies they could hold ¡ª whatever those are ¡ª were being thrown around. And that if they cannot force their own elders to follow the Conclave''s laws, then permanent watchers should be placed within their ranks.


    To me, no one looked like they were all that opposed to the suggestions. The delicate-looking female that caused Kanieta''s tails to bristle ¡ª well, all but the tip of one ¡ª every time she spoke was saying that the Conclave should be more moderate, but few were listening to her at this point.


    Kanieta had even broached the topic, and I could tell by the silence and how quiet Derg got that it was serious, that removing the Crescent Moon''s status as a faction shouldn''t be off the table. After all, they needed to set a precedent of how severe the consequences of casting a forbidden spell will be.


    At that point, Derg settled back in his chair and looked around at those murmuring in agreement. Which was the majority of the room.


    I was hesitantly trying to use my mental powers by passively feeling the room''s mood, but I could tell most of the others were genuinely intent on making an example of Derg and his faction.


    I had no idea what the end result would be, but I got the definite feeling it wouldn''t be good for Derg and his people. A fact everyone in that section knew, as the anger and hatred coming from them was clawing its way across the room to me.


    With the general consensus come to, Derg was left to sit in his chair while the other faction leaders debated what the consequences would be.


    Even from behind, I could tell by Kanieta''s posture and the flicking of her tails that she was sitting there with a smug, self-satisfied smile. She had won, and she knew it.


    Everyone in the room did.


    But that was a couple hours ago. Since then, they had been discussing the minutia of how they would fuck over the Crescent Moon Faction.


    I had closed my eyes and started meditating, and the badgers began falling asleep on mass. They found everything more uninteresting than me, and I was reluctantly learning how an entirely new political system worked.


    An actual diplomat would probably find it fascinating, but that wasn''t my job. I delivered my message, so now all I had to do was wait for a chance to slip back to the legion without anyone getting suspicious.


    While they continued to prattle away, I focused my mind inward.


    The first thing I did was perform a simple technique to practice manipulating my mental energy. The technique consisted of taking my mental energy, then evenly spreading it out through my body before gathering it again as fast as possible. The exercise was for children as they first developed their Control.


    It was far easier to control one''s energy while it was within their body, and there was hardly any loss when control was lost. When it did inevitably happen, about eighty percent of the energy would return to the core without guidance, given enough time.


    Grabbing hold of the mental energy in my core, I pushed. What the¡ª Stop! I frantically thought. What in the Ancestor was that?


    The moment I pushed on my mental energy, it went skittering right through my body, which I expected, then it continued right out of my skin, which was a complete surprise. It wasn''t all of my energy. I still had a fourth of my mental energy, but I wasn''t entirely sure whether my body contained the energy or I just stopped it before it could leave. The fact my mental energy could so freely leave my body was kind of a big deal.


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    That was strange enough, but my core was now refilling with energy several times faster than before. And I wasn''t referring to what my regeneration rate was most of my life. I now have several times the super regeneration rate I gained after the incident¡­ So, that''s great?


    Now that I think about it, when I was healed, I just assumed that my mental energy was bouncing around my body. An assumption I made based on my experiences and the records of every other practitioner that had ever lived.


    Excuse me for coming to that conclusion just because my core was filled when I checked minutes later. How dare I not pay attention when I was busy accepting existing without constant pain filling the back of my thoughts anymore.


    Whatever the completely reasonable reasons that caused me to miss that fact, I was now half convinced I was imagining it all. The only thing I knew of to help push one''s mental energy out of their body was to have more mental energy. It created more pressure.


    After a few quick tests, I discovered some things.


    Even my new regeneration didn''t explain everything that happened to me. My core wasn''t instantly filled. It still took a minute or two to fill up. If it was all leaving my body, how did I have so much in my body?


    The other thing was if I wasn''t actively restraining my mental energy outside of my core, it would leak out of my body. Like there was no difference between my body and the air.


    Being more careful, I eased my mental energy out of my core. Once I had it nestled in my chest, I began pulsing the energy through my body.


    The first couple of times I pulsed my energy, the result was faster and far smoother than I expected, and the outer edge of my pulse leaked out of my skin. I don''t know why I was surprised. I had flailed around enough to know my energy moves around my body far better now than before.


    It was just when it actually happened I wasn''t ready.


    For a moment, I was irritated that I had lost mental energy. Every drop is precious. Then a smile spread over my face at the thought. But it''s not. Not anymore.


    Even as I practiced with the mental energy, more was filling my core, and I had already regained more power than I had lost.


    It did not take long for my skill to show in my practice. Despite how it may seem, I wasn''t relearning how to control my mental energy.


    What I was doing was comparable to graduating from a poorly made and rusted sword and shield to a perfectly balanced masterwork sword and shield. And new equipment didn''t matter to a master of their craft.


    I was a master at Control. There was no denying that. And my lifetime of training didn''t forsake me.


    Now that I ¡ª for lack of a better example ¡ª can feel my mental hands again, I was quickly reasserting my skill over my improved body.


    It wasn''t long before my internal pulsing was as easy as it used to be. Then I started making tendrils and moving them around my body, an essential skill to practice.


    For everyone but me.


    Holding a tendril outside the body was hard and draining. It can be done for hours and even days. But it will be sucking up either your willpower or mental energy the whole time.


    My eyes were still shut, but I could feel a smile spread over my face. Before, I had to hoard my mental energy like the village drunk guarding his last cup of wine.


    Now it was like I was standing in the middle of a river and wanted a drink. All I had to do was bend down.


    It would take time, but I had to shift my perception. My willpower had suddenly become a whole lot more valuable than mental energy.


    After a bit more practice, I formed more tendrils and poked them outside my body. This is¡­ too easy. I thought in bewilderment.


    Experience has long taught me that holding a tendril out in the world is like sticking your arm straight out and keeping it in the air. Easy at first, but it quickly devolves into a mental struggle of perseverance.


    Now it was like keeping my arms out while floating in the water. Keeping my tendrils inside my body was almost harder than moving them outside.


    Pushing the two tendrils farther out, I kept up a steady flow of mental energy. The tendrils quickly moved past three feet and then five feet from my body. Five feet became ten and then fifteen.


    The reserve from my core and the mental energy I was playing with had been used up, and I was now growing the tendrils at the same pace as my core was being recharged. And still, I was having almost no trouble at all.


    When I reached what had to be around twenty feet, and it was still no more of a struggle than poking the tendril through my skin, I let the casting go.


    I had already passed my previous limit of extending a single tendril, ¡ª seventeen feet four and one-eighth inches ¡ª and I did that with two tendrils simultaneously. Finding out my new limit ¡ª I had to have one even if it might take a while to find ¡ª would have to wait for another time.


    It was time. I had beaten around the bush so much that I was digging up roots. I even walked around it and went down the trail a little way in an effort to avoid facing the stupid thing.


    After my internal practices, I should have gathered my will and mental energy to cast a pulse. It was the next step. Besides collecting mental energy and releasing it all at the same time with the intent to retrieve information, there was little more one had to do.


    Anyone could ride out the information shoved into their mind. Or they should be able to do so.


    The last time I released a pulse, I nearly passed out. And the flood of information into my mind hurt so much that it had to have added to the brain damage I suffered.


    Logically, I was able to put two and two together. My soul was damaged and nearly ripped from my body. There would be consequences. It was why whenever I controlled my mental energy lately, it felt like I was doing it with thick gloves on. And the changes in my body that I was now noting had to have resulted from the damage and subsequent healing done to me.


    Now that my soul had been healed, it meant that releasing a pulse would be fine. Yeah, nothing to worry about! It''ll work out great! No matter how many times I mentally cheered for myself, I couldn''t believe it.


    It was like I had walked around a specific corner one time, and as I turned, a rock smashed me in the balls. It might have been a complete fluke, and it probably won''t ever happen again, but it would take some time before I ever walked around a corner ¡ª specifically that one ¡ª the same.


    Gathering all my willpower, I forced the smallest of pulses out of my body. It should have been barely enough to show my chair and a few feet around me.


    The pulse went twice as far as I expected, which caused my body to tense up in expected pain, but there was nothing. The strange ability to sense what was inside the pulse remained, but it was hovering at the edges of my mind. Waiting for me to reach out for it, not forcing its way into my mind like before.


    With the small success that proved I was being ridiculous, I decided to release a normal pulse. The worst that could happen was me falling onto the ground and needing the healer''s help again.


    The pulse rolled out of my body, quickly enveloping the room before hitting the walls and stopping cold. But the pulse surprised me as it started rolling up the walls. Higher and higher it went until my energy started rolling over the people ove¡ª wait¡­


    My face scrunched up as I focused on the information that caught my attention. It was¡­ By the Guardi¡ª


    Doubling over, I emptied my stomach onto the ground.


    My mind roiled with the sensations of warm and coagulating blood covering my body. The heady scent of copper filled my nose as if I stood in a field of dead, their blood soaking the ground.


    I could feel people turning their attention to me. Chieftain Franklin had jerked awake and was facing me, reaching out with a hand. But I ignored them as I sucked in a breath, a moment of clarity coming to my disordered mind.


    "AMBUSH!" I shouted at the top of my lungs. At the same time, I swept out with a tendril knocking the chairs and those sitting on them away from me, creating an open space.


    Leaping forward, I used another tendril to pull myself forward and into Kanieta.

 B2 Chapter 17

    Sitting back in her chair, Kanieta passively watched Derg stand up before moving to speak on the center platform. She would not interfere with his little speech.


    After all, she was a mature and charitable woman. Giving a dying man one last chance in the spotlight was only fitting.


    Derg wasn''t physically dying, though he might have wanted to, but his political power had been cut in half. And all the signs looked like it would only decrease from here on out.


    The neutral factions were no longer looking so neutral, and the concessions they decided to place on the Crescent Moon Faction will cripple their growth.


    Kanieta would make sure of it.


    They will be thrown onto the front lines of the fighting, and their numbers and power will dwindle further.


    Peace may never come, and the People may end up fighting futilely to the very end, but it won''t be because they were blinded by their own power and pride while refusing to seek help. If the Red Tail Faction had to guide the Conclave to the peace table by the nose, so be it.


    With everything going her way, why would she try and stand between Derg giving one last speech?


    Not that she would be picking apart his words, trying to find what he was leaving unsaid. Listening with half an ear would be a good way of describing her attention toward Derg. Most of Kanieta''s focus would be on picking out the twitches under his skin and jaw as he failed to suppress his anger.


    "I came to this conclave expecting this," Derg stated, his voice surprisingly calm. "Though I hoped I would be wrong. I told myself and my Elders that such thoughts were beneath us. Why would the Conclave turn against my Faction? We have always protected those standing behind us. We have always sought out what was best for the People. Did my warriors not break the Letairry Corps as they pressed the Broken Walls as we charged down the Trembling Mountain? Did I not lead the counter charge winning the Battle of The Red Pass and Claiming the head of the Marshal of the 3rd Corp? Are not my people ¡ª even now as you scheme to undermine us ¡ª holding back the hoards of the Lost and their controllers within the valleys and slopes of the Broken Peaks?"


    His voice had turned accusing, and there was a not-so-subtle edge behind his words. "I, and my father before me, have led the Crescent Moon Faction to be the spear and shield of the People. We have spilled rivers of blood, our own and our enemies alike, and all we asked for was your support. We have proven time and again that we can see the way forward and are willing and able to carve a path for the People to follow." He stopped speaking, letting his words hang in the air as he slowly turned in place, looking into the darkness around him.


    "And this is how you thank me! Thank us! If Jolten was breaking the law of the Conclave, a spell that is said to have the potential to make a mediocre mage into a top-tier talent, he was doing it for the sake of the People. To make our warriors stronger in a time when there is a reasonable question of whether our might will be enough to survive. We have already been driven from our ancestral homes. Our greatest cities lay in ruin, and the enemy that pushed us to the breaking point is still holding their knife to our backs. Entire clans have gone missing. Either being killed, joining the millions already dead in this war, or enslaved by the Letairry. We need an advantage. That is a given. Those who claimed we could stand alone against the endless hoards have long since died. But she," Derg spun around as he spits out the word while pointing directly at Kanieta, "would have us kneel at the feet of those who think of us as little more than animals. To beg them for help, while they should be the ones begging for our forgiveness. We have been fighting the latest chapter of a war that is as much theirs as ours, for the Letairry won''t stop at just our destruction. No, I will not beg them for help. And I will not be a part of the Conclave as they seek to do so."


    A smile twitched at Kanieta''s lips. Is he withdrawing his faction from the Conclave? I guess he has the numbers to try and make his own territory¡­ What''s that smell?


    Lowering his pointing arm, Derg clasped his hands behind his back and turned, walking to the center of the Platform. "Doing so would be the same as sitting back and watching the esteemed Faction Leaders throw away our heritage and beliefs. I offer this choice here and now. To those who believe in our right to ru¡ª


    "AMBUSH!" Screamed a voice right behind Kanieta, cutting off Derg. The moment she heard it, her head started to turn, looking for danger. Before she could even turn her head to see who shouted, something slammed into her back.


    Arms wrapped around her waist as an unnatural force pushed her the thirty feet to the center platform.


    Turning her head when she finally stopped, Kanieta saw, to her shock, that the entire section that she was just sitting in was a mess. A ten-foot area was completely clear, and a jumble of bodies and furniture surrounded it. Some people were quickly moving away, but others were just getting up and looking around in confusion.


    Lowering her gaze to look at what had struck her, she found Green clutching at her waist, his face buried in the side of her tails. Heat entered her cheeks as she saw where his face was, and she froze in uncertainty.


    Seconds passed, and her confusion turned into a simmering rage. When Scout Green finally bothered to look up at her ¡ª instead of burying his face in her tails like a deviant ¡ª his eyes were slightly glazed over. It took a few quick blinks before his eyes regained their focus.


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    Not bothering to move from where she lay on her side and looking down the length of her body, she stared flatly into Green''s chagrined face. He slowly disentangled himself from where he was wrapped around her body and leaned back on his heels.


    Bringing one of his hands behind his head, he opened his mouth. "Heh heh¡­ Ahh, sooo~ might have been a bit wrong about the timing. My mind got slightly overwhelmed by the flood of information I was digging through. But I''m not wrong."


    "What are you talk¡ª


    *Splat*


    It was the sound of a ton of wet ground meat hitting the floor in a single mass after being dropped multiple stories. The floor shook slightly, and there was a sudden crack as the stone floor broke from the impact.


    Kanieta''s eyes widened in horror as she looked at what had fallen to the ground behind Green. The flesh mound looked a lot like an egg someone had cracked, the yolk in the center with the white around it.


    Though instead, it was like someone had ripped the flesh from a hundred people and piled their muscles and fat into a mound before dropping it. The sections of meat oozed streams of blood over the flesh lumps beneath them until it all pooled on the ground.


    A squelching sound like a suction cup slowly being pulled up filled the chamber. Kanieta watched it all, unable to move as the edges of the abomination rolled back to the center. As more of its mass collected, tentacles of flesh began sprouting over its form.


    Then the screams started.


    A dozen of Kanieta''s chieftains were caught within the edges of the abomination''s form. Those that had their legs or more than an arm enveloped were quickly pulled into the flesh blob without a sound.


    The unlucky ones only had a small tendril attached to them, and it was their screams that filled the air.


    Instead of pulling the Kin into the flesh, the tendrils sucked away the flesh of the Kin. The effect was something like their bodies were melting around the pulsing flesh appendages. Some ripped off the flesh tendrils, but all that did was make a new target as they latched into the hand holding them.


    Some were smart and pulled out knives from the confines of their clothing, but cutting a single tentacle while a dozen more were already launching themselves at you mattered little.


    Within seconds of the abomination landing where she was just sitting, the bones of her chieftains began clattering against the ground. There were cracks in the bones, where the marrow was ripped out, but other than that, they were unscathed.


    All the creature wanted was more flesh. Bones were of little interest, apparently.


    Quite literally pulled out of her shock, Kanieta was once again sliding across the ground.


    Green''s arm dug into her waist as he focused on something to the side. An instant after they started moving, a tendril of flesh as large as her torso slammed into the ground with a wet thwack.


    Kanieta was so caught up in watching those screaming in agony that she had missed the abomination moving to attack her.


    Even as the impact echoed around the room, Derg''s voice thundered, "I had hoped that the Red Tails would be dealt with all at once, but few things ever go exactly as planned. To everyone else, I will give you a simple choice, swear loyalty to me and my cause by your mana, or die. I think I''ll have better luck dealing with your replacements."


    At some point during the distractions, Derg''s lackeys had moved from their section and rushed to form a circle around him. The faint blue haze of Enhancement Magic formed around their bodies and weapons as now half of them had stone clubs in their hands.


    Sliding to another stop, she looked up at Green kneeling above her. He had turned around, his focus shifting to the dangers they left rather than getting away.


    His shaggy hair, which wasn''t quite long enough to reach his eyebrows, was the same golden shade as a wheat field. But her gaze focused below that, on his piercing emerald eyes. It was almost like they were faintly glowing with an inner light.


    "Why?" She couldn''t help but ask, her irritation forgotten by the fact he had saved her life. Since she found him looking at the destroyed Healer''s House, she had felt the smoldering hatred directed her way. It wasn''t hard to guess someone Green cared about deeply was buried under those broken walls.


    And yet, instead of letting her die horribly, he saved her.


    His eyes flicked to her, and a harness in their depth surfaced as their gazes met, "Between him and you, I would rather you be in charge. Especially if that''s what he does to his own people."


    Kanieta looked at the abomination, a shudder running through her as she saw its lazily flailing tentacles. Then the entire shape shuddered, the portion closest to her stretched out, and the whole mass shifted closer.


    Pulling on her mana on reflex, she felt the cold, slick energies of shadows start coursing through her body and mind. The cool power slowed her racing heart, and the last hints of the shock vanished as the world slowed.


    She was in the most simple situation imaginable, kill or be killed.


    "What is that, and how is it killed?" Green cautiously asked.


    She glanced at him and noticed his hand clutching his sword''s hilt. The badgers would think disarming someone a grave insult, and after he was freed, there was no real point to it and more to gain politically in a show of trust.


    Sucking in a breath that only shuddered slightly in the beginning, ¡ª might not have been as calm as I thought ¡ª Kanieta started speaking while moving back to keep her distance, ¡°That¡­ ¡ª and I can¡¯t believe I''m saying it ¡ª it¡¯s a blood golem. Everyone capable of making them was thought to have been killed decades ago. Anyway, somewhere in that flesh is a red crystal about the size of several fists stacked on top of each other. Smash i¡ª


    "Look out!" someone shouted from behind.


    Not thinking, Kanieta dove to the side, pushing mana into one of her focuses that caused her form to be clad in shadows as a spell activated. Instead of a leap of four feet, she blurred forward and appeared with a shadowy puff twenty-five feet away.


    Motion to her side caught her attention, and she raised her right arm, her shield bracelet activating, covering her in a dome of shadows. A moment later, she felt a chunk of the mana she had pushed into her bracelet disappear and weathered the mental strain of resisting the impact with a grunt.


    Dropping the shield, she took a quick look around and caught the sight of the red and sickly yellow tentacle of another abomination before she streaked away again, heading towards a gathering of familiar figures.


    Quick as her glance was, Kanieta saw the forms of three more golems in the chamber. And should feel in her gut more would come.

 B2 Chapter 18

    I pulled on my harness when I heard the shout of warning, propelling my body in the opposite direction from Kanieta.


    Releasing a small pulse ¡ª this was not the time to be overwhelmed by information ¡ª I revealed everything around me for ten feet. Another ¡ª what was it? Blood golem? ¡ª had almost fallen on top of us again.


    Angling my dodge more to the left, I heard the whoosh of air around the chest-sized tentacle the blood golem had formed while falling before I saw it. The main tentacle wouldn''t hit me, but smaller offshoots were reaching out from its sides, and they were getting close.


    The golem shook the ground as it impacted and squished down without splattering apart.


    Even when I was ten feet from the now paddle-like tentacle and farther from the center mass, I never stopped backpedaling to create more distance. I am not being swallowed by one of those, I thought with determination.


    As I was fleeing, I saw Kanieta streak away. I was moving fast. From a dead stop, I was moving to the side at nearly a sprint without frantically pumping my legs.


    Kanieta made me look slow, like a child trying to keep up with an adult.


    While I had moved around ten feet, she streaked to a stop at what must have been thirty feet from me. A spot that happened to be in the shadow of another falling blood golem.


    Kanieta''s arm snapped up, and shadows enveloped her.


    I wasn''t quite sure what was happening, as the shadows were writhing around her made it, you know, hard to see, but it didn''t look like the tentacle slowed at all as it came down. It was as if the tentacle couldn''t find purchase on anything and slipped to the side to hit the ground.


    Then the gathered shadows began to fade, and once they were gone, so was Kanieta.


    Short sword in hand, my eyes flicked around the room, but I kept one eye constantly looking upward. I had learned my lesson.


    Every second was filled with the screams of those caught in the grip of the ¡ª there really is no better way to describe them other than abominations. Unnatural horrors that were a blight on the world and would forever haunt my nightmares was also apt.


    It had only been a handful of seconds since the blood golems had fallen, yet the area around the golems and the center platform was nearly deserted, with rare forms sprinting past.


    There were now three main groups in the chamber. Two were pounding on the doors on opposite sides of the chamber.


    Not that the doors glowing a deep red around the frame seemed to care. Some of the hits connecting with them were so strong that they boomed through the room like impacts of the flesh golems falling. And yet, the doors didn''t look like they so much as shook in their hinges.


    The last group, and the one I intuited through my detective skills was the source of this attack, was those standing on the center platform in the ray of light.


    "Anyone who approached my chieftains, and sware on their mana to serve me, will not be attacked by the blood golems!" Shouted Chieftain Derg, his voice ringing out above the din. Yep, I was totally right.


    I eyed the mounts of flesh slowly moving away from me then I looked at the glowing figures standing in the center of the room.


    "Which of the feckers are we killing first," Growled a voice next to me in anticipation.


    Head snapping to my right, I saw the badger beastkin standing next to me, his claws opening and closing while he bounced on the balls of his feet. Every bounce was taking him slightly closer to the golems.


    I didn''t see Kanieta anywhere, and keeping her safe and sticking to her side was the only way I could see of getting out of this situation alive. The best way of doing that was slipping out of this trap. "I''m not sure fighting i¡ª


    "I know ya want to go right to fighting that Ass-sniffer trying to make himself look pretty over there, but he''s supposed to be quite the warrior. We should save the best for last. But I mean, let''s be honest," the fucking badger said, leaning close to me as if he was imparting some grand secret but not lowering his voice in the slightest, "I think his skills aren''t worth mentioning. All he is really known for is his pretty face and the numbers within his warbands. I mean, what type of bastard relies on magical creatures to do their fighting? He must be afraid to get his fur messy and look like the shaggy mutt he is."


    I was slowly walking away from the badger, but he was moving in step with me, oblivious to the effect of his words.


    First off, all of the beastkin in the center platform had turned to look at us, their canine ears twitching. And the two closest blood golems had stopped their movement away and started moving and started shivering.


    "I always hated the arrogance of badgers," Derg said, his voice promising death. "They''re almost as bad as Olimpians. Kill the vermin first so we can get on with the oaths." He waved his arm as if he was signaling someone.


    None of the large and muscular beastkin on stage moved. What¡ª


    Chieftain Franklin shouted in challenge, and I pivoted around. My eyes widened, and I took a step back in primal fear.


    The blood golems had somehow traveled half the distance between us and were now lunging forward.


    This wasn''t a tentacle trying to smash me or sweeping over the ground. The bodies had surged twenty feet into the air and started crashing down toward me.


    Instinctually, I let out a pulse.


    Pushing off my back foot, I surged ahead. Shaping my mental energy, a tendril exploded from my chest, catching on my harness before extending past and tugging on it.


    No one really knew why, but so long as they intended for a force to be exerted in a certain way with their mental energy, it was. Making what should be impossible possible.


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    The distance between my footfalls and speed nearly doubled as my movement was no longer reliant on my legs. But I knew I was moving too slowly, so I pushed out a surge of mental energy to pull me along ever faster.


    After two more steps, I felt a burst of air hit my back, and there was a vibration that ran up my foot as the latest blood golem to fall from above hit the ground right behind me.


    The two other blood golems started curving inward and down to my left and right, cutting off my escape to the sides.


    "Run through the gap!" I shouted at the badger, who looked like he was going to run straight into the welcoming tendrils of the blood golem on the right. "There''s one behind us!"


    The badger beastkin threw a look over his shoulder, his lips pulled back, showing off all of his teeth. "Wonderful! Pressed on all sides, and little hope of survival! What is a better first fight for us!"


    Turning away from the crazy beastkin, I focused on the gap between the two blood golems. Fecking badgers. I was getting a very specific impression of this type of beastkin, and the urge to separate myself from them was growing.


    My breath burned in my throat as I pumped my legs as hard as possible, my arms swinging at my sides.


    Keeping up a constant flow of mental energy from my core, I released pulses as fast as I could gather and expel the energy. With how my pulses now lingered, providing more information, it was like four people were releasing pulses instead of one. There were still moments when I knew nothing, but I had a terrific mental picture of the collapsing flesh walls around me flowing through my mind.


    Bulges on the wall extended into tendrils that reached out for Chieftain Franklin and me.


    The stupid badger continued on his direct path for the right blood golem, but with every step he took, the stone floor was running up his legs. His size doubled, then he tripled in a matter of seconds, and he fell to all fours with a boom.


    What had once been a figure of mostly a man had become a stone badger as large as a horse. The fur of the moving stone construct were stone spikes while the teeth and claws serrated on their inside edge, designed to teeth into the flesh of anything they swiped over.


    From my pulses, I could tell that there wasn''t a single side of the creature that wasn''t pointy and designed to kill.


    Chieftain Franklin leaped at the wall of the muscle and fat, and the golem opened wide like some kind of monstrous four-sectioned mouth. I only got a brief glance into it before I looked away and focused on my closing exit, but the opening really did look like the inside of a mouth. The folds of fat and mussel took on the appearance of the roof of the mouth.


    As soon as the chieftain entered the new chamber, the flesh walls closed up, appearing like they had never spread apart in the first place.


    I waited for half a second, almost believing that the beastkin would explode out the other side of the entire golem or that it would suddenly collapse into a pile of disconnected parts as he spun in the middle.


    But nothing happened.


    The two sides of my death tunnel were barely outside my arm''s reach, but that didn''t matter. If the walls were all I had to worry about, I was sure I would make it. Staying positive, I thought, I got thi¡ª


    A tendril exploded from the wall driving for my chest. Fuck¡­


    Slashing my sword at the closest flesh tendril, I sliced off the last six inches of the appendage. But the attack threw off my balance and slowed me down, forcing me to dive into a roll to dodge another tendril spearing for my back.


    Releasing my sword as I rolled, I caught it with a tendril and began spinning it around my body faster and harder than my arm could possibly manage. It didn''t matter how much one practiced. Swinging a sword behind their back with any level of force was impossible.


    Swinging a sword with a tendril behind the back was easy. Didn''t help with not having eyes on the back of my head, though.


    I was releasing a pulse about twice a second, and how it was lingering now, I got an extra fourth of a second longer. But that still left half a second. Even the movement of your eyes to the side and then back could be the difference between dodging a knife in the throat or not, and that was far more than half a second.


    Even as I was rolling over my shoulder and across my back, my sword spun around me three times. While I was not holding the sword with my own hand, I felt a mental twitch every time the sword came into contact with a flesh tendril.


    Five Tendrils falling to the ground later, I was coming to my feet, pulling myself forward with a mental strand.


    My sword shot forward, trimming the brush from my path. I could see the darkness from the increasingly bright pulsing red light that was enveloping me.


    Steps growing lighter as I rushed to exi¡ª


    The blood golem on my right suddenly bubbled out into cones, then exploded into me.


    Before I could react, the warm flesh hit me in the side, throwing me into the opposite golem. I instantly felt the golem ballooning around my body, trapping it in place.


    Then I felt pricks all over my body as the golem started jamming its flesh tentacles into me.


    As soon as my skin was broken, I felt¡­ blood enter my body.


    I knew it wasn''t actually blood, but as my mind skimmed over the invasive energy, it was like slitting a throat of an animal and letting the blood run through my fingers.


    It was tainted, though. The energy blood was like what would come from a necrotic wound, and the energy only gained in strength as it ate away at my body.


    A scream ripped itself from my throat, but it wasn''t one of mind-blanking pain. I had felt pain far worse than this. Pain no one was ever meant to endure.


    Feeling my muscles being pulled away from my bones was now like a knife stabbing me. It was painful and concerning, but it wasn''t like a boulder smashing the bottom half of my body.


    No, my scream was one of wrath. I felt the energy.


    It was like looking at a page of a scroll, all laid out before my eyes.


    The energy wasn''t uniform. It was a mixture made from a hundred beings fused to act as a single whole.


    Men and women, young and old.


    The caster of this spell didn''t care who the fuel was. And the innocent were the ones being punished. Those who had never taken a sentient soul in their life.


    Reaching out, I pulled, and the power of the world flooded into my core, filling it to the brim and then beyond in an instant.


    I didn''t try to control the energy, only throwing my will to destroy the golem behind it as it flowed threw me. It was enough.


    The power raged through my body, pushing out all of the invasive blood energy. Then the energy started moving into the blood golem from where it was connected to me, driving back the blood energy saturating the flesh.


    The abomination''s blood energy offered no resistance as my power surged ever deeper. It was only a couple moments later before I felt the core of the creature, which could finally resist the rush of the energy, if barely.


    I could feel the mass of crystallized blood in my mind, an eternal hunger for more blood radiating off it. Then I squeezed. It was no more effort than popping a grape.


    The moment the crystal broke, I felt it release a shockwave that carried some of my energy along with it in a pseudo pulse.


    Opening my eyes, I ignored the information I was getting. I saw the flesh encasing me be blown away by the power coming off my body before I focused inward again, my eyes glazing over.


    I stood in place for a moment as I struggled to stop the endless energy pouring into my core and ravaging my body. It was like fighting against a strong wind. Something that no one was meant to control, only whether. And my body wasn''t doing that great of a job.


    Seconds passed, and I slowly closed the mental door I had ignorantly thrown open, sealing myself off from whatever wellspring of power that was flowing through me.


    A blur ran up to me as I was focused inward, and I blinked and saw a wide maw of teeth surrounded by gore. Dropping into a crouch, I readied myself to fight the latest abomination.

 B2 Chapter 19

    The world around Kanieta snapped into focus as she came to a stop. It wasn''t that she lost sight of everything around her with the use of her spell. A movement spell would be kind of useless if that was the case.


    Because what''s the point of an escape spell if you only end up in the same situation you were trying to escape due to an inability to see what''s in front of you? Then again, it could be that you ended up in a situation in that no magic short of full-on teleportation could save you ¡ª which was theoretically possible though no one Kanieta knew had a teleportation spell.


    But there was no getting around the fact Kanieta used shadow magic. So while she was propelled by and slipped through the shadows, it came with the disadvantage that anything farther than twenty feet away was beyond her sight. And even things ten feet away were hazy.


    Thanks to her heritage and magic, shadows hindered her sight very little. Looking into dark shadows wasn''t as clear as day, but few could use them to hide from her gaze.


    Magical shadows were different, though. Even Kanieta''s own conjured shadows were hard for her to see through, and those of others were basically opaque. The same rules applied to every other shadow mage.


    So when Kanieta appeared next to a group of her chieftains, and Shadow Spikes stopped less than an inch from her throat, she wasn''t surprised.


    Freezing in place, Kanieta held her open hands to the sides facing forward. A moment passed, then a voice lashed out, "Can you not recognize our Faction Leader after a few seconds of absence? Drop your shoddy spells and move aside already!"


    Appearing from the shadows between the four Kin positioned around her, Lurta walked towards Kanieta. "Glad to see you as well as ever, Elder," Kanieta said as she turned to sweep around the area.


    "Why wouldn''t I be fine? I was the first one to react. These children would be dead without me taking the Olimpian seriously."


    "Ahh." Lurta was known for her nose for danger, and even if it wasn''t true, pointing that out would help no one.


    The small group was standing a little to the side of the northern doors to the chamber and was one of the few groups with some level of organization.


    Blood golems had a grotesque appearance, but that wasn''t why the chieftains were panicking. Well, that wasn''t the only reason. The main reason would stem from their childhood.


    Everyone knew the stories of the Blood Witch and her creations. The Blood Witch appeared centuries ago, at a time when the People were struggling to hold back the Letairry. She offered a solution.


    Mindless flesh creations which could be guided from afar and would only grow stronger the longer a battle lasted. While they could not hold up to the Letairry themselves, they were the perfect answer to the Lost.


    The Lost won battles with numbers, but the blood golems would turn those numbers against them.


    From standing on the brink of destruction, the situation completely turned around as the People pushed back the Letairry. They were even able to drive the dark elves back to their surface cities with a sea of blood buoying them up.


    But the blood magic began to change those who wielded it. Twisted their minds to continuously seek after more. To quench their ever-growing thirst for power.


    Then the endless foes vanished, and the People had to push into the depths of the earth to fight their eternal foe. The blood mages led the charge with their creations, but even they were ground to a halt.


    The war turned into a grind of attrition, and their once limitless power, thought to be a vast river, had tightened to little more than a stream. So they turned on the rest of the People.


    Some blood mages lashed out due to madness, others as they sought to cast powerful blood magic to affect the Letairry.


    There was a secret that only a few Faction Leaders now knew. There was a quirk of blood magic. The more that was sacrificed, both in terms of quantity and quality, the greater the power. While quantity was a linear progression of power, quality could be exponential.


    If a mother sacrificed their beloved daughter, they would gain a hundred times that of a stranger. To a lesser degree, the same held true for children and adults.


    After all, a child has limitless potential, while an adult is already constrained by the choices they made over the course of their life.


    So as the endless war of their people ground to a halt, people began to vanish. It took a while, but the cause was eventually discovered. The Blood Witch and her disciples were planning a great spell.


    Driven by madness and hatred, the Blood Witch sought to utterly destroy the Letairry and would do anything to accomplish that goal.


    It was nearly too late by the time it was discovered. Warbands marched on the blood mages'' ritual, only to find that the golems that led them to victory were now turned against them. The People learned of the horror they had let loose on the world, as their own losses and deaths were turned into weapons against the living.


    The cost of life was high, but the Blood Witch''s spell was eventually destroyed. The records of it are scarce as most were eradicated when it became the first forbidden spell.


    Supposedly, the perverse piece of spell craft would sacrifice all the People, no matter where they were, to create a living curse. The curse would then spread like a living plague on the wind to pursue and kill every dark elf.


    True, it would finally win them the war, but calling it a pyrrhic victory would be the biggest understatement in the People''s history.


    Though the spell was stopped and the Blood Witch was believed to be killed, her disciples remained.


    The blood mages became a festering wound on the side of the People. Blood mages always joined or created covens, their leader taking on the name the Blood Witch in honor of the first as they sought to reestablish their order. Though they only ever caused havoc across the Peoples'' lands.


    They were hunted whenever they were found, but that mattered little. Because they were most often found when the blood mages sacrificed entire villages, towns, and even a few cities to create some fowl magic.


    The stories of blood mages and their abominations have become the stuff of nightmares. Stories mothers told to children to scare them into finishing their food or going to sleep.


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    It had been decades since the last blood mage was found, but everyone recognized what the creatures falling from above were. Or they should.


    One of the worst things about blood golems was they would be just fine even if the controlling blood mage was killed. It was just that the creatures became mindless and, thus, easier to handle.


    The best course of action would be to put some distance between them and the golems while they searched for and killed the mage, so the creations couldn''t work in concert.


    Kanieta could see that few, if any, of those by the doors had gone through this line of thought. All they knew was a blood mage, and their creations were nearby, and they needed to escape.


    It was to be expected, as half of the factions present weren''t known for combat, but she even saw a few of her own chieftains in the mass of people by the doors.


    At least most of the ones she saw had joined the ranks of the Shimmer Scales and taken up position on the outer edge of the crowd. The center was composed of the Dark Haven, with the Twin Horn Faction pounding on the walls and door. If anyone could break them open, it would be them.


    But the dark red glow of blood magic around the frame showed that the doors wouldn''t give way anytime soon. Which left only one option.


    Lifting her chin, Kanieta pulled on her mana to cast a spell. She didn''t shout. If anything, it was little more than a whisper, but the shadows carried her words to everyone crowded around the door. "The doors are sealed, and we are trapped. Either die failing to escape or join me and fight to live."


    Heads snapped to face her, but she was already turning away. They would come, or they wouldn''t. The time for words and thoughts had passed.


    As she turned to face the center of the room, Kanieta couldn''t miss the dull red light coming off the two looming hills of the blood golems. They were quickly slurping toward her and were more than halfway between her and the center stage. Her gaze only lingered on them for a moment before she dismissed them and looked at the figure standing in the center of the ray of light.


    Derg stood with an imperious look, watching the blood golems impassively. Fear might have clouded the mind of those present, but they will soon realize the consequences of today if they haven''t already. Derg has gone too far, Kanieta thought with grim certainty. If he doesn''t kill or make us swear to him here, the whole Conclave will turn against him.


    "What''s the plan," asked Hartloe, "Who was now standing by Lurta''s side.


    "Stab and slice the golems until we shatter their cores? Find and kill the blood mage before or after we kill Derg?" Kanieta asked more than she said.


    "Kind of light on the details," Hartloe commented.


    "Got a better one?"


    "No, no, no. I''m just making small talk. I''ll slow the left one down. You take the right." At his words, a ghostly silver light flooded the area around them.


    Before Kanieta could turn to look, a pale fist-sized spark of fire streaked past her on the left. As it traveled, the fire split into four flames of equal size. Then the lumps of light in the darkness grew into large wolf-sized foxes, their firey tails trailing silver fire behind them.


    The pale silver fire foxes landed before the blood golem, which lashed out with blood tentacles, only to have them burned to ash as they stabbed into the flames.


    Then the foxes began racing around and leaping over the blood golem. From their tails, chains of fire unspooled and hung in the air. The fire foxes danced around the golem with quick movements, forming a cage of fire around the abomination.


    Tendrils from the flesh creation tried to worm their way out of the cage through its gaps, only for the chains to shift and burn the tendril away.


    "Can''t hold it long," Hartloe said, his voice sounding slightly strained.


    "The Firefox''s Chain?" Lurta commented, "How did you have the time to cast that?"


    "Not all of us were wasting our time while run¡ª


    Not wasting any more time listening to the old windbags arguing, Kanieta ran forward. Her mind split as she guided her mana to perform several tasks simultaneously.


    Most of her attention was focused on preparing her defensive foci to activate at a moment''s notice. While the lesser part of her mind focused on making attack spells and holding them ready for use. What''s the point of killing something if you die doing it?


    As mana flowed through her mind, the world around her slowed down as her mind raced. Flicking her wrist, she sent two Shadow Spike spells at the golem.


    The spell circles shot forward, each one hitting the ground next to the golem.


    With a pulse of mana, the spells activated, drawing in and creating thick shadows around the spell circles within a moment. Then the loos shadows condensed and surged up, a condensed shadow spike buried itself into the pulsing side of the creature.


    If it noticed at all, the blood golem didn''t show it. A slurp sounded as the golem stretched forward, its body moving around the shadow spears like they weren''t even there.


    This isn''t going to work¡­Ahh, fuck it.


    Dancing closer to the golem, Kanieta discarded her Shadow Spike spell and started forming new ones. When she got closer to the abomination, tendrils reached out for her.


    Like a shadow, she slipped in and around the flesh tendrils. Kanieta swayed beneath on tendril, then leaped a second and dropped into a roll. The whole time she was in constant motion. At times she was close enough to feel the warmth of the blood golems tendrils, but never once did she let them touch her.


    When she spotted a particularly thick section of tendrils, whether it was a single large one or multiple clumped together, she would activate her Shadow Slice spell, chopping it off.


    Even as her shadow blade was still slicing through the golem''s tendrils, Kanieta would activate a Shadow Tendril Spell that wrapped itself around the flesh and fling it away from the golem.


    It was a fight of attrition. Seconds passed, and Kanieta''s heart pounded in her chest as she focused on her next steps. Sweat prickled at her brow from the exertion, and fear bubbled up inside of her as she could feel death beckoning to her no more than a misplaced movement away.


    But as she slipped between the shadows, looping pieces off the golem and throwing them away, she could not contain the smile on her face. She enjoyed this.


    Proving her strength and skill in the ultimate contest of life and death.


    Kanieta lost track of how many times she repeated the same actions. It felt like hours had passed, but it was probably only seconds before a voice boomed in her ears, breaking through her isolating concentration. "Move aside!"


    Activating her shadow sprint spell, she streaked away from the golem.


    When she was ten feet away, she came to a stop, her chest heaving as she cautiously watched the golem for something to happen. She didn''t have to wait long.


    Though she hardly noticed, the golem had been cut down to half its size. "Arggg!" Screamed someone from the side in a challenge. A moment later, a figure appeared in the corner of her eyes, their arm raised.


    As the arm dropped, a flat rock wider than the golem came crashing down, smashing the flesh creature flat. The creature''s meat squirted out from under the rock, splattering over the entire area.


    "Ugh~." Kanieta spat as her face was covered in gore. Reaching up, she whipped the mess from her face and flicked her wrist to clean her hand. It was enough to clear her vision, but she could still feel it covering her face.


    "Look out!" Someone shouted. Kanieta didn''t know if the shout was for her, but she spun around, looking for danger, and activated her shield focus.


    As the shadows curled around her, Kanieta saw a red and sickly yellow wall sweeping toward her from the corner of her eye.


    She strained to hold the shield as the tendril impacted by dumping more mana into it, but her shield could not push the tendril to the side like it had before. It was positioned too well. Though she slowed to the tendril to a crawl, the blood golem brushed aside her defenses.


    Letting out a grunt of pain, Kanieta flew backward as the tendril impacted the side of her chest.


    The world around her became a blur as she tumbled over the ground. Then Kanieta smashed into something as she came to a stop.


    Lifting her head up from where she lay, she quickly glanced around before her eyes settled on Derg, only tens of feet away.


    His eyes gleamed with a vicious inner light as if he was excited to see her lay on the ground wounded and bloody, a sneer of derision on his face.


    Sneering right back at him, Kanieta lashed out with three spells, grabbing hold of the chairs around her before throwing them.


    Two of them were smashed out of the air by Derg''s guards before they even had a chance to enter the platform.


    "Was that meant to hit me?" He drawled, completely unconcerned.


    "No," Kanieta replied with a smile, "it was meant to hit them."


    Derg''s brown furrowed as a voice shrieked, "Who''s the fecker that threw a chair~!"

 B2 Chapter 20

    "Who the feck is shouting so loud!?" Shouted a shrill voice, "Don''t ya know people are sleeping over here!"


    "It''s ya''r shrieking that''s waken everyone up!" Screamed back the old man, "Then again, an old bat like ya can''t hea¡ª Hmm, I smell blood."


    "What?! Oh, the spirits of our ancestors preserve us! Barlot can finally smell himself! We might finally find relea¡ª Hun? What¡¯s tha¡ª Hey, which fecker started a fight without inviting us? Wake up, ya unperceptive children! Why am I the one waking you up when there''s shite to kill!? Where''s the respect for your elders?"


    Kanieta''s smile was stretching ear to ear as she looked at Derg. His eyes were squinted as he looked to the side. She could practically see the irritation radiating off of him.


    "Ahhh, I guess that we will have to do this the hard way." Derg shook his head like he regretted the necessity of his actions, but he would do them regardless.


    Kanieta scrutinized Derg and the mana around him and his men. While the entire room was filling with blood mana, as far as she could tell, Derg wasn''t the one controlling it or the golems. He was obviously in league with the blood mage, but it didn''t look like it was someone on the stage, as all she saw from them was pure mana.


    It would be weird if someone on stage could control blood mana, as having two domains of magic was extremely rare. And blood magic and enhancing magic had little in common. Despite that, a question lingered in Kanieta''s mind.


    Derg waved his hand like a signal, and a moment later, the blood mana in the chamber shuddered.


    What is go¡­ Ice gripped Kanieta''s heart even as heat prickled against her skin, and she looked up. The sun had moved into position directly above and was now shining down the center hole of the Great Hall.


    There was a rustling as if thousands of snakes were moving over each other, and then the roof began to fold outward. Pulled by the vines covering the walls, five sections of the ceiling broke apart, letting in light.


    It was supposed to be an awe-inspiring moment. Where the Conclave would pronounce its verdict or start a recess until the following day, witnessed by the heavens while they were at their brightest.


    Something those present during the Grand Hall''s first usage could look back on with pride and fondness and share the event with their children and grandchildren.


    But if anyone looked back on today and spoke of it to their descendants, there would be no fondness or excitement in their voice. Only a wretched feeling of disappointment and betrayal as the harsh reality of mortal greed and cruelty slugged them in the nose.


    There was no life overhead. No, that wasn''t right.


    No matter the perversions that were done to create the blood golems, they operated with some facsimile of life.


    They ate. They grew. They produced waist and reproduced.


    And it was said the blood golems could feel emotions, but it was only an endless hunger for more food. More flesh.


    It was a loose definition, but it was still believed that, in some sense, they were still alive.


    So there was at least one life, and possibly hundreds, overhead.


    As more light poured in, it revealed a massive network of interlacing flesh tendrils spanned every inch of the seating.


    "There were thousands¡­" Kanieta whispered to herself in horror as the whole reality of the situation settled over her mind. Thousands she was meant to protect.


    No matter what anyone said, this was her fault. She was the one who pushed for the People to come south and seek out help from the Olimpians and build new fortifications in the lull of war.


    The Crescent Moon had been howling for decades about subjugating the Olimpians, but they weren''t serious. Most of their attention was on preparing for the next battle with the Letairry. That was all that was on anyone''s mind for a long time.


    It was Kanieta''s scouts that scoured the southern slopes of the Broken Peaks while collecting and processing the information they found looking for mountain passes. She went to merchants, crafters, farmers, and anyone else who seemed helpful in forming a plan of what it would take to feed, house, supply, and move the People.


    Years of work while she watched the war progress to an inevitable conclusion she and those around her had long foreseen. The whole time she was berated for not doing her part.


    But that didn''t stop her. Kanieta gathered anyone who would listen to her and prepared for the Great Escape, as it became known. And when everyone finally realized that they would lose this war if nothing changed, she presented her strategy to the Conclave. Out of other options, they agreed.


    So she guided those that had no other choice but to believe in her dream of the future. But now, those she led, the ones who made her dream a reality, were being killed.


    They were not killed by the Latairry or the Olimpians but by their own kin. Because Kanieta created a scheme and took every chance to push it forward as she sought to undermine the Crescent Moon to place her in of position of power.


    She knew Derg would respond, but Kanieta never imagined he would go so far as to work with a blood mage.


    True, most of the civilians would have already died or been enslaved without her, but that didn''t mean she was absolved from all guilt for everything that happens to them in the future. If anything, it meant that she would hold more of the weight for the consequences upon her shoulders.


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    And now, thousands of those who had followed her were dead.


    Dead in a way that she would never want on her wors¡ª Well, maybe if it was Derg.


    The golem that Kanieta was having so much trouble with. Was nothing more than a drop in a storm. A drop of rain to the torrent that was about to fall on their heads.


    As she watched, dozens of golems started letting go and falling from the branches.


    She opened her mouth to shout a warning but found that nothing could make it through the tightness of her throat.


    "There isn''t enough for all of us." Complained one of the badgers.


    "Eek!" squealed another badger in the most excited tone Kanieta might have ever heard from one. "Their falling from above too! There''s more than enough of us all."


    "Maybe for ya lot with dusty and patchy fur, but I still got vigor in meh." Said one of the younger badger chieftains as the stone began to form up around him, "I call all the ones on the left."


    All the others started hollering out how they would kill the most while scampering off, as they ''called'' certain parts of the room.


    Badgers rushed past her as they tried to get into position to kill the golems right after they landed. But even with their immediate willingness to jump into action, the lowest golems were hitting the ground before most of the badgers could move more than a few dozen feet.


    Even with the new arrivals, the golems were falling surprisingly slowly. It seemed that even they had a limit to how hard they could hit.


    After they started falling in the air, their entire forms would spread out into a giant sheet. So instead of plunging straight down, they spiraled in large circles like birds. It was only at the last twenty or so feet that they compressed their mass to hit the ground hard.


    Tracking the falling blood golems, Kanieta''s blood began to boil. Letting the emotion guide her actions, she pulled on her core, collecting mana to create a spell form.


    Her knees became slightly weak, and her head throbbed as her core was emptied in an instant, but she ignored the discomfort. When more energy entered her core, she pulled that out, as well, and added it to her spell.


    It was a simple spell.


    Not the simplest spell, as technically, the simplest spells are single runes. Runes that fall into a category of Domains such as Earth, Fire, Water, Mana, and Blood. All of which are fields that have specific attributes associated with them that can be manipulated through magic.


    Every rune could fall into those terms in some ways, but that was beside the point. And anyone who walked that path got their own spectrum of advantages and disadvantages.


    At a basic level, a single darkness rune was a spell and a genuine path to power.


    If Kanieta had the willpower ¡ª which she did ¡ª she could cast a shadow rune and fill it with power making what would look like a sphere of darkness. Then, she could manipulate the shadows using her will and make a Shadow Spike or Tendril.


    Technically, every spell ever devised could be cast in such a way, though it wasn''t practical.


    This casting technique was how the badgers made their stone armor. Feeding mana into a rune and then exerting their will to shape what is already around them, if they don''t feel like spending the mana to make it, they usually don''t.


    Though that path has the downside that doing multiple things becomes exponentially harder. And anything complicated isn''t really possible, but it has its upsides too.


    The main strength is that most cannot match up to them in terms of their spells. It''s a significant enough difference in power that it''s more than could be laid at the feet of flooding the spell with mana or practice.


    Anyway, Kanieta''s First Circle spell had three separate runes. Shadow, Condense, and Spike, which was a basic Shadow Spike Spell, but no novice could ever cast it.


    Different tier spells were divided into circles.


    The First Circle spells had three runes to them. A Second Circle Spell needed three runes for the first level and up to six more to fill up the second level. And that process continued with the third level, as it took nine runes to fill up after all previous circles were filled. The Law of Three continued for every tier increase.


    However, one could have sub-runes that stack, augmenting specific aspects of a spell based on the caster''s intent without progressing to the next tier of the spell. Whatever the number of runes is for the highest circle of the spell, you can raise it to the power of three to get the number of sub-runes it can hold.


    The problem comes in when you use the same rune over and over. The mana cost and willpower to make the sub-rune and hold it in place is half the cost of the original for the same increase in power. But after the third sub-rune of the same type is put into place, the cost starts doubling per sub-rune, and the effects are only increasing the spell''s effect by half of the original.


    Overcasting a spell like that isn''t worth it most of the time, as it takes too long and too much mana. Though it is useful to make an overwhelming attack.


    Like, let''s say that a large leaf is slowly falling from really high up. A leaf that will wait to get right above you before changing into a boulder and dropping onto your head.


    In such a situation, a mage will have all the time they want to overcast a spell and would be a bit of an idiot not to.


    "Whoeverrr prepares an attack before they hit the ground is a fecking coward!" Shouted a badger causing Kanieta''s eye to twitch.


    Kanieta waited. She knew that sooner than later, she would be attacked. Until then, she was content to wait and prepare. To watch.


    Thanks to the badgers, those golems on the ground were torn to pieces in seconds. But there were far more where they came from. The badgers by the doors were even making underground stone bunkers for those who couldn''t fight. That''s awfully considera¡ª


    "Everyone get the feck in there!" Shouted a badger, "I don''t want ya ruining my glorious battle~!"


    ¡­Yep. Serves me right for expecting too much.


    Looking back to the sky, she saw a golem positioned above her. Its size was rapidly sucked in, and it fell like a spearhead.


    Kanieta moved to the side and flicked her wrist. The spell circle she had been making unfolded on the ground, and it was little more than a foot wide.


    It was, after all, a First Circle spell.


    Around the outside of the spell ring, seven identical Spike Runes glowed with mana. Two more, and she would have been maxed out. Pity I didn''t have more mana. Kanieta idly thought.


    In contradiction to the relatively small circle, shadows poured out of the spell, making a ten-foot patch of darkness, then it drove upwards.


    The spike nearly matched the golem in diameter as it fell. As the golem and overcharged Shadow Spike Spell closed together, the flesh of the golem parted, not because of the spike but because the golem was avoiding it by shifting its flesh to form a hole.


    When the golem was nearly to the base of the spike, Kanieta released her hold on the six other smaller shadow spikes of the spell. Though she couldn''t see it, she knew they came out of the sides of the central shadow spike and into the golem.


    With the spell still connected to her mind through a tether, she flexed her will, and the spell started spinning. The flesh of the golem started vibrating for a few moments, then, all at once, chunks began flying off the creature as her spell ripped it to pieces.


    Breathing like she had just sprinted for two miles, Kanieta kept one eye up as she started moving away. Battles were raging all around her now, and staying still was asking to get killed.


    Before she could move more than a few steps, she heard a shout behind her, "Kanieta!"

 B2 Chapter 21

    Blood golems blotted out the light, and the piles of flesh scattered over the floor were releasing rivers of blood to join the ocean already there.


    My steps, and everyone else''s, were marked by a splash, then a wet rip as the cooling blood was separated.


    Everywhere I looked, there was fighting.


    Badgers, in their stone war forms, tour into the golems as they landed.


    Beastkin that had to be bulls ripped up giant blocks of stone from the floor and smashed them into the golems, much to the annoyance of the badger being helped. The bulls usually had to dodge a swipe or two if they were close.


    In some places, the blood formed into blades before being launched into the air, slicing into the falling golems, or the blood was vaporized by fire along with the nearby tentacles.


    And around the room''s edges, I saw the flashing of fish scales and deep flickering shadows.


    But even if all the gathered beastkins were working together, the outcome was already assured.


    When I finally got around to processing the information I gained from shattering the golem''s core, I knew the reality of what we were facing. Well, mostly. There were hundreds of golems, and once I decided there were closer to a thousand than not, I stopped trying.


    Some of the best fighters that the beastkin had to offer might be around me, but they would be overwhelmed by numbers. Which was ironic as fuck, but I would enjoy the humor more if I wasn''t in the room.


    Then I released a pulse covering the chamber and found where Kanieta had gotten off to. Once I recovered from the flood of information, it brought me to where I am now.


    Running through the center of an increasingly frantic melee for the slight hope of escaping this alive.


    "Kanieta!" I shouted as she cast a spell, tearing apart a golem.


    The moment I shouted, a blood golem hit the ground between us. Not stopping, I pulled on my mental energy and fed it to the strands I was keeping around me.


    Dozens of flesh appendages telescoped out for me, most of them curling around the sides to hem me in, but I ignored them as I ran forward. I drove my mental energy into the meat.


    It was easy, like digging a furrow through the sand.


    When my tendrils entered the golem, a slight thrumming started beating against them. With a thought, I drove my mental strands forward, following the waves of power to its source.


    In a fraction of a second, my tendrils encased the blood crystal and squeezed, shattering it into fragments. Expecting the eruption of energy, I was able to resist sending out a quasi-pulse this time.


    Reshaping my tendrils with a twinge of willpower, I pulled them apart. As I rushed through the gap, the already slumping mound of flesh was separated, forming red walls on either side of me.


    ¡°Ahh¡­" Whined Chieftain Franklin as he ran next to me, "I didn''t even get to tear off a tendril."


    Ignoring the badger, I waved to Kanieta, who was searching for the one who called out to her.


    Her eyes settled on me, and I felt more than saw the darkness hanging around her. It wasn''t the whiffs of shadow unfurling from her body but her emotions.


    I could feel her guilt and the stench of failure. But most of all, a feeling of loss and burning rage was building up inside of her.


    Even while she was fighting, her mind was clouded as everything was focused inwards. A condition that was going to get her killed in this mess. I gotta shift it.


    It might have been how I called out to her or the look on my face, but Kanieta must have realized I had something important to tell her. Thick shadows wrapped around her body, and in the next moment, she was standing an arm''s reach from me.


    Moving right into what mattered, I started talking, but even then, I never stopped looking around for the closest blood golem. "That bastard in the center is the one controlling them all."


    ¡°¡­What? Derg?" Asked Kanieta, disbelief overflowing her voice.


    "I guess? I don''t really know or care what his name is. Look, when I killed a golem, I accidentally released a pulse along their network¡­" I could see a question on her lips, but I shook my head as I kept talking. "It doesn''t matter how it happened. I felt the energy connecting all of them. Derg is the center!" I even went so far as to turn and point at him for extra emphasis.


    "Besides," I said, throwing a glance up to the flock of blood golems, "Obviously, he is involved with these creatures. We might as well take him down with us."


    "Impossible!" Snarled Chieftain Franklin in a blood-curdling tone. Every warning bell in my head went off, and I pulled myself to the side with a mental strand and dropped into a fighting stance, "No Chieftain would sully their honor to associate with such filth."


    I looked at the badger incredulously, seeing that he was completely serious. Turning to Kanieta, I saw her looking away, her teeth worrying at her lip in thought.


    "Then why did he shout he would protect those who swore to him?" I asked the badger, "Why aren''t the golems attacking anyone on the stage?"


    He opened his mouth to respond to me but said nothing as his eyes darted around in suspicion. "I wasn''t really paying attention when I saw a fight start¡­" he muttered in careful thought.


    I watched him spin in place once, and I could feel the sudden focus as he scrutinized everything for the first time. His intensity was more than a little intimidating.


    Taking another step back, I lifted my hands and tendrils, my hand clutching my belt knife and my mental tendrils plucking up head-sized stones from the ground.


    I had seen Chieftain Franklin shout. I had seen him rage against the bars of our cage and curse everyone and thing around us. I had seen him and his people fight, tearing into each other.


    Even now, I could feel the enjoyment they got from this fight and the chance of death and could just imagine vicious grins on their faces as they leaped at their enemies.


    I thought I had seen them angry, but I hadn''t.


    As of this moment, I realized I have never seen them mildly irritated. It was just that their emotional spectrum was between active violence and crotchety asshole, making them always ready and willing to lash out at everything and anything around them.


    The blood lust radiating off the badger was literally visible. It started like blood was creeping into Franklin''s eyes before they shone, and then the glow spread around him, coloring the world around his body.


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    "Slowly take a step towards me." Kanieta said, her voice tense but level, "And lower your knife."


    I wanted to look at her, but I couldn''t bring myself to look away from the badger. One didn''t look away from a predator readying itself to lash out. And more important to me, one didn''t let their mind surf the waves of madness of someone in the throws of a bloodrage.


    It was easy to be caught up a carried along by such dark emotions.


    The tip of my arm shivered as I struggled internally to lower my arm. I knew being perceived as a threat would get me killed, but if I was going to die, I wouldn''t go down easy. I''m fighting to the death!


    Pushing away the intrusive instincts, I haltingly lowered my arm and slid my foot over the blood-soaked ground. It wasn''t very far, but it was far enough to help with the impulses to attack filling my mind.


    Throwing his arms wide, chieftain Franklin roared into the air. The roar was such that it echoed through the chamber even though the sounds of battle were thick in my ears.


    And amazingly, everyone and thing froze in place to look over at the source. Even the blood golems on the ground stopped writhing as if they looked at him.


    Chieftain Franklin lifted his right arm and pointed at the center of the platform. "BY THE RIGHT OF THE BADGERS, I NAME YOU AND YOUR''S TRAITORS! BETRAYERS~ OF THE PEOPLE!" His shouted pronunciation echoed across the room.


    "Hahaha!" Barked out Derg as he threw his head back in laughter. "What does that even mean? What does it matter? None of you stinking rodents will walk out o¡ª


    "BETRAYER~!" The chorused shout sounded like it was voiced by the earth itself, and it even shook the ground and the walls with the collective wrath.


    I looked around me, and I saw bright spots of red filling the room.


    It was the badgers'' eyes. The badgers'' stone eyes were glowing. Should be shielding my mind now, I thought, moving past that.


    Someone saying they hate something was easy. And for a moment, most could dredge up that level of emotion.


    Loathing something takes work.


    It didn''t happen on the spur of the moment. It would take a lifetime of indoctrination into a specific set of beliefs and then someone you once trusted breaking them all to spark that level of emotion.


    As the badgers spoke the word ''betrayer,'' their voices were filled with loathing.


    The room exploded into motion like some invisible signal was sent to everyone simultaneously. Everyone but the badgers.


    Golems fell from the sky, crashing into the ground with room-shaking thuds. The beastkins'' fight against the golems restarted with a vengeance, all but the badgers as they still glared rays of loathing from their eyes.


    Those golems that fell onto badgers or were close enough to wrap them up exploded a moment later as the stone badgers clawed their way out. The golems tried to stop the badgers by lashing out more flesh tendrils, but the attacks were ignored as the badgers began moving.


    Their stone fur rippled, and the appendages attempting to hold them back were shredded. Other golems tried to move into their paths, but they were shouldered out of the way without trouble or apparent notice.


    It wasn''t a unified charge, as the badgers were scattered across the room. However, every badger did charge.


    They no longer shouted or growled.


    They didn''t move their heads to the side for the next target.


    They only looked forward to their goal.


    A target that would need the Guardains'' help if he wanted a chance to survive.


    "So the Keepers of the People have judged." the old rabbit''s voice reverberated through the chamber, filled with power, and a white light grew in power to my right. "So will the People know."


    The swelling of white power vanished at his words, and nothing happened.


    Then dozens of bells told. From Chieftain Franklin and every other badger, I saw a ring of blue energy expand out from them.


    It ruffled my hair like a strong wind as it washed over me, but other than that, I felt nothing.


    But I saw Kanieta to my side nearly fall and have to step to the side to catch herself as it washed over her. Even the blood golems started shivering in place as if uncertain about what to do for a moment.


    Before I could move to steady Kanieta, she straightened up, new focus shining in her eyes.


    Seeing that she was okay, I turned to watch Chieftain Franklin as he charged the center platform with his kin. Then a shadow blurred from the corner of my eye to land on top of Chieftain Franklin.


    Already knowing the answer, I looked to my right. Kanieta was gone.


    The most prominent voice for peace between our peoples and the guarantor of my safety was charging into the center of the battle. Ancestor protect her, I thought with mild irritation.


    Kicking off the ground, I threw myself into a sprint, trying to catch up to Kanieta.


    The stone badger before me was the first to reach the glowing muscle-bound warriors.


    Stone head tilting to the side, the badger lunged at the beastkin blocking his path.


    The wolf beastkin stepped to the side and then lashed out with his arm. A crack sounded, and half of the badge''s stone head exploded into shards.


    Franklin swiped his paw at the beastkin as his body turned with the hit, his claws connecting with the beastkin. The noise was like a stone scraping over steel as the beastkin was forced back a step but was otherwise unharmed.


    A shadow tendril appeared from the beastkin''s feet, stopping his fist as it swung forward. As his arm came to a stop, a shadow spike stabbed out, striking the beastkin in the upper chest and knocking the wolfkin off balance.


    Adding onto the attack, Chieftain Franklin leaped forward, his paws reaching out to drive the beastkin into the ground.


    But with a roar, the blue glow around the beastkin brightened as the veins in his arm bulged. The shadows snapped and dissipated like sparks from a campfire.


    The wolf beastkin and Chieftain Franklines hands met, then Franklin was pushed back.


    He wasn''t forced to take a step back. No, the stone multi-ton badger was literally pushed back across the floor, his six-inch hind claws digging furrows.


    Franklin wasn''t the only one. The other badgers attacking the ring of beastkin were having even less success, as they didn''t have Kanieta on their back helping.


    The badgers covered in stone were being overwhelmed by raw physical power.


    My mind had trouble accepting that fact, but it didn''t stop my body from acting. I knew what I had to do, and it looked like I was the only one able to do it.


    Skirting past the stone badger, I used his two-legged stance to keep me hidden as long as possible.


    When I came around his side and saw the beastkin, I pulled myself forward with a tendril while bringing a brick as large as my chest around and up into his chin.


    I held up an arm to block the slivers of the broken stone thrown in my direction as I continued moving. When the dust cleared, I saw that there was no wound on his body, but his eyes did look a little glazed over as he lowered his head, shaking it.


    By the time his head twitched to look at me and I felt his gaze, I had already moved under his arms and past him, looking at the second line of beastkin.


    When I saw my target, my mental energy was already focused into a single tendril, ready to drive forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.


    Even the beastkin, as fast as he was, didn''t have the time to react. The tip of my tendril covered the distance between us in a flash and drove my belt knife into his throat to the hilt before twisting it.


    The beastkin dropped to his knees, clutching at the half of his throat that was now torn flesh. Try as he might, his lifeblood sipped through his fingers.


    Burning through my mental energy, I coved the distance between us in a couple steps.


    Whipping my tendril to the side, I threw the knife at one of the beastkin, moving to intercept me, forcing him to slow down a moment to deflect the blade. It was all I needed, as the other had taken a beat too long to react to my appearance.


    Derg turned to look at me, a look of scorn on his face.


    "You know, I thought you looked like a giant muscle with no brains." I said with my best smile, "I was right."


    Shock covered the beastkin''s face as my tendril drove into his chest. Before it had entered more than a few inches, I felt the massive blood crystal in the beastkin''s chest and broke it in half as my tendril pierced it.


    Surprised by the crystal''s size and density, part of my energy was carried along with the backlash as it destabilized and released part of its contained energy into the controlling spell.


    "Hergh!" I grunted as information pressed on my mind. Before, my energy echoed around the network in the room. Now it traveled down the link connecting it to whoever was casting the spell.


    The world along the spell length revealed itself to me, miles upon miles of rolling hills and scattered groves and farmland. Then I felt the caster.


    And all the sacrifices that powered the spell.

 B2 Chapter 22

    Kanieta was three steps behind Green, but they were such long steps. It might as well have been a mile away for all the good it did her.


    When Green slipped under and past Franklin and then the Crescent Moon Chieftain, it had taken her completely by surprise. She assumed he would help, his life was in danger as much as theirs, and he was the one who said Derg was controlling the golems.


    She just didn''t expect him to run right into the center of a mass of enemies like a fucking idiot. She thought he was smarter than a badger. Kanieta knew it was a low standard, but¡­ This is what I get for putting too much faith in him.


    His quick removal of one of the chieftains and slipping past the second ring only slightly razed her opinion of him from the depths that it had fallen to. After all, she might not like Derg, but she respected his skill in battle.


    Green was not a paragon of martial strength for the Olimpians. He might have some tricks, but tricks didn''t matter when a hand was clamped around your throat.


    As she became certain of Green''s death, Derg''s chest was ripped open, revealing a massive red crystal. Before she could get a clear view, his body exploded into chunks of flesh. What the¡­ Forcing her mind away from what just happened, she kept moving.


    But even as she moved, Green lurched to a stop and started swaying in place without any apparent concern for what was around him. He couldn''t be a better target if he hung a brightly colored sign around his neck.


    And she was three steps back, with only enough mana to launch a few minor spells.


    It was only a matter of minutes since the first golem fell, but she had used dozens of spells during that time, and even with the support of the world''s energy, draining her mana pool took a toll.


    Even as a cold certainty of Green''s death settled into her mind, she saw the two wolfkins before her stumble the instant after Derg''s body exploded. A moment later, she felt a ripple running through the ambient mana.


    They had their mana linked? Kanieta thought in surprise. Makes sense, but now they''re mine.


    A vengeful smile spread over Kanieta''s face. It was a well know weakness of linking mana. Should the core of the network be broken for any reason, the backlash will momentarily incapacitate the links. But the power gained as they pull mana from those nearby was usually well worth the risk.


    After all, even if a Kin has a small mana pool that they have never used, it will still regenerate at near, and sometimes faster, than the mages themselves. It was a massive advantage in a protracted battle because only the lower circle spells could even be cast by the power a mage held within their pool. Casting higher circle spells will take a steady stream of energy for a long time for the magic to come to completion. Not to mention that being linked allowed a mage to quickly and easily buff a regular warrior beyond what they were typically capable of.


    Surging forward, Kanieta let her mana boil out of her arms. Instead of allowing the mana to go, she grabbed hold and formed it into oversized Shadow Claws. The channeled spell was only as strong as her willpower, but it would also last as long as she could hold it in place.


    As she reached the closest wolfkin, she swung her right arm low and knocked out his leg while slicing deeply into his calf. She continued swinging the leg up, knocking the young chieftain off balance.


    Planting her left foot, Kanieta retracted her claws from his leg as she pivoted around. Gathering all the force she could muster, she brought down her left hand''s Shadow Claws onto the warrior''s throat.


    Kanieta felt flesh and cartilage give way until she reached the spine. Curling her fingers as she tore out her hand, she made a wide gaping gash out of the wound and left the kin to die, choking on his blood as she turned away.


    Even before she was looking toward the other kin, Kanieta was moving. She didn''t have much time before the other wolfkin recove¡ª


    Kanieta''s heart skipped a beat when she saw her next target. He wasn''t where she last saw him. Apparently, this one wasn''t as affected by the loss of the link, and in the half second it took her to kill the first, he had recovered and was moving on Green again with a look of hatred.


    Though he was slowed, his arm was already pulled back, glowing blue from the enhancement spell he was channeling.


    Dumping most of her mana into her movement focus, even pulling the mana from one of her Shadow Claws, Kanieta streaking forward as she slipped through the shadows, arm stretched out.


    The next thing she knew, her shoulder bucked as she felt more than heard a thump, and her movement was wrenched to a stop, "Ahh!" Kanieta yipped in pain as it felt like her arm had smashed through a stone wall.


    Slowly, Kanieta looked up, finding the warrior whose chest her arm was buried up to her bicep within. The wolfkin was already looking to the side at her, his face twisted in pain. In a last show of defiance, he barred his teeth at her, but Kanieta knew she was piercing his heart and he was already dead. Snarling right back at him, she brought up her left arm to shove him off her, releasing a flood of blood onto her feet.


    With a wet squelch, the body crumpled to the ground. There were some twitches in his arm and head as if he was trying to get up and fight, but whatever strength was hiding within his body quickly left with his lifeblood.


    Right arm hanging limply at her side, Kanieta emptied her core again and pushed her mana into her left arm, making Shadow Claws again.


    But as she turned, she quickly dropped the mana manipulation.


    On every side, stone badgers were tearing into what was left of the defenders. Most of whom were already in multiple pieces and were having their bodies smashed into a crimson pulp as the badgers rolled around in the gore.


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    Scouring the platform, Kaneita frantically searched for Green, as he was no longer where she last saw him. Seconds passed as she continued to find nothing. Her mind was caught up in the fact that he should be practically at her feet and couldn''t move past it. I might be more tired than I think.


    With a flash of realization, Kanieta knew that the wolfkin must have released his mana as she struck him, forming a shockwave that threw Green around like a ragdoll.


    Her breathing hitched as her eyes settled on his body. She should have noticed it sooner. He was one of the few bodies still whole. Kanieta''s only excuse was her mind was clouded by fatigue and pain. It also didn''t help that Green was on the edge of the platform, nowhere near where she last saw him.


    Ignoring the defiling around her, Kanieta moved to rush over to Green.


    Before she could take more than a step, wet splats filled the room, and she felt something hit her cheek. She reached up to wipe the mess from her face but froze as she looked into the chamber.


    Golems were falling.


    It was like watching oversized red raindrops. And when they hit, pieces of blood and flesh would fly out around them, like rain hitting a lake.


    At first, it was only a couple, then a momentary shadow fell over the room, and within seconds, so many golems were falling to the ground that Kanieta couldn''t see the chamber walls. The sound was so loud that it nearly swallowed up the screams of those they were falling on, but there weren''t as many screams as Kanieta would think.


    When they finally stopped falling, lasting a whole four seconds, Kanieta still couldn''t see the edge of the chamber. The difference this time was she half thought she was in the stomach of some massive beast because the chamber walls were coated in a layer of throbbing flesh.


    Then the light filling the camber started to slip away, and the sun moved beyond its zenith.


    But the light had shown more than enough. For out in the sea of flesh filling the room, the light revealed sections shivering as the meat began pulling itself together.


    Breaking herself out of her trance, Kanieta stumbled forward, grabbed hold of Greens armor, then pulled him back to the center of the platform.


    "Form up, laddies and laddets!" Shouted Barlot, the badger Faction Leader. "It''s time we got serious."


    When he said the last part, the badgers, who were somewhere between shedding their stone armor to cover their bodies with the blood of the Crescent Moon Faction and coving their stone armor in blood, looked up.


    Their faces set into hard lines, and their stone armor either reformed around them, covering all but their heads, or retreated until their heads were showing.


    "Good," Remarked the Blood Claw Faction Leader, "We are holding this platform. Whoever falls first will be out of contention for our next battlefield cleanup." The badgers, too a one, recoiled back like their leader had just pronounced he would kill the families of them all while they watched helplessly.


    Some of the badgers were cowering with their stone paws over their heads or begging for forgiveness like they had angered a god. ¡­What?


    Kanieta''s mind broke a little at the thoughts and images that started flowing through it at the comment, and she promptly started ignoring the rest of the old badger¡¯s ¡®encouragement speech.'' Sane mortal minds were not meant to hear what he spoke of.


    Like most of the People, Kanieta practiced the healthy custom of learning and involving herself as little as possible with the badgers. Legends were just fine with her, thank you very much.


    Cleaning up a battle was a necessary task, but one few enjoyed or volunteered for. There''s only one definition for battlefield cleanup, right? Kanieta thought, questioning her education. Yeah, it has to be the same thing¡­ vigorously shaking her head, Kaneita expelled the stories she knew of why the badgers thought battlefield cleanup was such a welcome task and looked down at Green, inspecting him.


    His head had a knot that was trying its best to grow as big as Kanieta''s fist, and some scrapes were covering his body, but otherwise, he was fine. Nothing that would be serious enough to kill within the next few minutes.


    Which was all any of them could ask for, as things were looking grim. Healers should be able to help anyone who lived through this. But the squelching sounds and how the ground seemed to be moving pointed to that not being a likely outcome.


    "Is he alive?" The sudden voice to her side caused Kanieta to let out a yelp and hope spin around, arms raising to throw out a punch. "Little jumpy?" Lurta asked with a raised eyebrow.


    "Ahh," Kanieta sighed, chagrined at her reaction and moving her hand to scratch the side of her head. "It''s been a long day."


    "Yes, it has," Lurta said agreeably, but Kanieta could hear the amusement in her voice, "and it''s not going to end anytime soon."


    Looking around, Kanieta was surprised by the number of people trailing behind Lurta. It had to be most of those who were around the door. She even saw some rats from the Dark Haven Faction within those gathered, their hands burning with fire to match the one in their eyes. Seeing one fight was rare, as they weren''t known for their fighting abilities but their smith work.


    Kanieta thought she would be surprised, but she wasn''t. When the badgers'' called Derg and his followers betrayers, releasing their magic, she was filled with an overwhelming need. A need to remove a blight feeding upon their people. It was her duty to act, so she did.


    It seemed it had a similar effect on everyone else touched by the wave to some degree.


    Which turned out to be a good thing, as it saved the lives of many who would be smashed by the falling golems.


    Few were paying attention to her, and those only gave her a glancing look before turning away. The rest of the Chieftains and Faction Leaders were now taking up positions behind the badgers, looking into the room''s darkness with wary expressions bordering on fear. But every one of them was ready to fight.


    Taking another moment to check over Green and seeing that nothing had changed, Kanieta took a deep breath and got to her feet.


    It only took her a second to find Franklin, as while all the stone badgers were similar, there were distinct differences if one took the time to notice. Franklin''s stone badger had particularly sharp fur, almost like mini spears.


    Before she could shuffle into place behind Franklin, a tendril lashed out of the darkness, reaching for the badger. With a snap of his jaws, the flesh appendage was severed, but it was only the first.


    Soon dozens, then hundreds of tendrils were reaching for the badgers in every direction.


    Franklin''s front legs were wrapped in tendrils until the stone was no longer visible. His body dropped with a crack as Franklin hunkered down, and the tendrils couldn''t move him in the slightest.


    Gathering what mana she had recovered, Kanieta lashed out with a Shadow Blade, slicing through enough of the tendrils to free one of his arms, allowing Chieftain Franklin to lash out with his claws to cut the rest of the tendrils.


    Time passed as they resisted the flood of flesh, and Kaneita saw spell after spell cast. Some ripped the water from the blood golems, leaving husks, and others burned them to ash. Stone spears flew out whenever a crystal was spotted, shattering it and providing some level of relief for the front line for a moment.


    The attacks of the golems weren''t coordinated, but there was never an end. Tendrils were always coming out of the darkness, and the creeping flesh on the ground needed to be burned back.


    Kanieta had passed into a haze at some point as she cast one spell after another the moment she gathered enough mana. She felt hollowed out like a pumpkin with all its guts ripped out, and she could hardly keep herself standing.


    And even when she felt and saw the room shake and a wave of cleansing fire sweep around the chamber, all she did was slightly turn her head, seeing her warriors pouring in through the broken wall.


    Finally, Kanieta thought, before sinking to the ground, I''m taking a nap.

 Chapter 23

    The air was filled with smoke giving the morning light a murky tint. Few areas were so dominated by the choking plumes that you couldn''t see through them, but every breath had the char of a campfire scraping at your throat.


    And every dozen breaths, you would get a powerful blast blown in your face, filling your nose with the scents of charred wood and burning flesh. What more could you expect of a battle inside a fort?


    You would expect there not to be any burning wood inside a proper legion fort, that''s what. But the beastkin''s ¡ª or the Kin ¡ª didn''t have the same standards.


    The assault on the Western Fort of the Triad had gone off without a hitch. Really, it was a textbook example of how to assault a fortified position.


    Legionaries marched up to the walls stopping a mile out, and they got into formation. Four cohorts of the 4th Senatorial Guard spread their centuries out around the rest of the legions, forming a perimeter to prevent a flanking attack and start work on earthworks. Then five cohorts of the 5th Senatorial Guard formed up into blocks and started marching towards the walls, with the rest of the legions standing in reserve.


    At the same time, the 3rd Senatorial Guard started their advance down the causeway of the middle fort, going to both the Northern and Western Forts.


    Those sent to assault the Northern fort were quickly beaten back, as a literal wall of fire sprang to life and washed down the bridge. The assault on the Western Fort went much better, as the defenders didn''t realize an attack had started until the leading century was nearly knocking on the gate with their battering ram. And even when they did start fighting back, it was little more than a few rocks and a spattering of arrows. Attacks that were blocked with little difficulty.


    On the outer wall of the Western Fort, the situation was much the same, if for different reasons. While the legions were noticed well before reaching the base of the wall and defenders were on the battlements waiting, they could do nothing.


    Any large bolder that was thrown was guided away from the approaching cohorts to impact the soil in a spray. The arrows and boiling liquid ¡ª once they got to the base of the wall ¡ª were blocked by the compressed earthen shield hovering above the century, thanks to the Knight''s Terra in their midst.


    Without another knight to resist their castings, half the centuries started reshaping the walls to make tunnels, and the others reshaped the walls to make stairs and an overhang to shelter under.


    It took an hour for the five cohorts to break through the outer walls and half that for the gatehouse leading to the Middle Fort. Within another hour, they had driven out or killed the beastkin within the walls, but not before what seemed like every wooden structure the beastkins built inside the Western Fort was set ablaze. There were a lot of wood structures.


    Panta was somewhat amazed at how much was burning. Very few wooden structures were placed inside the standard legion fort for this exact reason. Once a fire started, it did what it wanted, and the beastkin supplied plenty of fuel for the fire to jump to in the month of occupation.


    With a smug and self-important air, Legatus Numok Hellieous watched the battle play out from an observation post on top of one of the towers of the Middle Fort. Panta was next to him, so he knew the man was smug. He didn''t even try hiding his emotions.


    Panta''s new Tribune Latic, though that position was never really under the command of a Legatus, was even worse. She was over on another tower, and the words along the vein of a ''party'' were the only things that came to mind when looking at them.


    A tent had been put up, and tables were placed at the edge of the battlements to ''observe the festivities'' when they weren''t snacking or sipping on wine. Most of those there were the hangers-on that came with the girl, but some of the more affluent merchants and local nobles had somehow managed to worm into the gathering.


    But a meeting of social flies meant little to Panta. The battle was moving into a new stage, and things were about to get a whole lot more challenging.


    While there was nothing Panta could say regarding the Senatorial Guards'' actions, there was much he could comment on regarding the beastkin''s.


    No spells ¡ª I am fairly certain that is the proper word ¡ª were used. From the reports Panta had received, that was to be expected. While the Kin Faction in the Western Fort had used spells, they were nowhere near as effective as the spells spotted in the Northern Fort.


    What they did have were plenty of the beastkin who were analogous to the Knights. But if there were any of those in the fort, no one had reported it yet.


    Panta highly doubted anyone would. No, the Western Fort was nothing more than a stalling tactic.


    The birds in the sky made it clear that the beastkin were watching, yet not a single warrior came over their bridge or tried to flank the Senatorial Guard while they were deploying in the field.


    Even the newest tactician could tell that the beastkin had the advantage in the open while the legionaries ruled narrow corridors.


    But while the Guard slashed, hacked, and stabbed their way through the streets of the fort, all the beastkin did was throw themselves against the legion shields and onto their spears. There was no leadership.


    These Kin were watching them. Learning how the legion operated while assaulting a fort while using a fortress they never intended to hold. It was a brutal but effective tactic. One Panta could appreciate.


    They obviously had some knowledge of Olimapns and might even have books or prisoners that described legion siege doctrine. However, there was a significant difference between reading about a phalanx in a book and seeing it in action.


    They have seen us defend and now seen us attack, while we have never seen what their proper defenses look like. Panta thought before coming to a conclusion. The Kin have the advantage, and we are walking into a trap.


    "I advise you to proceed with caution," Panta said again, breaking the silence that had settled over their tower for the last hour. The other Legatus had barely listened to a word of caution since the attack started.


    Panta would admit the way they sliced right through the beastkin wasn''t helping his credibility. So he was ignored while they waited and only not asked to leave because it was, after all, his fortress.


    Even with their near-instant communication, it took time for the centuries to organize into cohorts and gather with their legion, especially with the fire raging. Some places required Knight''s Terra to smother the flames and clear a proper path.


    Hours had passed since the start of the attack, and now the 5th Senatorial Guard was reinforcing the walls of the West Fort. The 3rd and 4th were going to launch simultaneous assaults across the bridges ¡ª the one from the Middle Fort and the one the beastkin made ¡ª while Knights tried to sneak up to the walls and undermine them. An action Hellieous grudgingly acquiesced to when Panta suggested it.


    Though Panta got the feeling it was more so he could blame Panta for unnecessary damage to the fort with his ''easy victory.''


    "We should cross the Twins to the east before sweeping west to envelop the Norther Fort in a siege." Panta continued suggesting caution after his first comment was ignored.


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    "I know you lack the metal for a real battle," said Hellious, "But if were are ever going to win glory, a legion must never shy away from a frontal assault."


    Panta processed the idiocy for a moment, then moved past it. That route only led to discord. "You must see there is more to this beastkin" ¡ª it wasn''t the time for the semantics of their name to be brought up ¡ª "than you have seen. Look at the Northern Fort. We cannot see over the walls due to the haze."


    Hellieous waved dismissively and spoke like he was explaining war to a child, "My tribunes assure me that it is a simple trick. Create a hot enough pocket of air, and the air will start to warp. The same will happen if you heat the ground. If one guides it properly, it is possible to create such an effect. As soon as a Knight Ventus gets close, they will dissipate the casting."


    Moving past the argument of the absurd levels of psy that would take, Panta decided to go right for the heart. "So you admit they have mental powers, and caution is advised?"


    Hellieous paused briefly, caught off guard, "I will admit there is something different about these beasts. Perhaps they are the result of some abominable interbreeding of Olimpians and beasts, as they do appear more human than expected. I commend their ingenuity, but they will have a far lesser understanding of psy and its nuances. Accordingly, the beasts should pose little threat with their abilities."


    "What about the new bridge?"


    "Nothing but simple earth crafting," Legatus Hellieous said, sounding annoyed that Panta was still pressing the topic, "Now, if you excuse me, I have a battle to oversee."


    With that, he turned and moved to the northern side of the tower, motioning to his telepaths to themselves arrange around him.


    Panta heard light footsteps to his left but didn''t look over, "It''s going to be a slaughter," Prefect Quineeta stated. There was absolute certainty in her voice. "At least we won''t be the ones taking the brunt of the damage."


    Sighing, Panta slowly shook his head forlornly, "That''s the problem."


    "What?"


    "Us and them. We are supposed to be united, but if we aren''t fighting with each other, no one knows how to act. This is only the beginning of this war, and while the Senatorial Guard is a political tool used by the high nobles to score political points, they are also a legion of veterans that will be needed."


    ¡°¡­I agree, but there is no way around this." Quineeta stated after a moment of thought, "They will not listen without the proof of a mountain of bodies."


    "More''s the pity," Panta whispered in regret, then walked to the side to watch the battle. "Make sure our people are prepared for a counter-attack. Worst case, we sever the bridges."


    "It''s already done."


    "Good." With all the talking that was required done, they stood together and watched the battle unfold.


    Sun overhead, the First Cohort of the 3rd Senatorial Guard charged down the bridge to the Northern Fort, and the First Cohort of the 5th charged up the Lightning Bridge, as it came to be known.


    At first, nothing happened. But once the Cohort was halfway down the bridge, the constant blurring of colors above the middle of the gateway rippled.


    For an instant, a line of beastkin holding shields could be seen manning the battlements. From one second to the next, it was like Panta was standing next to a raging bonfire, and all he could hear was the sound of air crackling. It was like the snaps one heard as a tree in the center of a fire broke.


    Dozens of balls of fire shot from the battlements and crashed into the approaching Cohort. The compressed earth over them took the first few impacts, but it became evident as the cracks spread that the shield would break.


    Before the Knight could save the shield, a half dozen more fireballs hit the shield with roaring explosions, shattering it. Some of the balls of fire exploded in the air, blocked by legionary or Knight, but most crashed into the legionaries hiding below.


    Well seasoned as they were, the veterans were prepared for the earth shield to break, and the balls of fire struck their raised shields, reinforced with psy, and expanded along their length.


    Panta could see the fire licking along the raised legion shields and the telekinetic wall behind them. And he saw the moment that the wall collapsed, and the fire consumed them.


    Screams of agony filled the air as people were roasted alive. The balls of fire looked no bigger than a pumpkin, but they expanded to ten feet in diameter.


    As the smoke cleared from the bridge, the front Century of the Cohort was annihilated. If there were more than ten men living in that charred mess, Panta would be surprised and horrified. No one should have to live like that.


    Then another volley of fireballs came flying from the battlements, but this one was different. The color of the balls were blue, and there was less than half of the number of the last volley, and they were no larger than a fist. If that wasn''t ominous enough, they were also corkscrewing through the air.


    None of these ones were intercepted, and when they hit along the length of the bridge, there was a rapid series of deep thumps as the air was pushed back.


    Panta felt the blistering heat wave and shielded his face with his hands. When he finally removed them, the entire Cohort, over six hundred men, were gone.


    Only piles of ash remained along most of the bridge next to sections of rapidly cooling molten stone. Closest to the Middle Fort, there were at least a few twisted forms of skeletons with half-melted armor.


    *Crack boom~*


    The continuous sound of thunder made Panta''s head snap to the side, half expecting to see the maw of the lighting creature bearing down on them.


    But it was just the Lighting Bridge ¡ª aptly named ¡ª writhed in azure power, roasting those on it alive.


    "What in the Void was that!" Shouted Hellious, but no one around him could answer.


    Instead of seeking out an explanation from the ones who fought them before, he ordered more of his men forward. He''s a butcher.


    The losses this time weren''t as severe as before. Because only a couple centuries were put forward, and instead of fire, massive figures leaped over the sides of the bridge as the century passed.


    Driving into the side, the thirty or so burly forms swung massive clubs, knocking the legionaries to the sides like toys. Some of the flailing figures even went over the edges of the bridge.


    A squad of Knights tried to stop the beastkin, but their stone projectiles shattered against the beastkin''s flesh, and their fire had the same effect as it would when enveloping a stone.


    The next assault from the Middle Fort was met by stone spears. And living shadows the one after that.


    What was happening on the Lightning Bridge was too far away for Panta to make out, but it seemed as if they were having an even worse time from all the noise.


    And of the knights trying to sneak in? They suddenly vanished without a message. One moment, the telepaths were in contact. The next, the Knights were gone.


    One attack after another failed, and it had become evening, with them being no closer to capturing the Northern Fort than when they first started. The argument could be made that they were worse off, as the bridge now had chunks blown out of it and was pitted.


    When Panta was silently looking at the Northern Fort, and the latest assault was gathering their will to charge, the haze over the fortress dropped. An empty wall greeted them, and off in the distance, he could see streams of beastkin leaving the fort from its northern gate.


    Before anyone could react, a city that could hold tens of thousands appeared at the border of the Northern Forest. Then six fortresses, walls as tall as the Triad''s, appeared one after hemming in the Northern Fort of the Triad. In between the fortresses were roads and earthworks.


    Panta could not be sure, as his vision wasn''t the best, but he thought he saw figures moving on every fortification.


    Then the Lightning Bridge started sliding upriver like it was a wooden toy bridge a child could slide along a trickle of water at will.


    The absurdity of what just happened caused the Senatorial Guards to freeze up, only able to stare in horrified awe, leaving the perfect opening for Panta. Such events weren''t affecting him anymore, as they were getting old.


    "Now that we have regained control of the Triad, all thanks to your efforts," Panta said, "Your authority is over. As the Guardian of the Northern Line, I invite the Senatorial Guard to remain stationed at the Triad until relief legions arrive."


    No one said a word.


    "This was my operation! You held no authority here!" Spluttered the bedraggled Hellieous.


    "You are right," Answered Panta calmly, causing Hellieous to smile in victory before Panta kept talking and smashed his flaring arrogance. "but the restoration of the Triad grants me my full authority again. And during the time of a beastwave, I have full control over every legion within the Northern Center Province. I will hold a staff meeting in the Control Center in an hour. You will be there."


    With that, Panta turned and started walking away.

 B2 Chapter 24

    This was annoying.


    What she was doing was important and necessary. Kathren knew that. Whispered that to herself many times over the last day.


    But no matter how often she thought it, the embers of irritation remained within Kathren''s gut. She spent her decade of service ¡ª which, no matter what people said, not everyone did, especially in the slums. Not signing up just meant you never left them. ¡ª and then she became a scout to entirely escape her past, never looking back.


    Kathren had no family that would help her, no family outside of those she chose or made, and she hadn''t done either of those yet. Leaving her to face the stark reality that no one would feed her if she decided to sit on her ass. No, she made the choice a decade ago that she would work for her keep.


    She had enough of begging for handouts as a child. Or pickpocketing and stealing when she didn''t get enough money to survive.


    When she was finally able to join the legion, she discovered some things.


    The work was hard. No, the work was grueling. It puts you in situations where death or severe injury is likely. And to survive, you had to kill and suffer.


    But you had a purpose.


    You knew that while some days all you did was lounge around, you earned your coin and far more when you were called upon. While everyone else wailed about the unjustness of their life, she stood between them and destruction. She actually made a difference, small as it was.


    Such meaning called to her. And she never had to wonder where or if she would get her next meal. Where her coin came from. Or who.


    So she joined the scouts to get more ale money and further distance herself from her origins.


    "Can you spare a copper?" Kathren begged in her long disused feeble voice, holding out cupped hands to the passersby.


    They ignored her, much to her irritation and pleasure. On the one hand, she had bathed in shit and mud before scraping it off, letting it dry, and doing it again. And did the same to a burlap sack that could be generously called a dress before putting it on.


    Kathren didn''t really understand when she was young, but an older girl took her aside one day and taught her how to look ''undesirable.'' Kathren only stayed around because of the half-dead look in the young woman''s eyes and the intensity of her emotions when she flatly said, "You learn this now, or I''ll save you the pain of learning the hard way and slit your throat."


    When it was put that way, she decided to stay and learn. But now she understood. The young woman''s mind might have been broken from suffering no one should have to endure, but she meant well. More than most Kathren had met while in the slums.


    And now, that lesson was coming in handy.


    Some more bags that resembled shoes and a shawl that was more hole than thread, and Kathren was right back where she would be if she had never left the streets.


    Which was great because that was her whole assignment. While the battle to retake the Triad raged, she was in the slums on a special mission to be covered in shit.


    In comparison, her team had a simplistic mission of walking up and down a river''s bank¡­ Okay, Kathren really didn''t know what their mission was. But! It would be hard to believe it was worse than hers.


    A day had passed since the legions "retook" the Triad.


    And since then, rumors of how the beastkins wanted peace with us have started circulating. With the disaster that the last two battles were ¡ª even if we technically won the last one ¡ª it was like the civilians were drowning, and now a life-saving hand was reaching out to them. Though there were a vocal few who only saw an enemy so hated they would rather stab a knife in their chest rather than accept help.


    The topic was creating tension, but it was far less than fearing a lightning monster was about to fall on their head every time a cloud was spotted.


    If the beastkin willingly handing over the Northern Fort wasn''t a sign that they wanted peace, she didn''t know what was. From what she had heard, if the beastkin desired to hold the fort, it would still be in their claws.


    At least, that was the atmosphere in the middle and upper districts of South Town. In the slums, Kathren had never seen a place so tense. Everyone''s head was down while throwing sidelong glances at anyone approaching them.


    Even those who had been walking next to each other for a while would jump if anyone around them made a sudden movement. Hands never strayed too far from bulges in clothes that looked suspiciously like weapons.


    With the sun setting, Kathren clambered to her feet, making a show of getting up. Then she started hobbling down the street with the help of a cane.


    Looking weak was a mortal sin in the slums.


    But looking weak, smelling bad, and appearing like your most valuable item was your dress which looked suspiciously like the rags in the gutter, made you no different than one of the other helpless wretches in every alley.


    Wretches those people may be, but no one could deny they were survivors. Survivors who were crazy, and would do anything to survive when pressed.


    People don''t mess with crazy, especially in the slums. It was asking to get hurt. And getting hurt makes you look and actually become weaker. And weakness was death.


    So that was what Kathren was hoping to appear as. She was confident in pulling it off too.


    Sure, anyone could cover themselves in grime and a rag and pretend to belong in the slums, but it wasn''t about that. It was about attitude.


    It was having a submissive deference to all who are stronger while having a steely resolve underneath. Honor and pride mean nothing, and you are willing to do and endure anything, but should you be presented with an opening, or there is no longer a chance at life, you will maule your way to one.


    Kathren''s situation wasn''t great, but it was okay. She had no reputation, so no one should be blatantly hostile, but no one would fear her either. And fear did a lot more around these parts than anything else.


    With how tense everyone was, you never knew exactly what people would do, so she always had to be on guard.


    The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Slowly, Kathren started working her way deeper into the slums. She noted the watchers lounging in their alleys or on street corners and the different gang signs that were carved or painted onto walls. She didn''t know the attitudes of each group yet, but it didn''t hurt to know their territory before she learned.


    It took some complicated routes, but she was able to thread her way around the boundaries of the gangs, as most had their borders along one street or another.


    She went deeper than yesterday, but it was hardly past what would be considered the edge of the slums. Going deeper without being known would be dangerous. Not having more information would be deadly.


    Finding the alley she had noted before, Kathren slipped into its dark entrance. She passed down its length, seeing only a few shadowy outlines of other figures on the ground.


    Slipping around them, she moved to the right at the ever of the firelight illuminating the street, then dropped to the ground and curled up into a ball.


    Just around the corner from her, under one of the few lamps in the slums, were four figures.


    They served as a combination of muscle, an early warning, and gatekeepers for some territory or another.


    But most of all, they were teenagers who didn''t know when it was in their best interest to shut the fuck up. Seeing as there was an attractive young woman in their midst, Kathren assumed that sooner or later, one of them would bring up what no one was talking about, just to prove how manly he was.


    It should give her an idea of where the dark elves were.


    This isn''t scout work, Kathren grumbled as she settled down for a long night, getting occasional whiffs of the shit smeared in her hair.


    **********


    "Why are we out here?" Whine asked Jankens for the fifth time in an hour.


    "Shut up!" Snapped Opito Lun, the second ¡ª but really first ¡ª in command of their Century, though they weren''t really a Century either. Then he said much softer, "This area doesn''t feel right."


    Leeroy had to agree. The forest they were passing through had an oppressive feel to it. And it felt like something was watching them¡­ but those were thoughts for superiors.


    "I told you he wouldn''t answer," Leeroy said, making a grabby motion with his hand, into which Jankens flipped a silver. "Nice do''en business with cha." He chuckled while slipping the coin into his pouch.


    "He answered the other times¡­" Jankens grumbled. Then he looked around, "What do you think is going on?"


    "Someone dismissed our message as no big deal and never reported it. Happens all the time," Leeroy confidently stated. "Nothing to be worried over."


    "Then where have our supplies for the last few weeks and other messengers gone?"


    "Bandits."


    "I don''t know¡­" Jankens said, unconvinced, "You hear about bandits attacking legion convoys, but I''ve never met anyone who has seen it. And it never happens multiple times in a row."


    Jankens was making sense, and in truth, Leeroy had thought of these vary same arguments to his answers. However, he was choosing to believe that if he ignored them long enough, the answers would change.


    Not that it mattered one way or another. He couldn''t change a void-forsaken thing, legion grunt that he was.


    "You worry too much," Leeroy stated, "We will have a nice and uneventful trip to Basetown, then we will get our supplies and reinforcements, no doubt already prepared to join us, then march back to the forts. Actually, we are lucky. We get to miss some of the beastkin attacks at the cost of a little walking."


    Some of the other legionaries around the pair turned their heads slightly, listening in, and started nodding along with Leeroy.


    "Yahh," Jankens sighed more than said in embarrassment while rubbing the back of his head. "I guess there is nothing to w¡ª


    Leeroy''s head snapped to the left side of the trail and then rolled to the right.


    The hum in the back of his mind had turned into war drums, blocking out nearly everything else.


    At Leeroy''s movement, everyone around him snapped their shields up and reached for their gladius or javelins. A murmur ran through the Century, and soon the Opito was turning. A look of fear hidden deep in his eyes was rising up to the surface but not showing on his face.


    The forest was the same as it had been for the past couple of days of travel. There was no difference perceptible by sound, smell, or sight, but Leeroy knew.


    "Right," Leeroy whispered, already turning. He reached out with his free hand, grabbing hold of Jankens'' arm and pulling him out of the formation. It was a good thing he decided to stand at the side of the collum that morning, as he could slip right out.


    "Leeroy! Jankens~!" roared their Opito, "Get your asses back in formation, or I will skin you alive!"


    "Ambush!" Shouted Leeroy, not looking back, "Charge right if you want to live!"


    There was nothing for an instant. It was an instant of a man half your size suddenly standing up and slapping you in the face. It didn''t hurt, not really, but the shock of the experience left you momentarily stunned. Then you got your shit together and punched that little, but ballzy, man in the face laying him out.


    The Opito was in command of them all. It wasn''t an entire century that their commanding Tribune sent out, as after the recent battle, they only numbered forty. And the way things were looking, their 4th Cohort of the 14th Legion couldn''t afford to send out a whole Century. Which was a pretty bad sign, all things considered.


    And even if they were a full century, they didn''t even have a Centurion, as he was killed a week ago, along with their old Opito.


    Which forced Guard Commander Lun to become Opito Lun, a promotion everyone knew he wasn''t ready for, even him.


    That unfortunate day, and a few more days before and since, the Century was only saved because of one reason.


    Leeroy''s supernatural nose for danger and instinct to know when to charge. It was an undeniable fact that if they shut up and just followed after Leeroy, everything would work out just fine.


    As one, everyone standing on the road stampeded after him, quickly catching up thanks to the stumbling Jankens slowing Leeroy down. Those behind quickly formed into an arrowhead, with Leeroy at its head.


    Leeroy took his first step into the tree line when the arrows started flying from up the road. Grunts of pain sounded behind him, and he could feel the loss of minds from the newly established Union, but he kept his eyes ahead and shield up.


    Foot planting into a hole hidden by the grass, Leeroy stumbled. The change in position shifted his shield, and the edge of his shield deflected an up arrow that would have struck him in the throat.


    Quickly getting his feet back under him, he changed directions slightly by shifting to the left. A javelin flew by his head with a whistle a moment later as someone spotted the archer crouched behind a tree. Leeroy got a good look at the archer as they passed and was surprised to see what looked like a dark-skinned elf, though he couldn''t be sure from the scarf and hood the figure was wearing.


    More arrows came flying from between the trees, but few were injured now, as the section of legionaries had shifted their shield to block their left flank, where most of the arrows were coming from.


    "We need to get back to the Forts and warn them!" Shouted Lun mentally and vocally.


    Leeroy looked to the right, back the way they had come, then turned forty-five degrees left, "This way!"


    Seconds later, more arrows came from their right flank, claiming the lives of the unprotected legionaries.


    Lun shut up at that moment as it became clear to all that they were surrounded.


    A grim resignation started to fill the Union, but any commands to turn and fight never came. Because while no one else could see a way out of this, Leeroy''s mind burned with absolute conviction.


    They had a chance. It was small, and there would be many deaths, but some would escape.


    So they ran, weathering the arrows that pelted them from all sides. Then all at once, the arrows stopped before sporadic arrows once more started coming from their rear.


    After a dozen more feet, the press of the trees forced the legionaries to break their formation and become more of an off-centered line. But still, no one moved to get ahead of Leeroy.


    Leeroy often changed directions seemingly at random, but the legionaries found themselves running through clearings or small trails, allowing easy passage.


    But as the forced jog wore on, psy was used up, and wills began to falter. Those only thirty feet from the back of what had become a column found arrows sticking out of them within a moment, confirming their pursuers were still hounding them.


    Many started stripping their weapons, shield, and armor as they ran, as speed and endurance became their only chance for life.


    Minutes passed into what must have been an hour, and they arrived at the cliffs that made up the southern banks of the Twins. Without hesitation, Leeroy dashed for the edge and threw himself into the air.


    The twenty that were left and still following behind him only paused for a moment of hesitation before an arrow skipped over the rocky ground between their feet, pushing them to follow.


    "Elementals, damn you, Leeroy!" Hollered Opito Lun as he fell through the air.

 B2 Chapter 25

    "Then where are they," Kanieta asked carefully, but it came out as more of a statement as she struggled not to let her rage explode into a rant about incompetence, even if logically, she knew that wasn''t true, to the messenger.


    "I can only guess, Faction Leader." The foxkin said, not daring to look her in the eyes lest it be taken as a challenge.


    The last day had been frantic, to say the least. After she snapped awake from exhaustion hours after passing out from fighting the blood golems, she demanded a report about the fighting with the Olimpians.


    It turned out the wolves had more of a token force inside the Western Fort than she thought they had. And their warbands didn''t even attempt to envelop and smash the legions against the walls when the legions assaulted them.


    After they wrapped up the wolves, the Olimpians advanced over the bridges and ground to a halt. On the one hand, it was a testament to her faction''s power, but it said little positive about their potential allies.


    The Olimpians were hardly keeping up a strong enough assault to overcome the rate at which her mages replenished mana and remade trap spells. And there was only one failed attempt to sneak around the fortifications.


    If things had remained the same, they could have held the fort indefinitely, but that was no longer an option.


    Kanieta immediately ordered a retreat and wrote out an outline of the situation to be copied and delivered to all of her warchiefs. The message came down to ''watch our backs for signs of the traitors attacking because Derg is still alive.''


    It turned out that only she and Green saw Derg''s blood golem body. So she didn''t go into detail about how he was still alive or how she knew, only saying that the figure they saw was a puppet. Her conviction and the lack of a body were the only reasons people went along with her, though she knew many didn''t actually believe yet. But they would soon enough.


    Then she sent out a scouting squad across the Rush to survey the crescent moon''s camp in the Northern Forest.


    In the meantime, Kanieta had moved from her Faction Hall within Forests Edge, which she had woken up in, back to the center platform of the Great Hall.


    Meeting her messengers after they walked through the destruction and bodies was quite the statement. It also would spread roomers of exactly what was done and stir up anger among the common people.


    "Don''t ya fecking touch that!" Threatened a badger to someone actually trying to help, "I wanna save it to age properly!"


    And then there were the badgers. They had decided to volunteer for Battlefield clean up.


    Kanieta was wrong. Their definition of battlefield cleanup had very little to do with actually cleaning up. At least so far, as she could only assume they planned to eventually eat everything.


    They bounded through the bodies of blood golems, picking out pieces they wanted and then hoarding them in different sections of the room.


    Kanieta arrived when they started stealing from each other''s piles of ''goodies.''


    She assigned people to actually start gathering up the meat and blood and burning it, but they ran into problems. Namely, different snarling badgers claiming they suddenly wanted something from that pile, which, as far as everyone else was concerned, was an unrecognizable pile of flesh and fat. But before the badger could say much else, they started snarling and roaring in rage as another badger stole something from their hoard and immediately moved to intercept and fight the other badger.


    Kanieta paid enough attention to realize there was some set of rules to what was happening, but she didn''t feel like killing a portion of her brain in trying to figure out what they were.


    When someone pointed out that what they were doing was cannibalism, they responded, confused as to why you even brought up the subject, "There''s no dead badgers in here. Would have smelled them."


    No one really had an answer to that, and they gave up on their futile attempt to rationalize with the creatures.


    The mess was being cleaned up, but slower than anyone would have liked, not just because of the smell either. There was so much blood mana filling the area that natural blood crystals were forming. Or there were destroyed ones that were reforming.


    Regardless, the badgers were a hindrance to everyone trying to clean, but Kanieta wasn''t concerned because it was quite the backdrop to her orders, and she had bigger problems.


    One such bigger problem was controlling her growing anger. Not at the messenger, though he was the only focal point at the moment.


    "Are you telling me that the entire camp of the crescent moon up and vanished?" Kanieta ground out.


    The messenger shrugged as if he was helpless. "There are signs of habitation as little as a day ago, but it was only in the hundreds. Their numbers have steadily been decreasing for weeks, as far as we can tell. We asked around Forests Edge, and a few mentioned that they thought more wolfkins were around than usual, but that was all. They only thought to mention it now because of the badgers making them traitors."


    "They have been planning this for a while," Kanieta stated.


    "That is the conclusion we came to as well." Agreed the scout, trying to be as helpful as possible and not be punished.


    "Do you really have no idea where they could have gone," Kanieta pressed.


    The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    The scout looked conflicted, but he finally said, "We are reasonably confident that the majority didn''t go South or West, though we know some warbands went in those directions."


    "What are they doing?" Kanieta asked, but no one could answer. Finally, she waved her hand to the scout, who looked relieved, "Go. Keep looking for any signs of where they went."


    "Faction Leader." Said the scout with a dip of his head before moving away.


    After a moment, Kanieta turned and looked at the others sitting on the center platform, "What are your thoughts."


    "He never thought he would fail," said the motherly Karlonu of the White Paw faction. Her voice was tired, but one could feel an unflinching resolve just beneath the surface.


    Only six of the ten factions represented a day ago still had a Faction Leader to meet in the Conclave. And two of those were temporary ones that the Chieftains agreed to give power for the sole purpose of officially removing the crescent moon as a faction of the Conclave.


    The Dark Haven, Twin Horn, and Shimmer Scale Faction Leaders died. So did one of the Cats'' Faction Leaders, and another got seriously injured, but they never really had a leader, so it didn''t count.


    Though Kanieta did hear one of them was in the process of getting the position officially. Then again, that could be a rumor one of the cats was spreading. You never knew with them.


    Her faction, the Redtail, along with the White Paw, Blood Claw, and Blue Sky factions, were the only ones to make it out with a Faction Leader living. That''s not to say they got off light with the death toll the Conclave cost, but at least they still had an official leader.


    As far as Kanieta could tell, every faction lost a third to half of their chieftains. Chieftains who filled positions that will be hard, if not impossible, to fill in the short term. Well, all but the Blood Claw Faction, who didn''t lose anyone.


    And then there was one.


    One tiny, little problem.


    A faction that also didn''t appear to lose anyone, but then again, none of them were around to ask.


    The fucking Spotted Prancers and their bitch leader Jovum.


    A quick investigation of the chamber revealed that a five-foot patch of the wooden wall had been reshaped. Like an escape hatch had been made, then quickly resealed without considering aesthetics.


    It was possible the blood mage only cast a barrier around the doors to reinforce them, though only an idiot would do that. And idiot blood mages didn''t last long, so that was unlikely.


    The prancers could have huddled in the corner cowering and waited until Green killed the Derg-Blood-Golem ¡ª putting aside how that was possible. As Knieta had never heard of a Kin-shaped blood golem. ¡ª before making their escape.


    With how fast everything went down, no one had been paying attention to much other than staying alive.


    All these points and more were pointed out to Kanieta by the other two Faction Leaders who stayed with her. Technically Barlot was in the room, but he was guarding his admittedly impressive ¡ª if a sight she never wanted to see ¡ª pile of body parts.


    "Even if his plan succeeded, and he either killed us all or had us swear Mana Oaths to him, he had to know some would resist him giving the orders. He is not the most well-liked, after all." Commented Joro. "I know my faction would cut all ties with him even if I ordered them not to."


    "You have so little sway?" Inquired Karlonu.


    "We determine who is Faction Leader by who has the most assets. I am solidly in the lead, but it is nothing the others cannot take from me should they wish to pay the price. And they know it. I am the highest among equals. But they would reject him due to the betrayal more than anything else. Profit is profit, after all."


    "How would they even know to cut ties if no one can say anything?" Asked Kanieta, "Derg could have claimed a rogue blood mage performed this act, and no one would even bother looking at him."


    "Ahh," Joro said with a twinkle in his eyes, "But you have not seen my clan''s latest and greatest product." He plucked one of his sapphire cufflinks on his jacket with a flourish and held it out to them.


    Kanieta glanced at it, then did a double take. Small runes were carved into the gold holding the gem, but it was so complex and delicate that she couldn''t make it out at this distance. Using her mana vision, she saw a slight glow of a spell, but that was all. And even that took some straining on her part.


    "What does it do." Asked Karlonu in mild curiosity while Kanieta was studying the enchantment.


    "It is able to record the image and sound of everything around it and replay it. Not only that, but if I use the mana, I can send the recording to a linked pair." Faction Leader Joro said with pride. "I meant for it to be a quick way to send messages and was planning to test it out on the Conclave before advertising it. But¡­"


    "Turned out to provide proof of Derg''s actions," Kanieta finished with a vicious grin.


    "Indeed." Joro agreed, nodding to her. "Even if he did succeed, every clan would have known about his betrayal, even without the badgers, in a matter of weeks."


    "I''m glad that no matter what, he would have failed, but there was no way for him to know that." Kanieta said, "It still doesn''t explain his actions."


    "Fear of failure?" Offered the rabbit.


    "No," Kanieta said, shaking her head vehemently. "We got lucky."


    "How so," asked Joro.


    Kanieta thought for a moment, then decided to tell them about the Derg-Blood-Golem."Green." At their blank looks, she explained, "The Olimpian Scout." They both nodded in recognition, "Without him¡­ we would have all died."


    "By ma Grandfathers left nut, we would have!" Roared Barlot from across the chamber.


    "Everyone knows his wife ripped it off when he cheated on her, ya mangy floor rug!" Screeched Barlots wife, Herok, from the other side of the room.


    "Just because it was ripped off," Replied Barlot in triumph, "Doesn''t mean he didn''t have it! In some ways, it was closer to his heart than ever!" Barlot then started roaring in laughter, much to his wife''s annoyance.


    Tuning out the rest of the shouting match, Kanieta turned to Joro as he said, "He has a point. The badgers are known for their power and endurance. There is a decent ch¡­" He trailed off as Kanieta firmly shook her head.


    "Green ripped Derg in half," Kanieta declared.


    "Impossible." Said Karlonu, in the chastising way of a mother to a child. "Everyone knows Olimpians can''t directly use their powers on others."


    "It was a blood golem in the shape of Derg." Kanieta stated, "It wasn''t actually, Derg. And from the blood crystal in the thing''s chest, it had enough mana to feed to his warriors until the badgers dropped. Though it is strange, I couldn''t feel the blood mana until after it shattered. And Green shouldn''t be able to do what he did either, which raises other questions¡­"


    Silence greeted her statement until Joro asked, ¡°¡­Are you sure." at her nod, he continued speaking but more to himself, "This changes things¡­ And where is he?"


    "I can answer that," Said Green as he entered the room, his jaw flexing as he clenched it hard enough to break his teeth. Before anyone could say anything, he continued, "Derg is to the east of here with his blood mages. They are sacrificing the villages in the Cradle to create those abominations and feed their magic."


    At the words, a stone dropped in Kanieta''s chest, and her mouth hung open in shock.


    "Hey, coz!" shouted Nareta from where she was helping to clear since she didn''t feel the need to fight ¡ª which was not a punishment, no matter how some people were complaining like it was ¡ª alongside Kanieta, "You don''t have to worry anymore! I found your Chieftain''s Staff! The Golems didn''t seem to touch it all!"


    Kanieta''s eyes squinted with the resolve burning in her heart as she started planning her next move.

 B2 Chapter 26

    "I would like to learn how you know that," said the rabbitkin, her hands lying in her lap. There was no judgment in her words or demeanor, only patient curiosity.


    My eyes flicked to Kanieta, who had a look of resolve on her face as she stared off to the side, not paying attention to us, so I started speaking. "When I killed the first blood golem, the destruction of the blood crystal caused it to releas¡ª


    "How did you kill the first Golem?" Interrupted the blue birdkin in the weird black jacket and undershirt.


    "Oh, ahh¡­" I was taken aback for a moment, then said, ¡°Fran¡ª Chieftain Franklin," I looked to my side, expecting to see him moping next to me like he had all day, but he was nowhere to be seen.


    A bellow of outrage was followed by a shout laced with horror, "We gotta Rogue! Get the fecker, or he''ll steal us blind!"


    Ignoring the commotion, I continued, ¡°¡ªhe made a golem to my side explode after leaping into it," that statement caused Kanieta to focus again if only to roll her eyes in exasperation with the rest of us, "and it threw me into second one. Its energy started invading my body, but I was able to¡­" I trailed off, unsure what to say or even if I should continue. I wasn''t even sure what I had done.


    "Take your time," said the motherly beastkin with a supportive smile. "This feels important to me, and the more thought out your explanation is, the better."


    It wasn''t like I was giving away military secrets, and it would be nice to have a sounding board to collect my thoughts. More than that, what I had done was nothing like I had ever heard others doing, and if these beings could help me understand, it would only make me stronger.


    Deciding to just talk my way through what happened, I started after a few minutes of localized silence as the disturbance the badgers were making around the room only grew. "When the energy invaded me, I¡­ felt all of the people it came from. Their pain and suffering before their deaths, and resentment at the world because of what had been done to them. The endless hunger that now consuming what was left of their melded minds. I could push back the advance of the energy slightly with my own, but I could do no more. But I was filled with seething wrath that such a thing had been done against nature. It was a blight on the world¡­"


    I paused, and the world around me fell away as my mind slipped back to that moment, "I needed more power than I possessed to remove it. So I reached out¡­ and energy flooded me. In an instant, I had more power inside my body than I could hold a thousand times over, so I guided it into the blood golem and shattered its core. The release of the energy pulled some of my own into its collapse and ended up acting as a pulse that revealed how they were all connected and being controlled by a single golem."


    "The Derg-shaped blood golem." Stated Kanieta.


    I dipped my head to her in confirmation and said, "I realized when I killed the first one that my tendrils were able to rip them apart." I saw the birdkin open his mouth to say something but was silenced by a quick glare from the rabbit. "So I made my way to Kanieta and then with her to Derg, where I drove my tendrils into him and shattered the core in his chest. The release of power was much greater than I anticipated. I ended up sending out another fake pulse down the control link, which was hundreds of miles long, and caused me to be dazed for a few seconds." I rubbed the side of my head as the phantom pain surfaced, "long enough to be knocked out."


    ¡°That¡­" Kanieta said thoughtfully. ¡°I¡ª


    "It''s impossible." Declared the bird. "He''s lying to us. Has to be."


    Irritation flashed through me, and I snapped, "Why would I lie?! Besides, if I''m right, it means you have a huge problem on your hands. What you do doesn''t matter to me one way or the other."


    "Calm." Soothed the rabbit''s gentle voice, "Let us all remain calm here. We gain nothing by fighting."


    Sucking in a long breath through my nose and held it for a few beats of my heart before letting it go and closing my eyes. I had no idea where that anger came from. I had been called far worse the liar before, that the beastkin didn''t ever say in an accusatory way. It was more like he was stating a fact.


    Opening my eyes, I reminded myself I was supposed to make friends and said with a quick bow, "I''m sorry, I don''t know what came over me."


    "It''s nothing." waved off the bird.


    "Joro has a point," Said the rabbit after a moment, and it was clear I was back under control, "What you say is impossible. In fact, you should have died in agony."


    "What?" I asked, turning to look at her in shock.


    But it was Kanieta who answered, "I told you before that if I touch your skin and inject mana into you, it will refill your core. But should I let it move through the air for even a moment before it enters your body, it would be like injecting poison."


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    I nodded, remembering our conversation while he huddled in the small basin within the Northern Forest.


    "The golem, while almost its own being, is still a spell. The instant its energy enters your body, its blood mana should have started eating away at your residual psy in your flesh like ants eating a carcass. The moment you actively resisted the intrusion with psy, it would cause the two to annihilate each other like small explosions within your body, ripping you apart from the inside. The conflict would cause more blood mana to be pulled into your body, whether the golem wanted it or not, intensifying the struggle. All of our studies and reasoning tell us that the moment the golem entered your body, the only result should have been mutual destruction for you and the blood golem as the opposing energies fought until only one remained." Kanieta''s voice was matter-of-fact when she spoke, sounding clinical.


    I felt my mouth go dry as I imagined the pain. "The only exception to mana entering an Olimpian''s body is healing magic, but even they aren''t all cut and dry. And the best way to stop it once it starts is to cut off the affected area. This is not suspicion or hearsay. It is a fact that has been documented repeatedly by nearly every clan and faction. You should have died. But I also know for a fact I saw you rip open the Derg-golem. I thought you had somehow used enough psy to drive into the blood core and shatter it, but that''s not the case, according to you."


    ¡°¡­I can only say that I haven''t lied to you," I said, trying to radiate integrity as much as I could. Never thought I would wish to be around Olimpians, I thought with mild exasperation. "Though I might be misinterpreting things. This is not my area of expertise."


    "If what you described is accurate," Said the rabbit, "then the power you pulled on was the world''s mana."


    "Which is why I say it was impossible." Said Joro. "Everyone knows Olimpains are hated and suppressed by the world."


    Opening my mouth to reject the accusation, I closed it without a sound coming out. Over the last day when I could control my powers, and before, while I was in the ward to a lesser degree, there was no better way to describe what I experienced.


    My whole life, it really was like I was hated and suppressed by the world. Well, there was when I sent out Earth Pulses, but the information overload was hard to handle, and it wasn''t that the world helped me. It just wasn''t against me. Now I have gone past indifference ¡ª which would be a blessing in itself ¡ª to being grudgingly supported.


    "I never checked to see if he was suppressed by the world. I just assumed," Kanieta interjected, pulling me from my thoughts, "It might be that his psy doesn''t react the way all the others we have tested have."


    "No, I''ve felt what you are talking about before," I said, giving her a look of irritation at her continued use of psy, only getting an impish look in reply. "My mental energy was ripped from me as it destroyed itself. Didn''t you see my battle against the camp?"


    "Nope, I felt the mana and came to check out what was happening." Kanieta said, "Though the question needs to be asked, what changed?"


    "Are we sure anything did? So far, we have no proof," interjected Joro. "Only a few events that may or may not have happened and could have other explanations."


    "It would be easy to get," Kanieta said before her smile turned mischievous, and she shouted, "Defend yourself!" a spike of shadow condensing next to her head.


    My eyes widened as I could tell by the look in her eye that she would shoot it at me. Hand snapping out, I pushed mental energy out of my body, forming it into the outline of a legion shield on instinct.


    A moment after my hand was out, the shadow spike flittered forward, breaking against my shield like nothing more than a patch of smoke.


    When the shadows faded a second later, I saw the three looking at each other, their eyes wide with shock.


    "Well, I guess that proves it," said Joro as he said back, the look of shock turning into one of contemplation.


    "That my mental energy will no longer react," I asked, wanting confirmation, though I already knew the answer.


    "Yes," said the rabbit, "but also you pulling on the world''s mana."


    "I didn''t pull on anything that time."


    "Yes, you did," Kanieta said, stepping in as the rabbit appeared content to sit back and watch. "When we cast spells, the world will help us by supplying mana. For us, it''s around four parts to one. It wasn''t nearly as much for you, but you did receive help just now."


    "Really," I asked. My mental energy felt denser than normal, but there were so many changes going on that I just wrote it off.


    "Yes." Kanieta said, "Also, we could see your shield like a mana shield."


    She looked around, receiving nods, as the rabbit decided to speak up, "Thought it did look slightly different. But there are many reasons for that to be the case."


    Kanieta shrugged as if the point didn''t matter, "Whatever it looked like, it even acted like a spell. As my spell hit, it became a contest between willpower, mana supply, and density. Not an act of mutual destruction."


    "Then what about what me pulling on the world''s mana?"


    Kanieta waved off the question like it was no concern, "It happens occasionally. People with strong willpower can pull on the world''s mana to fuel their spells, but it''s hardly worth it. In cases of intense emotion, sometimes the world will answer the call with support. It''s rare but well-known. I want to know what changed. And what you can do now without being suppressed." The look in her eye''s made me want to take a step back. It was like I had suddenly shifted from a person to a fascinating puzzle begging to be solved.


    "Uhhh," I said, trying to get this over with as fast as possible, "It has to be the ahh¡­ failed spell used on me. Since then, all of the weird stuff has been happening to me¡­ it''s fuzzy, but I could have sworn my mental energy reacted with mana on the raft."


    "Ha!" Shouted the rabbit in amusement, her composure breaking for the first time since I had seen her, "You think the Mother will react on the timescale of mortals? It''s a miracle she shifted her opinion of you this fast. A thousand years is but a blink of an eye for her."


    "Mother?"


    "Nature and all who live within her. The air, mana, and earth, she is us all and makes up everything around us." Explained the rabbit.


    So like an elemental, "Thank you for the explanation." I said, to which she nodded.


    "This is all fascinating," said the bird, "but if he is using some form of mana, then does that mean psy and mana are basically the same," a gleam of desire entered his eyes as he said the last part, "And does that mean you can use our enchantments?"


    "That could be a pro¡ª


    "Faction leaders," shouted a harried voice from suddenly thrown open doors. "A messenger from the Olimpians has arrived at our gates."

 B2 Chapter 27

    Green was the first to speak after the messenger stopped talking, "I shouldn''t be here when they arrive, and it can only cause problems if I am."


    "For you, or for us?" Asked Kanieta.


    "Both?" Green said, "I can easily be labeled a deserter¡­ I might already be one, which will be a problem, and you will be underestimated more without me here. In their eyes, I will either be a pawn of someone trying to create a new tool out of you. Or a statement that you are, in fact, intelligent and can manipulate me to serve you. Neither is a good starting point."


    "True enough," Said Karlonu, "But we still need the use of your services. So I would ask you to enjoy our hospitality until then."


    "Need my help with what?".


    "Why, with finding and killing Derg, of course. You already said he is killing your people to use in his spells. Is it not your duty to save them?" Karlonu said pleasantly.


    "Technically. But it might not go as well as you would think," Green said, rubbing the back of his head. He looked even more uncomfortable as his face twisted with an internal war raging within him.


    "Regardless, you are the only lead we have. I am sure that your commander would be pleased with you helping us in the name of peace. After all, Derg has proven himself a menace to both our people and yours. And he has already proven that he will stop at nothing to achieve what he desires."


    ¡°Yeah¡­" Green said, giving a sigh of resignation. "It''s better than returning and being killed because it''s more convenient." Kanieta was fairly sure they weren''t supposed to hear that last part, as it was said in a whisper.


    "Wonderfull," Karlonu said, ignoring his comment and focusing on what she wanted as she clapped her hands, "Messenger," The foxkin woman''s head snapped up from where she was slinking to the side of the door, trying to disappear into the wall, "Take Scout Green here to one of the Stewards, and have them assign him one of the rooms as a guest. Then find and tell an elder to show our guests around our new city before bringing them to meet us here in an hour while the word spreads for faction representatives to gather."


    "As you wish, Faction Leader." Said the messenger as she motioned for Green to follow her.


    Green threw a few glances at Kanieta and around the room, but she looked at him impassively as he turned to leave. Only to look to the side in surprise as someone shouted, "Wait for me!"


    Franklin, now covered in blood and wounds, ran up to Green, tossing a lump of meat into his mouth to a cry of despair behind him.


    As the three left the room, the doors behind them slammed shut with a bang.


    "Why do you want him with us to scout for Derg?" Kanieta immediately asked, "We already have a direction. I can''t see him contributing much more."


    "Maybe not with hunting Derg," Karlonu agreed, "But his presence will show the inhabitants of the Cradle that we are willing to work with them. And that had nothing to say about what we can discover by studying him and his newfound abilities. As far as I am aware, that was the first time a Kin has seen psy. And while it was definitely different from mana, there must be a connection. An explanation to the change."


    "I must gather enchantments and see if he can power them."


    Murmmered Joro. "And other Olimpians."


    "The dedication to concealing our advantages is important, but aren''t there other things to worry about," Kanieta said, "Like the impending arrival of the delegation."


    "Haa," scoffed Joro, "that might be a concern for you, but I need to know where I should be positioned financially. If Olimpians can power enchantments, it will open up a new field of commerce that no one has anticipated. Think of the profit!"


    "Oh. Well, I guess that''s one way to look at it." Kanieta muttered. It''s not like we will have to be concerned about our weapons and armor from our elites falling into the Olimpains'' hands and being used against us¡­ But if they could, why haven''t the Letairry done it before. Maybe it''s as simple as they have never tried, but I doubt it.


    Coming out of her thoughts, she heard Karlonu shouting, ¡°¡­bring dishonor to our people by showing outsiders our weakness, then burn and bury everything in an hour!"


    "Nooo~!" wailed the collective badgers.


    An outsider would think Karlonu had just taken away the favorite toy from a group of four-year-olds. Not tell a bunch of adults, some well over a hundred years old, that they had to clean up a mess.


    "Be strong, my people!" Choked out their Faction Leader like he was holding back tears, "For with the appearance of a blood mage, there are bound to be more battles."


    "Yeah!" Cheered the badgers before chanting, "Battle! Battle! Battle!"


    It went on for five seconds before a Barlot boomed again, "Quiet! Now, eat your fill, and let''s get this dreadful duty over width. For the Kin!"


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    "For the Kin!" shouted back the badgers before diving for their or other''s piles of rotting meat.


    Turning away from the grisly display of flying chunks and slurping noises, Kanieta settled down in her chair to wait.


    The feast, if you can really call it that, lasted for five long minutes before it ended with a series of contented belches and moans.


    Then what had been taking all morning was completed in minutes as the bodies were burned into ash and carted out or buried deep in the ground. It was amazing what can be done when badgers aren''t constantly getting in the way.


    Half an hour after the messenger arrived, the chamber was nearly back to what it had been before. The main difference was the lack of chairs.


    With a few pointed hints at the badgers about how shabby their Grand Hall will look to the Olimpians from Karlonu, they started walking around and dropping the room into the ground, creating circular-tiered stone seating. The final row of which was five feet from the floor the center platform was placed on. Then they made a smaller railed podium at the base of the stairs coming from the southern door for those who wished to address the Conclave''s leaders.


    While all this was being done, Elders and Chieftains for every faction started arriving, with the temporary representatives joining Kanieta and the others on the central platform.


    The Cats were still absent, but the Twin Horn, Dark Haven, and Shimmer Scales had older chieftains on stage.


    Those everyone knew would step down soon and become an Elder and couldn''t use the temporary bump in power for their own grab for the position.


    When the hour was up, the southern doors of the chamber swung outward, and the messenger stepped forward, only to be startled as she looked down into the new chamber.


    Looking to the side, Kanieta froze as she didn''t see who she expected. Master of Ceremonies Ko, or that old rabbit she had known all her time as Faction Leader, wasn''t there.


    In his place was a bullkin who still had a hint of youth in his form, though his horns were faded and the tips were chipped from age. He was far past his prime but nowhere near the brink of death like the old Master of Ceremonies.


    Not that Master of Ceremonies Ko was on the brink of death anymore because he had already passed over the veil.


    The Stewards, the semi-faction the Master of Ceremonies belongs to, came into being when the Conclave was created. They were the peacekeepers between the factions and arbiters of disputes. And over the course of their history, they developed a field of magic all their own.


    They were the ones who discovered how to make oaths and bind the terms to the takers'' mana, making it impossible or deadly to break. Creating magical binding documents and the ability, to tell the truth from falsehood.


    And there was so much more that they could do, but exactly what was hidden behind the wall of their order. What the old Master of Ceremonies had done was one of their secrets, which involved the badgers apparently. Though even now, they were being cagy with their answers.


    Whatever the spell was, the price was the Master of Ceremonies'' life. Kanieta was unsure if it was just one of the costs of the spell or if the old rabbit was so old that he couldn''t take the strain of casting it, but the result was the same.


    Kanieta had few interactions with the old rabbit, but they were on friendly terms. And seeing his spot taken up by another was another reminder of her failure. Another debt Derg would have to answer for.


    "Who comes before the Conclave of the People." Boomed the new Master of Ceremonies.


    The messenger''s eyes flicked to the side quickly, and her feet shuffled in place as Kanieta heard a faint murmur. Then she said, with growing confidence, ¡°¡­I¡ª bring before the Conclave, Shree Ponpti, scion of¡­ House Ponpti? Envoy and Tribune Latic of the 15th Legion. And her retinue."


    A quiet murmuring ran through the crowd at the number of titles that were given to the messenger. It was expected that everyone who came before the Conclave would have some number of titles. Why else would they have the right to be seen? But to have the announcer pronounce many was just not done.


    It was commonly accepted among the Kin that only one title should be used when introductions were made. Because while a person''s titles said much, far more was said about them by what they chose to present.


    While there was no reasonable way for the envoy to know of their traditions, it didn''t start off this meeting on the best foot.


    "Enter Shree Ponpti, Scion of House Ponpti, Envoy and Tribune Latic of the 15th Legion, and bring your message before the Gathered Factions of the People." Said the Master of Ceremonies from his position.


    A moment after the words, an Olimpain woman strode into the room, her head held high. She was wearing a bright yellow dress that hung from two straps on her shoulders, leaving her long neck and upper chest open, and that draped over her form and trailed behind her. Every one of her steps pulled the dress tight against her figure as it followed behind like it was falling in endless waves.


    Even as she descended the steps and placed herself below everyone gathered in the room, she looked at them like they were all beneath her. Like it was all their greatest honor to be in her presence.


    Behind her was a man in black legion armor and another woman, who could only be described as delicate but with eyes like steel, in the traditional red and brown of the legions.


    Of the three, Kanieta had the best opinion of the smaller woman. She was also striding into the room, but it was the stalking of a predator on guard. There was confidence in her steps, but it was that of an equal, not someone looking down on those around them.


    The leading woman didn''t even pause as she strode up to and then onto the smaller stage, claiming it as her own with her flowing dress trailing onto the steps up, then proclaimed, "I have come here on the orders of the Guardian of the Northern Line, he has assured me that you are seeking to make peace with us, though you have a strange way of going about it. So I am here to accept your surrender."


    No one said a word from shock before Kanieta spoke, "We destroyed and captured two-thirds of your fort in a night. You were unable to so much as press our defense of the Northern fort. So we decided to give it back, as you so clearly desired, as a show of good faith." There was no need to go into their internal problems, making them look weak. "Why would we be surrendering to you? If anything, it would be a merging of equals. Or your surrender, we would be fine with that."


    "Heeh," Scoffed the woman again, "I thought you were supposed to be intelligent? You beg for help against a foe and warn us that they are already among us. But I have seen no proof. Instead, I think that if this enemy exists at all, you have lost to them and are bringing them to our doorstep. To fight this battle for you, we demand your surrender. Come to the properly manned Triad when you are ready to talk terms."


    With that, she turned and started striding away without anyone able to say another word.

 B2 Interlude 1

    Memory Crystal of The Last and First Elder¡ª


    By traveling far and wide, I witnessed what was left while collecting the necessary knowledge. I finally understand the events that led us to the state we are in, though it is little comfort.


    I leave this to those who will come after we finish our fall. To give a glimpse of why the world is the way it is and what led to your existence. In this way, I hope you won''t commit our mistakes.


    My time is short. Even now, I can feel my mind collapsing as I use my will to inscribe this record.


    It does not matter, though, for this day will be the end of my people. Whatever remnants remain, they won''t be part of our empire, for they will no longer be part of The Pact.


    I may have been forced onto a path that results in me losing my mind and body, but it is the cursed wretches left to live out the rest of their lives in the ruins of what we once were who should be pitied. Though, then again, they were the ones to choose the fate of us all.


    Our self-destruction was inevitable. The reach of our people had gone farther than anyone could have ever imagined, and our only limit was how far we wished to extend our reach, for there were none that could challenge us.


    None but ourselves.


    Looking back at my people''s history, it is obvious that we started dividing ourselves by the Path of mental casting we walked early on. It was the only logical choice. The length of our lives might be counted in centuries, but to reach the peak of power, one has to focus their efforts.


    While it is possible for those with power to progress far in the other paths of mental disciplines, it is impossible to reach the peak in more than one. And it isn''t even a matter of some supreme talent waiting to be born to blow all of our expectations out of the water.


    As one''s power grows, the essence of their soul changes. Not the core, for no power short of the Creator, could ever tamper with the heart of a soul, but the shell around it. The change is not the same from one individual to the next, but there is always a transformation. It is a shift in perspective that comes from how one views the powers they use while manipulating the world.


    That change was the essence of our demise.


    While the Paths of our mental techniques may cross or intertwine for a time, they can be divided into three categories, the Paths of Body, Mind, and Nature.


    Like any society, we had clans, sects, and individuals who held power and social status to varying degrees, but those mattered far less than their Path.


    As the Paths'' differences in perspective became more apparent, the young were kept separate so they wouldn''t be tempted. A temptation that would lead them to be separated from all they know should they follow it, not because of the physical distance, but how they would end up viewing the world.


    Nature wielders focus on casting their powers externally and, as the name suggests, controlling the elements. By its very essence, controlling nature leads to vast areas of effect. While they can focus their powers on small areas for devastating results, they are most destructive in small areas. Locations where they can turn the ambient energy against itself, causing such vast destruction that few could survive standing within it.


    Such power leads those who wield it to believe that they are capable of anything. A belief that, in many ways, is correct. They live seeking harmony and balance in all things, for in a brief moment of inattention, they could devastate all around them. And when an individual can not achieve a goal, there is always another who can be brought in to help, for nothing exists in isolation, which leads to all on the Nature path working together to form a greater whole.


    Counter to the Nature Path, those on the Mind Path focus on individualism and intelligence. They do not accept the world as it is but as they would like it to be, and they will shift their own perspective and those around them until the world is seen that way. They are at their strongest when no one knows they are around, striking at weak points that no one else can see.


    This power leads its wielders to believe they are always in the right. That they can see the right course of action, and all of those lessers around them are blind, for they can never seem to take a step forward without taking two back. Since they can reshape how others view the world, they could make it a better place. And, of course, as they are the ones doing all of the work, why should they not enjoy the benefits?


    For the Body Path, every individual''s actions are about improving themselves, though we acknowledge we may get better results by working together. Marginal, nearly insignificant improvements that build upon each other, whether it is with their skills, body, or mind. Every day is another chance to push yourself. To become as solid as steel or graceful as a breath of air. And as one takes one of the aspects of the surrounding world into their bodies, they become as strong as nature itself.


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    The Path leads those who follow it into a life of isolation. It reinforces and justifies an unyielding faith in their own efforts and abilities. Everything outside their own efforts and improvements fades away unless they think something in the wider world can help them along their journey. Once they have advanced far enough along their Path, they begin to harmonize and assimilate part of nature. How they view their element will change their temperaments to some degree, based on how they view their element, becoming as raging as a fire or as calm as stone.


    Avoiding being influenced by the power we wield and falling into one of these categories is impossible if we want to be strong. How much we are influenced will vary, but it will be there if we have accrued any reasonable amount of power. Because our mental abilities, more than anything else, are based on belief.


    A belief that limits us as much as it propels us.


    At the peak of power, all lines blur, but that is not the case for the rest of the journey.


    In the beginning, those who focus on the Mind, as only those of will and intellect will ever step foot on the Path, will be the strongest. Then comes Nature and, finally, Body.


    The farther one walks along the Paths, the less influence the Mind Path can exert on them, as only those with an iron will ever reach those levels of power. And the Body path begins to rise as the number of gains they have achieved stacks upon themselves.


    Resulting in the Mind path eventually falling to the weakest on average, with the Body path the strongest.


    As we developed and refined our Paths, progressing farther down them with every generation, the inevitable happened. Those of the Mind path could not take their relegation of power.


    They long looked upon the Body path as intellectual inferiors who needed guidance, and in truth, many of us were. But the individualistic nature of the Body Path and our fickle actions often brought us into conflict with the Mind Path.


    Conflicts that were becoming progressively more one-sided as time passed.


    The result was the Mind wielders losing their power. And affront that they would not stand for.


    The Nature Path stepped in as our society headed to what appeared to be an ever more likely civil war. They recently had their first High King born, as he was able to reach the state of One With the World.


    His powers became so great that he could reach out past this world and connect with another. All with the help of their world tree acting as a bridge between the realms.


    To access this wonder, the Nature Path made the other Paths join The Pact. It was the masterwork of an enchanter and, quite literally, a living document. After some negations about the precise rules, all of the factions agreed.


    It was one of our most extraordinary, and inevitably our worst, achievements as a people.


    The document''s power tied the souls of our people together. It stipulated a set of rules of when we could make war against each other. It granted rights to every elf and had expectations from them as well.


    When The rules weren''t followed, those who broke them were punished.


    There was no mere beating or fines levied against the offender. No, it did not matter where they were, but anyone breaking the documents would feel as if the heavens themselves were suddenly against them.


    Whatever Path they walked, they would find it all but cut off from them. Making them nearly more than the base beings we found on the lesser worlds.


    The Mind Path could not allow themselves to be cut off from the opportunities and riches found on the frontier worlds, so they signed The Pact.


    At first, the Mind Path was placated by what they gained as they willingly placed a leash around their necks. They could walk the worlds and act as gods, and they forced their will upon those with lesser minds.


    But soon, the truth became apparent to all.


    The Path of the Mind is fraught with traps. Pitfalls that even those who are careful and well-meaning can fall into at a moment''s notice. And those who have no intention of being kind can reach levels of depravity that are best left to the imagination or, better yet, forgotten to the march of time.


    A shift in perspective began to take place among my people.


    The Body Path began to see themselves as the protectors of the lesser races we found. The youth were always looking for a challenge, and fighting for better treatment among those we ruled was better than most options they had.


    They would go out looking to those of the Mind Path and, when found, would do all within their power to undermine their plans.


    Challenges and provocations were called out until either the one on the Mind Path halted whatever they were doing or accepted the challenge to make the loser leave the area.


    While there were situations that demanded the gathering of individuals to make a judgment on a problem. Usually, when no agreement could be reached, it inevitably came down to single combat. And more often than not, the Mind Path would lose.


    The holdings of the sects and clans walking the Mind Path continued to shrink. Even on the frontier worlds, where The Pact had a lesser hold on us, the mind path could not retain its lands.


    With the constant persecution and the lesser hold of The Pact on the frontiers, many on the Mind Path began to change their actions to those of more questionable methods. The actions of those violating The Pact only added fuel to the fire.


    Even the factions within the Mind Path that had never set foot outside the bounds of what would be considered acceptable started to be punished.


    Soon, the Mind Path could find no one other than those of their own Path willing to help them.


    Those of the Nature Path tried to placate those of the Mind, to force those of the Body to stand back and give them some space, but it was already too late. The ones in the faction who voiced patience and moderation had been silenced. Either by being replaced, through murder or election, or being shoved into obscurity.


    The majority of those on the mind path had enough of the persecution, and they would have their reckoning.


    At the time, it didn''t look like anything special had changed. The Mind Path pulled back into their long-established underground cities, cutting off nearly all contact with the outside world.


    Those of the Body Path celebrated like they had ridden the world of some grand evil.


    And then, the Mind Path began their efforts to corrupt The Pact.

 B2 Interlude 2

    Memory Crystal of The Last and First Elder¡ª


    Like most of our castings, The Pact had its powers rooted in our perception. What passages were ironclad and which could be bent depended on the consensus of the current age.


    That has always been a strength and weakness of our powers.


    No one can say if the world is trying to change itself to our desires or if our desires are changing how the energies of the universe act.


    Regardless of the reason, the results were the same. The more time that passes, the stronger our castings become.


    Looking back, the shift to The Pact was subtle and in line with the convoluted machinations of the Mental Path. It was something that, in a limited scope, was even a good thing.


    One of the first clauses of The Pact was, "No permanent harm shall be knowingly inflicted upon another of The Pact outside of ritual combat, sparring, or sanctioned war."


    When punishments were handed out by The Pact, the intent of the involved individuals was taken into account.


    If you ask any child when you deny them a treat, they will see it as one of the worst punishments that could ever be handed out in the history of forever. All the way up until they forget about it five minutes later.


    Ask any elder, and they will say that the young frequently do not know what is good for them. They will take the easy route when the only times you ever get something good is through hard work and struggle.


    Parents, if they are to be good parents and instill in their offspring the skills and mentality to live a productive life, must inflict minor harm upon their children so they do not experience what the true depths of despair really are.


    They might be breaking the wording of The Pact, but they are keeping in line with its spirit. It is a distinction that the living document takes into account, depending on the perception of the majority of those attached to the document.


    Those of the Mind Path played into this loophole. Starting off in small areas, they begin to play on the egos of those on the Body Path. They twisted their thoughts so that it wasn''t enough to just beat those of the Mind Path physically.


    After all, how was that a real accomplishment?


    When one walks down the Path of the Body, it is a lifelong journey. Martial combat and exceeding the limitations of the elven body went hand in hand. Beating someone of the Mind Path, who spent all their time in contemplation, was only to be expected.


    To lose such a match in that light was a blow against one''s sect and Path as a whole. If they really wanted to prove their dominance, the Body Path would have to beat them physically as well as mentally.


    No one saw a problem with this. For at first, it was games of memory and strategy that were the focus. Though it soon shifted to those on the Path of the Body trying to compete mentally with those of the Mind.


    There were always stories about how a master of the body path bested one of the minds. That she withstood wave after wave of mental attacks until the mind caster wore themselves out, and she lashed out with a blow of her own, knocking the mind caster out.


    Few, if any, could ever say who these people were, and if one ever tried to track down the rumors, all they would typically find was air, but the stories continued to circulate. And the impressional youths continued in the shows of dominance.


    At this same time, though no one knew it at the time, the Mind Path was laying out another path to their victory. It was simple. They started to reproduce. Hundreds then thousands of miles of tunnels were hollowed out under the world.


    They bread animals and plants to grow incredibly well under the earth in preparation. And when they were finally ready, they took a portion of their population and started producing half-elves. It was a minor miracle they found a race compatible with elves, and they decided to abuse their shorter lifespans.


    It was only a small section of their population, those with the weakest mental powers. While the result of the breeding generally resulted in those with weak mental abilities, there was the occasional offspring that was strong.


    But more than anything else, the resulting children were capable of a much greater reproduction rate than pure elves. Though they gave up some of their longevity, the leaders of the Mind Path didn''t care.


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    Because with the mental powers, there came a connection to The Pact.


    Thus began the twisting of their own society and The Pact. The leaders made the development of casters on the Mind Path the sole goal of their society. From the age a child could barely talk and walk, they were subjected to harsh training.


    Training, which, as it progressed in its complexity and normality over the decades and centuries, became all the more brutal. To the point that of any ten children born on the same day, three would die before the age of seven. Three more of the seven would become so mentally damaged they could not function as a normal adult by their teens. And three more of the four would be handicapped by their late teens, severely limiting their mental abilities.


    All of this, of course, was for the children''s own good.


    Gradually, but steadily, it became acceptable to mentally harm someone if it was for their own benefit. Rather than having teachers cursed by The Pact instruct the children, any parent could do the same at home, making those who survived even stronger.


    Those on the Body Path accepted this with open arms. They could strain and improve every aspect of their body. But honing the mind, no other group could do that as well as those on the Mind Path.


    All of a sudden, many of those on the Body path were being crippled as their minds were broken. Not to the point that they became an invalid, but it wasn''t that far off either.


    Then they made their move.


    As no one wanted to see their friends and family become unable to care for themselves, those of the Mind Path proposed another option.


    Have The Pact decide.


    While not inflicting harm upon another in the middle of a struggle for dominance was not within the capabilities of a mortal, The Pact was more than capable of such a feat. Of course, there still had to be repercussions for those who failed so miserably that The Pact had to step in on their behalf.


    A sentiment that was accepted immediately by those of the Body path. Failure was a part of life and the best teacher for those who wanted to better themselves. What better way to contemplate a failure than to suffer through penance.


    It was decided that a term of service for those who lost would be the consequence of losing. The length would depend on the damage prevented, the severity of the situation in which the challenge was proposed, along with other factors.


    As soon as the change was made, the full ramifications of my ancestor''s error became apparent.


    The Mind Path goaded those of the Body Path into a challenge and took control over some of their strongest practitioners. More and more challenges were made and lost in small areas, resulting in those of the Mind Path practically having complete control over them.


    Then they would challenge for leadership in those areas. The elders of the Sects and clans had three choices, either accept the loss and be ruled over by those in the Mind Path, flee the area, thereby forfeiting all rights to the land, or fight in the challenge.


    A challenge where they would have to kill their own grandchildren. And if they win, they would only be met with another challenge and have to kill another one of their offspring. Or an offspring of one of the other elders.


    Even if they fought to the end, killing all those who challenged them, they would not have enough numbers to hold the area they were assigned. And the sect of the Mind Path making the play would issue a complaint to the High Lords that the sect no longer had the numbers to perform the job of protecting the land properly, so they should be removed from power.


    Truly, though it was not fully understood at the time, the Mind Path had created a situation where they would come out on top no matter what happened.


    Even though the sects that the Mind Path took over were small, word quickly began to spread.


    They thought it was because they were weak. Or that the Mind Path had created an elite that could suppress all others.


    If anything, the reaction within those of the Body Path was overwhelmingly a sense of excitement and challenge. All the surrounding areas flocked to take up that challenge, lest they be left behind by their neighbors and rivals.


    It was not long before more sects and clans fell under the Mind Path''s control.


    By this point, word of what was really happening was getting out, but it was already far too late to stop it.


    Those of the mind path stopped all pretenses and started flooding out of their caves. One after another, the fertile lands that those of the Body Path controlled were lost to them. It resulted in entire worlds being lost to all but the Mind Path.


    After being used to destroy their homes, kill their friends and family, and have years of being treated worse than animals during their service, those of the Body Path were freed. They were released and filled with the fire of revenge.


    Though they took over the land, many of the strongest fighters were now gathering together, forming their own plans against the Mind Path.


    As a response to the growing hostility, the Mind Path began helping those within their grasp. Training them like their own children to become the best possible mind casters.


    The result was that most of those undergoing the training had their minds broken. Those who lived were only filled with fury and would forever seek out revenge. With them being strengthened by their ordeals, they were all the more prepared.


    But the majority, those who had their minds broken, were nothing but shells. Puppets that those of the Mind Path can control at will.


    Like the tide, the Mind Path rose, pushing back those of the Body Path into their mountain fortresses. Isolated training ground that held the strongest of their Path.


    Those of the Nature Path finally took notice of the Mind Path''s abuse of the Pack and tried to force them to stop, to place limitations on them, but all it did was draw those of the Mind Path''s ire.


    After all, the Nature Path was the one who originally placed the shackles onto the Mind Path millennia ago.


    And with them controlling the majority of those who made up the Body path, they were able to declare the first and last war of the Golden Empire.

 B2 Interlude 3

    Memory Crystal of The Last and First Elder¡ª


    Never before was anything close to a war ever needed for us. A few hundred of those on the Body Math, backed by someone on the Mind Path or Nature Path, and no one could stand against them.


    It was not a matter of resolve or courage but a stark reality. Once an elf got to the intermediate rank, no matter of skill backed by a mortal body could compare. Even if they were somehow caught off guard, the only chance of wounding the elf was in the eyes, and even then, that wouldn''t kill them. The bone of the eye socket would stop the blade.


    With their bodies reinforced with mental energy, the only thing that can penetrate is more mental energy. It isn''t even like someone on the Nature Path, where enough pain could cause them to blank out and lose control of their mental castings. No, those on the body path had their mental energy fused into their very being.


    So with an unbreakable wall surrounding a being that can cause natural disasters or evoke crippling fear within all around them, no army could stand its ground.


    Individuals might hold firm, but they would be the ones bisected to serve as an example.


    Only a few races had shamans and mystics that could momentarily halt our advance, but they were few and far between. A precursor to what will be considered real strength in a thousand years of further development. Such crude manipulations of world energy could barely be considered a Path. And if a group of them were together, it would hardly take the attention of a whole sect trying to gain some slight notoriety.


    To say we entered a war with armies of tens to hundreds of thousands marching in the field never happened. There was never any need.


    To even officially call a war under the rules of The Pact required two-thirds of its members to agree, and getting two of the three factions to agree on anything was considered impossible.


    After the Mind Path''s antics, it was the simplest thing in the world to declare war for them, though it wasn''t an all-out war.


    No, the Mind Path was too smart for that.


    Though it was never considered possible, two factions within The Pact could turn on the third and try to subjugate them, as they would an external foe.


    What they did was bring up a provision in The Pact for a dispute between two factions that can not be resolved without bloodshed. Typically it was used for clans and sects when they both thought something belonged to them. They would fight until one admitted defeat.


    The Mind Pact twisted it so that they claimed that because the Nature Path was unwilling to pay them reparations ¡ª in the form of handing over control of the World Tree while still maintaining its upkeep ¡ª for forcing the Pact on them and the ensuing generations of persecution, the Mind Path had the right to challenge for control of any city. A challenge that would be done by right of conquest.


    And when they conquered the city or area they contested, they would use the same reasoning to challenge another area of land, usually in a poorly guarded location. Or a place the Mind Path had stacked troops outside of.


    With the practice already well established, if grudgingly so by most, the Mind Path started to break the wills and minds of those on the Nature Path they captured. They were not bound to service for years like honor duels, but while the battle for the territory raged, they would be under the Mind Path''s hospitality.


    Those on the Nature Path could resist better than those on the Body Path, and with the limited time they were held, there were few successes, but some minds were still broken. And the intensity of the fighting had gotten to the point that it was more likely that anyone with the possibility of being captured would rather kill themselves than risk having their mind broken and be used as a puppet to fight their comrades.


    After the first frantic months of the war, it settled into a grind.


    Even those of the Nature Path had to accept that there would never again be peace within their lands while the Mind Path still existed. Many tried to convince anyone who would listen that there was still room for negotiation and reconciliation, but only the desperate or naive would listen to them.


    The remnants of the Body Path would never forget or forgive. And as the army of the Nature Path was exposed to the harsh realities of their foes, even they were calling out for more drastic measures. Measures that they would have to be the spearhead of, but it was better than sitting back and waiting for the next attack to fall down on their necks.


    Of course, the World Tree was closed off to the Mind Path, but it was already too late. Their enclaves on scattered worlds were self-sufficient. And those not already isolated on worlds started proxy wars like wildfires, manipulating armies of natives as disposable pieces to attack the interests of the other Paths.


    Not that the Nature Path closing the gate to the World Tree mattered, as the Mind Path had found some way to slip around all of the precautions placed around the World Tree and slip onto distant worlds. The Tree had grown too big and touched too many words to be completely monitored and controlled.


    There were never many, but even worlds wholly controlled by the Body and Nature Path had to be on the lookout for sabotage. And the farther away the world was from the elves'' home world, the more direct the attacks would become.


    With Nature''s Path being predisposed to large engagements, the war turned into one of attrition.


    But a war of attrition was a war the Mind Path was destined to win. Their vast cities under the earth pumped out army after army to throw against the Nature Path, and every casualty was one that wouldn''t be around in the next battle. While the Mind Path had armies of disposable short-lived cousins ready to march to war.


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    And with the Mind Path in control of the Pact, the Nature Path could never appropriately retaliate.


    From the start, the outcome was already preordained.


    The Mind Path ground their way forward, isolating the Nature Path into small areas where they could destroy whole armies with little more effort than kicking over a pile of dirt. With every cataclysmic battle, the Nature Path destroyed the world around them.


    They had failed to keep balance within their people, and now the balance of the world was falling apart as they destroyed it. While it may not be apparent on the surface, their will to keep fighting was vanishing, and their mental strength was weakening.


    Weakened though it might be, they would not accept the rule of the Mind Path, for every record of the Mind Path ruling showed what that would lead to. And if someone didn''t trust the records or theories, all they had to do was look at their current society.


    While the power of our mental abilities inherently leads to a few reigning over the many, those of the Mind Path take it to an extreme. They have to.


    To them, knowledge is quite literally power.


    And all of the strongest casters are, almost to a one, egotistical narcissistic megalomaniacs. It is almost like manipulation and treachery are fed to them from their mother''s breast.


    Whether it is our perception of the powers that have led them to this course or its inherent nature, I can not say. What I can say is what they have become from our treatment and festering in their self-created cesspool of a society.


    I can understand why they pulled into themselves. They were given very few options. My ancestors hunted them until they had nowhere else to go. Only the Nature Path stepping in stopped my ancestors from pursuing them as they fled the surface lands.


    The twisted course their Path took once they were below the surface could be understood, though it should also be viewed as one of the greatest tragedies ever happening to our people.


    Now it was clear they would destroy and defile everything we had built if they ever came into power.


    A future that looked like it would come to pass with greater certainty every decade the war dragged on.


    The Pact, once an iron-clad collar around all our necks, was being twisted beyond recognition. Actions that would have cost a caster their power were now becoming commonplace, as the perception of everyone was being warped by endless savage battles.


    The document, which was supposed to offer us endless prosperity and peace as we worked together, became the leash of slavery and conflict for our people. It was only fitting in a way, for our Paths forced this upon the Mind Path, and they were the first to feel the caress of its jaws around their neck.


    Slavery was a harsh teacher. And a great incentive to learn how to twist the rules in your favor. It might have taken generations, but they are finally on the other end.


    With victory within their reach, the Mind Path doubled down on their practices. Why would they change something that worked better than they could ever hope?


    The places once thought impregnable began to fall as their defenders were ground into nothing.


    Those on the Nature Path were driven back into their Great Forest, where the World Tree held power. And those of the Body Path were hunted until they became nomadic bands, always on the brink of being found and broken.


    A few villages still existed, but they were the homes of those at the peak of the Body Path. The ones that could not be killed in battle, only old age.


    And still, the Mind Path would not stop their war.


    We pleaded with them to stop, as by this point, it became clear that there would only be one winner, but they refused. Victory would be theirs. All they had to do was wait.


    While the Nature Path still had control over the heart of the World Tree, most of its branches on other worlds were in the hands of the Mind Path. But the Nature Path could still see what was passing along the passages of the World Tree.


    They could see the slavery imposed by the Mind Path on other worlds. Tens of thousands were marched from their world, clapped in irons, to fates unknown.


    The Mind Path would not stop.


    They could not.


    There was always a power struggle between the Mind Path''s factions as they were always one-upping each other. The moment once faction stopped accumulating power with all its facets was the moment they became weak enough to succumb to one of their many rivals.


    Eventually, once those who oppose them have fallen, they will destroy themselves. But ages will pass from now until then, and the depravities that will be imposed on countless worlds will be unimaginable.


    No, the Nature Path would not allow such a fate to happen. So they defiled the Pact far more than what the Mind Path had done to it.


    Their High King, a being so in touch with the world that his mental energy was only limited by the world around him, turned his power on the Pact.


    The Pact, in its simplest form, was a contract of equality. So that everyone who was part of it would be treated equally and have the same chance.


    Our powers are linked to our will and intent. But there is little difference between what we desire the most or least when it comes to such areas. In fact, when it comes to willpower, what we desire the least often drives us to do more than pursue a dream.


    So with mind and the few remaining elders'' agreements, the High King gave us everything we didn''t want.


    But the High King would need more than endless power to destroy the living document. He would have to draw on the will of his people. So they gathered for a great ceremony, one that was even larger than The Pact''s creation.


    They poured power into the document and started off with themselves. All they ever desired was to live in harmony with the world and people, so they made themselves hated by it. The full ramifications will take time to see, as the will of a world is not so easily or quickly changed. But given enough time, suppressed by the heavens would be the expected result.


    We of the Body Path wanted physical perfection and mastery over ourselves. We looked at the world, following animals and the elements to create skills along our Path. So they pushed our powers outward into the world while our bodies became like we long studied. Taking on the appearances of the animals our fighting forms were named after.


    With the imbalance, it was easy for the Nature Path to force a change upon the Mind Path. They wanted to rule. To guide the masses. So they made them unwilling to trust. Not unable, but only the closest of bonds and greatest assurances would be required to be given even the slightest fleck of trust.


    Nearly instantly, every single member of the Pact could feel the changes and wanted it gone.


    The Pact shattered, but even its creators didn''t understand what they had done. So far, everything that the Pact did was external. It made them unable to act or forced conditions upon them.


    But what the Nature Path did was use the Pact to change us. It changed our souls. No matter how quick the cause was destroyed, the change was already made.


    Our society collapsed.


    Is collapsing even now.


    Those who followed the Body Path are becoming animals. Our powers feed the change, feeding the growth of hair and claws. Fangs replace our teeth, and our eyes burn while they change. And whatever our powers become, they are far different than what they were.


    But most of all, the change is taking away our minds. We are being driven by instinct.


    Only I, Rakol, Patriarch of the Badger Claw Clan, have been able to retain my mind for these few years. But even I don''t know how much I will keep once my mental energy is gone. I don''t think it will be much, if any.


    So I will leave this account while I can. And if we should become nothing but mindless savages, I have faith we will regain our minds eventually. And hopefully, in the centuries to come, discover this chamber, which holds the truth about your origins.


    Whatever you choose to do with the information, I beg you, do not forget it. For our tragedy will be bound to repeat.

 B2 Chapter 28

    Leeroy crawled out of the river, and once he was sure his chest would land on stone, he let his arms give out, flopping to the ground. As he rested, he could feel cold water lapping at his waist and dripping from his body, pooling beneath him. He assumed it was cold, but his skin had long since numbed to the point that he could no longer tell.


    Sucking in long ragged breaths, Leeroy calmed his racing heart and tried to relax his body. His day wasn''t even over yet, and he was feeling sore. Or he was cramping. He couldn''t really tell at the moment.


    After they leaped from the cliff into the cold river, the current swept Leeroy and the others along.


    The trip wasn''t a floating-on-your-back and relax-in-the-soothing-waters kind of trip either, as it demanded constant attention and struggle.


    A strand of psy could slow a fall enough to survive the hundred-foot drop, so long as those jumping weren''t trying to achieve the biggest bellyflop in history. And there was plenty of water to land in. The downside was the water was moving faster than a galloping horse.


    The Twins was a weird river. Everyone who lived around it knew that. Rivers in the Republic generally followed the rule of flowing north to south and west to east, but the Twins spit in the face of that rule.


    The southern fork of the river started farther south within the Weeping Mountains than where its end emptied into the Rush. The first stretch of that section of the river flowed north for a few hundred miles before nearly turning back on itself and flowing west.


    The reasons why had something to do with how the Steps were formed and the mountains acting as damns. But other than the facts everyone in the area knew, Leeroy didn''t bother to learn more about it.


    What he did know was that because of the extremely dense fog the Weeping Mountains were known for, the river was always between raging and a deluge of water. It didn''t help that the walls of this section of the Twins narrowed as they rose, going from hundreds to less than ninety feet across.


    Leeroy didn''t care to learn the quirk of geology or casting history that led to its formation. But he did look up once and think that this was what it must feel like to float at the bottom of a long-necked pitcher.


    Strange thoughts aside, what did concern Leeroy and the others was the higher the water rose, the faster it became, making the dangers of hitting the walls worse.


    There was very little debris in the water, as anything impeding its flow couldn''t hold up to the overwhelming force, but that didn''t mean it was easy to stay afloat. Constant waves were forming as the river turned, which seemed to build upon each other to create crashing waves that would try to swamp them.


    From trying to avoid smashing into the walls and getting a decent breath of air, it was a struggle not to drown. For a moment, Lun attempted to form a Union as they were all momentarily clumped together in the river''s center for more efficient use of psy, but it didn''t last long as they were quickly torn away.


    Short as the trip was, most of those who jumped into the river with Leeroy weren''t crawling out of it, not on this outcropping, at least. He could always hope they were somewhere downstream, but he cast it away even as the thought crossed his mind. Leeroy wasn''t one to dwell on the past and the decisions already made.


    Besides Leeroy and Jankens, only five others were crawling onto the small outcropping. The bowl-like slope of the shore and how the spray of the river kept everything wet added to the rock''s slipperiness meant that the farther one crawled, the more challenging it became.


    This was precisely why Leeroy still had his feet in the swift current, not because he was too lazy to crawl all the way out of the water.


    Not that Leeroy was complaining about the solid ground under him because it was a miracle it was there at all. The walls of this section of the river had opened up, and the water of the Twins slowed and swirled around the widened ravine a large whirlpool. Even the walls had a slight outward angle letting in more light.


    "Get out of the water Leeroy," Ordered Optio Lun. "We''re getting out of here."


    With a grunt of effort, Leeroy lifted his body up enough to get his arms under him and get a proper look at Lun. The first thing he saw was Jankens'' feet were just to the side of his face. Leeroy followed his legs up and down to his heaving chest facing the sky.


    Past Jankens was another figure with knees to his chest curled into a ball.


    For a moment, a wave of shame washed over Leeroy, as he was the only one who was still half in the water, not climbing up onto the granite ledge, but it quickly passed. Spending the effort to climb higher wasn''t worth it when they were destined to go back into the wat¡ª


    "We are climbing up the wall." Stated Optio Lun.


    Giving the Optio a blank stare, then glancing at the two legionaries with their back''s to the wall next to their Optio to make sure he didn''t hear things, Leeroy asked, "How would we do that? Sir."


    It was a stone wall. A smooth stone wall that the best handholds were the slight half circles denoting different water levels. Leeroy couldn''t imagine anyone climbing the walls unless their hands could stick to them. Opening his mouth to say as much, he snapped it shut with a click as he watched Lun pull back a fist and drive it forward.


    The resulting clack was like two stones smashing together.


    That might have been the sound, but the sudden cloud of rock dust around the Optio''s fist spoke to something else going on. And when he pulled back his fist, a piece of the wall fell away. It was only a few inches deep and wide, but it was more than enough for a foot to stand on.


    "My father quarried rocked for a living in the Steps. Not much of a call for it in the legions with all of the Knights, but I never forgot the trade. Not a glamorous life, but I always planned on going back to it after my service." He placed his hand on the stone, and this time there was a grinding, and powder started falling from his hand.


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    The steady stream of dust stopped after a few moments, and then there was nothing before another crack sounded, making Leeroy jump. Before he pulled his hand away, chunks of stone were clattering to the ground.


    With a few quick movements, the rubble was pulled from the hole, and Optio Lun was studying the wall even higher now.


    "It''s all about finding the weak points in the stone. A block might look solid, but there is always a weak point if you know where to look." At this point, Lun was talking more to himself, and his voice had fallen to little more than a murmur, but Leeroy could hear just fine.


    He and the others had stood up and moved to gather around Lun, watching him work. Though what they were really seeing was the hope of life manifesting itself before them. "Apply the proper force, and it will crumble with ease." At his words, he placed his hand on another spot and soon broke away from the wall revealing another handhold.


    When Lun reached out a mental strand probing Leeroy''s mind, he accepted it without hesitation. Offering Lun all of his psy and willpower he had.


    Climbing a multiple-hundred-foot wall was a monumental task. But huddling next to a cold river while the sun set and you were being hunted was asking for death.


    If you weren''t found and the cold didn''t kill you, then you would probably be too tired to survive another trip down the river.


    Getting out of this death trap was a now-or-never deal, and Lun was offering them their best chance.


    Foot after foot, Lun drove handholds into the rock. When the area he could reach on the ground disappeared, he started climbing up the wall.


    He would hang with one hand gripping the rock with both feet planted into a divot.


    None of the seven were at their best. Physically they could lie down a fall asleep in a second. Mentally, their willpower was petering out, and their psy was nothing but the last few drops in a wineskin.


    But they could still move, so they had the willpower to spare, and their psy was enough to form a strand.


    The psy strand was like a frayed rope. Nearly whole at one end, with the other shrinking to barely a string of wool.


    It was only together that Lun could continue to work, and they didn''t have enough psy to have the Optio far from them. So as he moved up the wall, the others climbed after him.


    Leeroy was the first to pull himself up the wall, but as soon as there was enough space, the others took their own spots.


    Climbing the wall wasn''t hard, almost like going up a ladder. Or a flight of stairs.


    A really steep flight of stairs that had a new step appear every minute. It was like standing in line waiting, except if they let go, they fall and die. So nothing to worry about.


    At first, Lun made quick progress up the wall. After fifty feet and over a hundred holes, he had slowed down to a crawl. It was lucky if he made one a minute. After the next fifty feet, he slowed down even more, settling into the grind.


    A weary resolve filled the union. Everyone was fighting the temptation of just giving up and accepting their death. Some might have if they were alone, but the thought of them being the reason for the rest of the remaining century dying kept them going. Everyone could feel that while they were all hurting, none of them were working as hard as Lun.


    He was the reason they had a chance, and so long as he kept going, so would they.


    By this point, the sun had gone down, and the stars were shining high in the sky as if they were mocking them for being down in a hole.


    While the lack of light was making climbing harder and causing Lun to curse as he struggled to find weak points in the rock, those weren''t the real problems.


    The cold was seeping into their bodies, and it was getting hard for everyone to take the next handhold up. Not because of the effort to lift their bodies, though that was an issue, but because of their tenuous grips on the stone divots.


    Lun, as tired as the rest of them and controlling the psy strand to drill out the stone, had almost fallen from his perch multiple times. The last time it was only thanks to Leeroy''s quick reaction of slamming his fist into the Optio''s ass ¡ª a moment he will always treasure ¡ª to push him back into the wall that Lun didn''t tumble from his perch.


    From then on, Lun started making other steps off to the sides, so Leeroy could place his feet astride his body, allowing Lun to lean against his chest as he made the next handhold.


    Time passed, and they slowly worked their way up the cliff.


    At some point, Leeroy started whispering encouragement. "We can do this. We''re almost there. Make one more, just one more."


    The others join in with the quiet prayers. And their faith in Lun shone through the link.


    Lun''s will might have been worn down to nearly nothing, but the faith in those who he commanded only grew.


    In their exhaustion-riddled minds, they knew, with every fiber of their being, that they would make it out of this alive. That all of their struggles wouldn''t be fruitless.


    It was insanity.


    But the insane can muster far more will than should be possible.


    So while Lun''s skill deteriorated, his tendril was backed by a sledgehammer rather than the toy that he was wielding before.


    Slow and steady, they climbed up the side of the wall.


    Then Lun stopped, slumping against Leeroy. Luckily, one of Leeroy''s arms was under Lun''s arm as he slumped over. Otherwise, Leeroy would have never caught him in time, as his mind was filled with fog.


    With some clarity returning to Leeroy''s eyes after he looked at Lun for a long moment, he looked up.


    They were close, so very close. Less than one of his body''s lengths away, and the slope of the rock face got to the point they could climb up it without needing handholds.


    But close didn''t matter. Six feet might as well have been as far away as the moon.


    Can we climb down? Leeroy thought to himself, No, we won''t make it, especially with Lun. Then what can we¡­ Huh.


    Leeroy still had the mental energy. Most of it, anyway.


    He couldn''t say exactly when, but they had entered into linked control of the psy. As the name implied, it was where everyone within the union had almost equal control over the psy in a mental link. There were many downsides and dangers to it, with the only real upside being that the death of one person wouldn''t cause the end of the union.


    Though it made sense, it would happen, as each of them was almost solely focused on keeping the tendril from breaking as it ran along the length of their bodies. No one had the willpower to care about the rest.


    Even now, Leeroy could feel the focus radiating off the others'' minds. There weren''t aware that Lun had collapsed, and if they learned about it, Leeroy could guess that they would collapse soon after. They had no choice but to continue.


    If Lun couldn''t, then Leeroy would do it. He had seen and felt how it was done more times than he could count over the last hours.


    Wrapping an arm around Lun''s waist, Leeroy let out a grunt of effort as he stepped up to the next hole, pulling the Optio along.


    Placing his hand on the wall, he pressed his psy into the stone while shaping it to look like a wide drill bit. Like the beating of a rapid drum, he started twisting it while driving it forward.


    Leeroy expected a struggle, but the stone crumbled away with ease. Like it was sand. When the psy was deep enough, he expanded the psy from inside the hole, causing the rock around it to crack.


    With a grunt effort, Leeroy moved on to the next.


    His usage of psy wasn''t nearly as efficient, but it didn''t matter.


    Half an hour later, even though he only had to make eight handholds, Leeroy was climbing up a slop of loosely packed dirt, dragging Lun behind him to get to the promised flat ground.


    As soon as he was sure they wouldn''t slide off the ledge, he collapsed to the ground, already asleep.

 B2 Chapter 29

    Leeroy worked his mouth and groaned as he tried to get comfortable. It was a mistake.


    As he moved, it was like his face pealed up from the ground, and he could sware that blood was dripping down an open wound on his cheek. After a few seconds, he realized it was numb prickles were running down his face. That fact, combined with his experience, told him that he had been lying on some rough surface for so long his cheek had become deformed, and its returning to normal was now painful.


    One of the first things a legionary learned was to sleep where and when they could. Sure, sleeping on soft dirt was better than stone. And if you could find a pile of pine needles, it would be a blessed night, but you took what you could get.


    Spots on his chest twinged as he rolled over to look up into the sky. From the sun''s position, Leeroy would guess it was three hours past sunrise.


    It was quite the late start for him, and judging from the snores around him, the rest of his remaining century. Legion doctrine demanded that the legion be awake an hour before sunrise while in hostile territory, as that hour was particularly dangerous.


    Any nearby beastkin would start their attacks at sunrise, and from what he heard around camps, it was not uncommon for the Imperium to launch an attack at that hour as well. Something about it just made the sentries on watch tired.


    Leeroy could attest to that, as he had suffered more than one whipping for falling asleep on watch. He tried not to, but sometimes he just couldn''t help it. He would feel so relaxed and sure that nothing would happen that night that his eyes would drift shut.


    As harsh as legion training was, there were times when everyone was pushed to the breaking point, and no matter the dangers, all precautions would be ignored.


    After climbing up the cliff face, it was only natural they had all collapsed.


    Leeroy only remembered crawling high enough so he wouldn''t slide back down the edge. The world always looked different in the light of day, but he was sure he was no longer where he collapsed.


    He was now inside a slight depression on the rock face. Lifting his body above the ridge, he quickly looked around before dropping down.


    This shore of the Twins was higher than the other, which was great. Because it made it easier to keep an eye on the other side of the river and anything that moved along it. But it also meant that this was the northern side of the river, and they needed to get across it to make it to Basetown.


    The only bridge over the twins was the Triad, hundreds of miles east of here. There were the fords slightly west of the Triad, but most people just traveled the extra distance. It was easier to walk over to a bridge than ford an unpredictable river that could tip a wagon at any moment.


    The reason why there was no other bridge was twofold. The people of the Cradle actively opposed the creation of a bridge and would sabotage it, proven by the few attempts Basetown made to create one. And the expense of keeping another legion around to man the bridge in case of a beast wave wasn''t worth it for the republic, as far as the senators were concerned.


    Most of the grain from the Cradle went south anyway, and the cost of traveling back up the river from the Triad was only a minor inconvenience. But every other generation, a merchant would get it in their head to try and create a bridge and was struck with the reality of human stubbornness.


    All of this was a long way to say that they were on the wrong side of the river, with few ways to make it back across without drowning.


    Well, if they could flag down a boat on the river, climb down the cliff face, and then get on the boat without the boat sinking or any of them dying. But that was something Leeroy would fight to prevent from happening. He would rather spend the next three months walking down and back up the river than climbing the cliff again.


    Leeroy didn''t know who found this dip and dragged him and the Optio into it, but he was grateful. If there was still someone looking for them on the other side of the river, then lying at the edge sleeping was a good way to stick out. And maybe get an arrow in the back.


    He could go scout, but Leeroy was nothing if not logical. His skills in scouting were trash. He could probably get close enough to a dear to shoot a bow at it¡­


    So long as he was within a hide, and it came right up next to him. And he learned how to shoot a bow.


    Sitting around and waiting for the others to wake up sounded like the best idea all around. Besides, it wasn''t his job to come up with a plan. Why was he even considering what to do next anyway?


    Moving a short distance away as stealthily as he could ¡ª by intentionally not kicking rocks around him ¡ª Leeroy relieved himself before returning and settling down.


    Digging into his pouches, he took out some jerky to gnaw on while taking a few sips of water. He wanted to eat and drink more, but while they were beside a river, getting more water into his skin would be hard. And unless they hunted, getting more food wasn''t looking good.


    Over the next hour, the five more men woke up and started performing roughly the same actions as Leeroy.


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    When everyone but one of their group was up, and with no signs of him waking over the last hour, someone had to do something. Decisions needed to be made before they could start moving.


    Through a complex series of grunts and rapid eye moments, it was decided that Leeroy would be the designated fool to wake up their commander.


    Leeroy didn''t know how other people woke up those who gave them orders, but he decided to be gentle. There was no point in making it more likely that he would be volunteered for something.


    "Optio Lun," Leeroy said softly as he shook his shoulder. "You have to get up."


    As Leeroy was shaking his shoulder again, Lun''s hand snapped up, grabbing his wrist. ¡°Wait¡­" His eyes were glazed over for a moment, then the Optio blinked, and his gaze was locked onto Leeroy. "Situation?" He asked.


    "We made it up the northern cliff face of the twins, then collapsed from exhaustion. Someone pulled us into this cover before we slept through the night. It''s about an hour from noon, and we need to get moving." Leeroy answered.


    Lun nodded in agreement, and as Leeroy sat back, his eyes swept over the other¡­ the best word would be "survivors" from their century.


    Everyone looked haggard. Their leather armor had scrap patches, either from arrows or rocks, while they tumbled through the water or climbed up the cliff. Their eyes had dark rings around them, as no one got enough sleep.


    Most of them didn''t even have a legionary''s best friends, including Leeroy, which were their swords and shields. No one had a shield. Only Drakus and Boik had their short sword, the lucky bastards. And one, Jankens, even was missing their belt knife. They were in no way ready for a fight.


    "Who attacked us, Optio?" Asked Jankans, voicing the question in all of their minds.


    No one said a word until Leeroy said, "I might be wrong," Making them all look at him. "But I would swear I saw an elf with dark skin."


    "When did you see this?" Asked Lun.


    "As we were charging into the forest, I got a look at one of the archers downed by a javelin."


    "So it was only for a moment?" Ask Leeroy''s nod, he continued, "So it could have been an elf with a shadow cast over their face."


    Hesitantly, Leeroy nodded, "I could be mistaken. But the face looked¡­ sharper than the other elves I have seen." Throwing out his arm and flicking his wrist, Leeroy discarded the point, "Dark skin or not, I clearly remember the ears. They were far too pointy to be human."


    "Elves are rebelling?" Drakus rumbled from where he sat, his strong jaw clenched in anger at those who had died.


    "No," Lun stated confidently. "I have never seen an elf so much as disobey an order, let alone try to stir up a rebellion. If anything, they are just following orders¡­" Lun trailed off as he spoke, and a heavy silence fell over the group.


    Shaking off the oppressive silence, Lun rubbed his neck and sighed. Then with little more than a stretch, Optio Lun popped to his feet and said, "Whatever is going on, we have our orders. We move downriver to Basetown while staying below the ridge." Then he turned and started marching downstream, his back straight.


    "Yes, Optio." The other six said as they got up to follow. They didn''t ask questions as they acted, Lun might be new to his position, but he had more than earned their trust after last night.


    In a loose line, they traveled down the river. There was no road on this side of the river. The only thing close to it was what looked like the occasional game trail they could follow for a bit before it ended.


    Not that they needed it. The rocky ground allowed little more than shrubs that scraped at the knees of those walking through them. The worst part was the rocks the plants hid, making their footing precarious.


    They tried their best to remain hidden, ensuring they never looked over the ridge. So long as they couldn''t see the other side of the river, that side couldn''t see them, right?


    When there was a change in the landscape, and it was clear that they would be visible to the other shore, Leeroy and the others wouldn''t go out of their way to hide, like crawling on the ground or backtracking until they could skirt around a nearby hill farther back. But they would pick up the pace through the open areas to make their visibility as short as possible.


    If any of their attackers saw them, they could come up with any number of reasons other than the truth for them traveling along the shore.


    Hours passed, and the sun moved until it was beating down on them from overhead.


    The sweat covering their body collected the dust the party was kicking up as they walked overland, making everyone uncomfortable, but no one voiced a complaint. No matter how they felt, they were still alive. Many they knew couldn''t say the same.


    Leeroy and the others from his century ¡ª more of a squad now ¡ª were walking up the side of a large rock outcropping.


    They had been making their way up it for half an hour, and now they could look down the other side. The slope of the mini-mountain continued until their side dropped below the side of the river.


    The surface of the river was still dozens of feet down, but now it wasn''t hundreds.


    "This is the back of the Nose, right?" Leeroy asked anyone willing to answer.


    "Has to be," Lun said after a few moments of looking around. "I can''t think of another rock so large around here. Leeroy, since you seem so interested, let''s go take a look at Basetown from the peak."


    With the other snickering at his misfortune behind his back, Leeroy murmured, "Yes, Optio." as they started to make their way up the cliff face.


    They didn''t have that far to climb. After all, most of the height of a nose was on the sides, not along the bridge.


    Leeroy couldn''t help himself from chuckling under his breath. As legend had it, this outcropping existed when Basetown was first founded.


    As the sun set one night, a man looked at the mountain across the river and said, "T''at mountain looks like ta nose of ''er giant lying down, don''t it?"


    Lo and behold, the next morning, the camp awoke with two holes formed in the front of the mountain. The legend might or might not be true, but everyone agrees that when Basetown was founded, the Nose didn''t have knight-crafted holes in its front. As far as Leeroy was concerned, that crafting was some of the finest crafting a knight had ever done.


    As he walked up to the ledge overlooking the lands around Basetown, Leeroy spotted some figures moving along its walls.


    "Drop!" Snapped Lun, and Leeroy threw his legs back, slamming his chest into the rough stone.


    Turning to ask what was wrong, the words lodged in Leeroy''s throat.


    Along the banks of the Twins was a large camp. A camp that was obviously military in nature. And also, obviously, not a legion camp. And those weren''t legion banners.


    Despite an army outside their walls, Basetown didn''t look like it was concerned at all.


    "What in the Void is going on here, Optio?"


    "I haven''t the faintest idea, legionary," Lun said, his voice grim, "But someone needs to find out."

 B2 Chapter 30

    The road laid out before me was marked by two ruts in the earth. The sides were overgrown with tall grass scraping at anyone who dared to draw near to the road''s edge. Down the center of the road was a smaller, almost wilted line of grass, struggling to survive in the slightly less compact dirt.


    I knew the landscape would remain the same even if I closed my eyes for an hour and continued walking because it hadn''t changed in the last two days. Well, that''s not entirely true.


    The Twins had become shallow and was over a mile wide at the moment. It made sense, as we were currently in the center of the fords. And if we continued traveling down it for a week or so, we would start to see the banks of the river rise and become narrower as the ground became rockier.


    Not to mention that we were now at the intersection of the banks of the Twins and what would typically be a decent-sized river, but compared to the Twins, the Little Brook looked more like a stream.


    Turning towards the Broken Peaks, I looked at the backs of the rest of my traveling companions. There was Kanieta, her cousin, the bearkin, and Franklin.


    What surprised me was that Kanieta was coming with us. I experienced her skills firsthand when we traveled through the forest, so I didn''t doubt them.


    But Kanieta was the leader of her faction, chieftain of her clan, and seemed to be one of the central figures of the new coalition leading the Kin. It would seem like she had better things to do than wander around the wilderness.


    Finding and killing Derg was important.


    If nothing else, the days of travel had taught him that.


    There weren''t many farms lining the road leading into the Cradle, but off to the side, usually closer to the river, you would see a cluster of buildings.


    That is, you would have seen a cluster of buildings if you walked this road in the past.


    Now they were nothing but charred stumps surrounded by burned fields. They hadn''t even encountered any bands of Kin, a fact that Kanieta was worried about.


    Because there were supposed to be warbands, they were sent out to pacify and control the area.


    She hadn''t outright said it, but with how she looked at every scorched field we came across, I could guess why she sent out the warbands to subdue the Cradle.


    They needed the food.


    You can only carry so much while fleeing your home, and given the numbers they were dealing with, a single mistake could spell the deaths of thousands by starvation.


    True, the Kin seemed to be an all-around more hardy lot than humans or elves, but everything needed to eat.


    With every day that passed where we encountered only destruction and isolation, I was getting more on edge. It wasn''t natural, and I could see that everyone else was feeling the same.


    It was like death was in the air.


    I knew a warband was coming up behind us, but with how they now had to defend their new city after losing a significant number of their warriors, it would take some time to reorganize.


    Scouting is what I do, so this was nothing new. I just never thought it would be scouting for the beastkin. Or that I would be covering this much distance.


    With my absurd level of mental energy recovery, I could keep up a pace that I doubted even the strongest casters in Olimpia could match. So long as they were running on land alone. With their raw power, they could fly and cover more distance in minutes than I could in a day. But forty miles a day was pretty great as far as I was concerned. And it was great practice.


    "Why isn''t there a legion out here protecting the Crafters." Asked Franklin as I caught up to him again. To everyone''s surprise, I was not the one we had to wait for.


    The title of slowest in the group belonged to Franklin and the Bear.


    ¡°It¡¯s¡­ complicated," I said with a sigh.


    "That you would abandon your own people to be sacrificed because you are afraid of death?" Franklin asked with a definite edge to his voice.


    "No, more like they aren''t technically part of the Republic."


    "Care to explain that?" Kanieta asked, looking over at him with interest.


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    "I guess it''s a way to pass the time," I said indifferently. "The Cradle was first colonized by the 18th Legion about five hundred years ago. It was unlucky timing because as soon as they were established, a beastwave fell upon the Northern Line. They couldn''t make it through the hoards of beastkin for support, but they didn''t need to. During the years they spent up here, there had a small but steady supply of beastkin attacking their forts. Apparently, the Cradle has few passages through the Broken Peaks for the beastkin to travel through."


    "I can confirm that," Kanieta said, "As I scouted for a path south, I did notice how hard it was to get into the eastern side of this mountain range. If there was a path, it would have made everything so much easier."


    "Not as much as you would think," I commented, getting a surprised look from her. "After the wave, the legion was practically untouched, but it was the only one as it was a particularly harsh wave. Right after the beastwave, the Imperials saw weakness and assaulted Pantia. The Republic had to pull the 18th to support the city. After everything settled down a decade later, many of the surviving legionaries of the 18th decided they were tired of taking orders and wanted to govern themselves like the Isles. So they moved back to the old forts they built years ago with their families. Over the years, more legionaries have moved up there."


    "Your Republic never tried to regain control?" Kanieta asked.


    "They did, several times. But the Cradlers ended up building fortresses. Every old village is a massive single complex below and above ground surrounded by farms and watch towers. When they grew too large, the inhabitance split and formed another fortress. With the constant stream of beastkin, they found it was the best way to live."


    "What? I haven''t had any reports of such structures."


    "Really?" I asked in surprise, "I thought you scouted us for years and even raided us on occasion."


    "Only from the Northern Forest to the Great Lake." Answered Kanieta, "Some tribes went into the Weeping Mountains to the far east past the Twins, but it is a long trip hardly worth the journey. But like I said before, the passages through the Cradle¡¯s section of mountains are treacherous at best, even for us. Any path along the mountain¡¯s sides are narrow, and the valleys below them were filled with the Lost."


    "Hmm," I said in thought, "I''ve been meaning to ask, what are the Lost? No one has quite explained it to me."


    She looked slightly conflicted and hesitated to answer, but Franklin had no such qualms. "They are the ones who act solely on base instinct, what you call beastkin. In many ways, that statement isn''t wrong, but it only conveys a fraction of our history." Franklin sounded oddly serious, and his eyes were glazed over as if he wasn''t looking at our surroundings.


    Then he blinked, and the look of contemplation was gone, replaced by his usual easy-going optimism. "Every Kin is capable of rational thought, but a Lost''s mana is uncontrolled. There is no distinction between the Losts mana and the worlds, and their minds are overwhelmed by feeling it all at once. On rare occasions, one of the Lost will bear or develop the ability to separate their mind from the world and gain the ability to have more than a single thought in a moment. We have developed a spell that will force the change on the Lost, though they are still driven by their instincts more than those Kin born to a mother who passes on her control of mana."


    "Is that what the Enlightenment Spell is?" I asked.


    "Yep."


    ¡°Huh¡­" I grunted, "That''s interesting."


    "So, why isn''t the Cradle part of your Republic?" Kanieta asked, cutting into my train of thought and putting me back onto the original topic. "And the fortresses?"


    "Ahh? Oh. Well, the Cradlers didn''t want to be ruled, so they moved north to nearly the base of the Broken Peaks. In the early days, there was a shadow war where if anyone tried to build a bridge, it would be destroyed. Because everyone living there was in a harsh environment with constant struggle, they would basically be fighting a legion cohort to take every fort. Some small attempts were made, but they were all failures. By the time the Republic had the resources to make the push of multiple legions to take them, everyone had realized it wasn''t worth it."


    Taking a sip of water as I looked around, I continued, "The Northern Line had become all but forgotten and a relic of the past. Beastwaves were multiple decades apart, and it was clear they were decreasing in intensity. The war with the Imperium was intensifying, and no one wanted to spend the resources to take a territory that didn''t want to be held. An area that was taxed when they sold their grains and fruit at a market and needed no protection. Over the years, those who wanted to escape the Republic came up here, creating their own farms farther south of the fortresses of the first settlers, but whenever anything threatened the Cradle, they would all flee to the strongholds to the north. Most of their youth also join the legion for a term of service."


    Giving a shrug of indifference, I said, "At this point, most legions have a portion of their numbers as Cradlers who won''t stand for their home to be conquered, especially when some are even strong enough to be comparable to City Lords. And the Republic doesn''t want to exert the effort to push into the mountains full of beastkin, so there was no reason to try. And historically, few beastkins continue east after arriving at the fords past the Triad, so those of the Cradle don''t care about trying to get the Republic to protect them. But now¡­" I trailed off, unsure of what to say.


    "But with us changing everything, that might not be the case any longer." Stated Kanieta.


    I nodded at her comment, and we fell into silence. It wasn''t quite a companionable silence, but it was close, and no one felt the need to break it as we traveled.


    A few hours later, I caught sight of our destination. At first, all there was to see was a dip in the plains. Like someone walked up with a bowl the size of a mountain and scooped out a portion of the plains.


    My steps slowed as I approached the edge of the basin. I knew, without any doubt in my mind, what lay below, and I didn''t want to see it. So long as I could prevent myself from seeing the sight, I could convince myself I might be wrong.


    At the same time, I couldn''t turn away. I was like a bolder, creeping to a stop at the bottom of a hill, my steps never faltering until I arrived at my destination. But it didn''t mean I had to see, as my eyes remained unfocused. Minutes passed, and I finally confronted what was before me.


    I was numb as I stood at the edge of the basin, looking down.


    Ash and blood were all I saw.


    I didn''t know these people, and I wasn''t even supposed to protect them, but I wouldn''t stand here and do nothing while the blood golems dotting the valley and charred buildings desecrated their memory.

 B2 Chapter 31

    Leeroy''s attention was only locked onto the army for a moment before his head snapped to the side, digging his chin into his shoulder. He wasn''t looking at the bank of the river but at a patch of rocks off to his side.


    The stones looked like they were randomly stacked upon each other, like any other pile of rocks Leeroy had ever seen, but something about it felt off. He squinted his eyes as if he could pierce the darkness between the stones with his force of will alone, but no matter how much Leeroy searched, he saw nothing.


    It should have been a relief, but he grew more uncomfortable with every frantic beat of his heart. Like his life was hanging by a thread, and he was watching a knife flashing in the light next to it.


    His feelings of danger grew until Leeroy had to act.


    Throwing his body off the ground with a grunt and mighty thrust of his arms, Leeroy scrambled to get his feet under him. The feeling of danger was so great that he even used some psy to propel himself into nearly a sprint over the uneven ground.


    As he approached the piled-together rocks, he thought he saw a frantic shifting within the shadows, as if a creature was moving around within them. It was all the confirmation Leeroy needed, but his gut feeling was confirmed when he heard the clattering of wood on the stone echo from the hidden chamber.


    Ten feet from the outpost, because what else could it be, Leeroy pulled out his belt knife mid-stride and threw it underhand into the shadows with a snap of his wrist.


    As he took his next step, he watched his knife vanish into the gap of darkness. A twang of a taught string snapping sounded within the stone chamber, and he heard a high-pitched "Ahh!" of pain echo from the cave a moment after.


    Scrambling to keep his footing as he tried to come to a survivable stop, Leeroy dropped to his knees and slid the last two feet over the loose gravel of the hillside, using the stone outpost as his backstop. Even as he was coming to a stop, his left arm reached into the eight-inch wide gap, grasping around blindly.


    Leeroy''s hand connected with something warm almost instantly, and he tried to grab onto it. Digging his fingernails into the creature''s flesh, he pulled himself back with his right arm and knees, trying to yank the creature out of its burrow.


    It was barely half a second before the creature''s flailing tore its body part from his grasp, causing Leeroy to roll into his backside, landing on uncomfortably pointed stones. As he fell back, he felt a tugging on his hand as his fingernails scraped over the creature''s skin, gouging off a layer of flesh that collected under his nails.


    At the same time, Leeroy felt a moment of thankfulness that he had lost his grip on the creature. As he felt a hot, humid gust on his arm and could have sworn he heard the sharp rap of fanged teeth snapping shut on air. That was a moment before he felt something dig into his arm in an attempt to stop it from leaving.


    Ignoring the injury, Leeroy rolled out of the way of the opening once he hit the ground. He kept rolling around the outcropping, not even noticing what he was rolling over, only stopping once he was behind one of the rocks that acted as its walls.


    Hopping to his feet, he rushed towards the rocks again. This time, he bounded up the four-foot-tall stacked stones, pausing for a moment as he balanced on their peak, looking down.


    Flicking out his hand, Leeroy shot a tendril out of it to wrap around the outermost layered stone and threw it to the side.


    Even as the stone was tumbling a short distance away, Leeroy was falling and turning to face the hole.


    The sun shone over his shoulder, filling the small chamber with light, and Leeroy paused.


    As soon as light filled the chamber, the creature ¡ª and creature was the right word because it was not human, elf, or beastkin ¡ª pulled back into the farthest corner of the hide from the new entrance. The creature''s skin was a dull black, and as it pulled itself into the corner where shadows still remained, it was like its skin sucked up the light.


    Its eyes were large black orbs, slightly larger than a peach pit. On the creature''s hands were claws at least an inch long. The creature''s chest was covered in a simple hardened leather chest piece, with its waist and upper legs covered in layered leather strips.


    Moving his gaze to the chamber, he saw it was at most four feet high and three wide. Putting the creature well within a lunge for Leeroy, but it was already too late.


    The pause he took while taking in the lookout destroyed any momentum Leeroy had created.


    As Leeroy restarted his halting lunge to dive into the small chamber, the creature''s arms covering his face had lowered, giving him a clear view of the bloody laceration stretching from its oily hairline to mid-cheek. Its right eye might be a bloody mess, but the sight only added to its snarling visage as it bared its needle-sharp teeth at Leeroy.


    Tumbling backward, Leeroy scrambled to get some distance between himself and his enemy. Not because of the teeth or the claws but because of the long knife the creature was driving towards his chest.


    As the creature''s head popped out of its hole, its good eye squinted, and it flinched, making its downward slash pull back slightly.


    The stutter made the slash that might have opened Leeroy up from chest to hip ¡ª which was not a certainty thanks to Leeroy''s leather chest piece ¡ª fall short. With another snarl of frustration, the creature stepped forward again. This time to drive his knife into Leeroy''s gut as he tried to scurry back and regain his footing.


    Seeing he wasn''t getting away, Leeroy swept up his leg in a desperate attempt to knock the knife out of the creature''s hands, but he missed.


    Because Lun had charged up while neither of the two was paying attention and smashed a rock into the side of the creature''s head. Even once the small creature had collapsed, Lun gave it another couple of whacks until the deformation was obvious enough to make it clear it was dead.


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    Leeroy calmed his racing heart as he sat back on his elbows, taking in Lun as he stood tall, blood-stained rock clutched in his white-knuckled hand.


    His Optio took a few heaving breaths, looking down at the creature with a caved-in head, then dropped the stone with a clatter and turned to Leeroy. "You okay?" He asked.


    Leeroy''s throat was tight from the suddenness and intensity of the fight, so he could only nod his head in answer. Lun''s eyes raked over him once, then he nodded before kneeling down and starting to pat down the creature before sticking his head into the little hideout.


    As this was far from his first fight, Leeroy only took a few more moments to calm down before moving to pick up the long knife before standing. As Optio Lun searched the chamber, Leeroy crouched by the entrance keeping a wary eye on his surroundings.


    The barren rock of the hillside was no longer looking so empty. Leeroy was searching every clump of rocks, trying to spot where the other watchers were hiding.


    No one ever sent just one person to be on watch.


    As he searched, his eyes kept flicking down to the creature. The longer he looked at the creature, the more old tails from prospectors ran through his mind.


    If you lived around Basetown, you knew a prospector or two. If you ever went to an inn for a drink, you heard a few of their tails. The oldest ones, those who go deep into the Weeping Mountains and into its caverns, they told different stories than the rest.


    Most of those stories revolved around creatures living in the bones of the world, whose skin and eyes were like night. They flooded whole tunnels with their numbers, and the only escape from their hooting calls was to flee into the light.


    They called them goblins.


    Leeroy had never put much stock in their tails¡­ It''s an appropriate name for them.


    "Let''s move, Leeroy," Lun said in a hush, pulling Leeroy from his thoughts.


    Glancing over his shoulder, Leeroy saw Lun''s eyes were also searching the rocks and scrubs dotting the Nose. Over his shoulder was a strap of a bulging pack hanging at his waist he definitely didn''t have before.


    Ignoring the pack, Leeroy took a moment to remove the sheath on the creature''s waist before rising and signaling to Lun he was ready. As he stood, Lun tossed Leeroy his belt knife before turning away.


    Together, as silently as they could manage without affecting their speed, the duo moved down the bridge of the Nose.


    Minutes passed as they traveled, and it wasn''t until Leeroy missed his step and had his foot slide out from under him, almost sending him tumbling down the mountain, that the two were forced to stop and look at each other.


    "Whoa there." Optio Lun said, finally breaking their silence, reaching out for Leeroy, "We can''t afford anyone to get injured now. Let''s slow down a bit. We made it up there on this path without being spotted. We should be able to make it down."


    ¡°¡­Did we?" Leeroy asked.


    He saw Lun open his mouth to answer, but he closed it without saying a word as his eyes flicked around warily. Finally, he turned to Leeroy fully and said, his voice filled with resolve, "Maybe we weren''t, but they seem content to let us be for now. We have no reason to squander that advantage."


    "Yes, Optio," Leeroy said, slamming his fist to his chest.


    As they reached the others, who had cleared the ground enough that they had areas to comfortably lounge, Optio Lun snapped, "Get up. We''re moving into the Cradle." while marching past them.


    The other five had little more than the clothes on their back, so all it took for them to be ready to move was a few quick motions to close any pouches and get to their feet.


    Telling a group of legionaries who were settling down and relaxing to get up should create a few groans of disapproval, at the least. Usually, there were a few shouts and muttered comments about being worked like dogs.


    No one said a word this time, and their faces set into grim masks, their eyes searching for danger. They knew what the tone and set of Optio Lun''s face meant.


    "What happened?" Asked Jankens as he stepped next to Leeroy. From how everyone''s head turned or tilted slightly toward him, he could tell everyone was paying attention to his answer.


    It wasn''t the time to get into a complex question-and-answer session, so Leeroy decided to answer simply, "We found a scout but aren''t sure if he got a warning out or not."


    No one needed anything else to be said.


    Those clumped to the side picked up the pace to catch up to Lun, falling into line behind him.


    Hours passed as they marched, and soon day was turning into night, with no sign of any pursuit.


    They had made their way down the mostly barren Nose and into the grasslands which lay at its base.


    It really was quite the contrast. All you had to do was walk a few miles from the rock canyon that made up the banks of the Twins, and you were in grasslands. Make it into the rolling foothills that spread all the way up to the base of the Broken Peaks, and you would find land that any farmer would be proud to own. So long as you ignored the constant minor threat from beastkin.


    Night was barely a couple hours away when they crested the first foothill. Leeroy looked back at the Nose and felt a shiver run down his spine.


    On the eastern side of the Nose, where the darkness of night had already fallen, he would have sworn he saw forms crawling through the shadows.


    Tuning away, Leeroy picked up the pace slightly. They needed to move faster.


    Leeroy''s sudden urgency didn''t go unnoticed by the others, and without anyone saying a word, they all picked up the pace. Heavy breaths were all that could be heard as sweat beaded and ran down their brows, but no one complained as they started across the slightly wooded valley.


    Night had fallen across the world by the time they were making their way up the next hill, and Leeroy stopped cold mid-step, causing half of the squad to halt as well as he turned to look at the hill behind them.


    The half-moon was lighting up the landscape with spots of darkness as clouds drifted through the sky.


    One such spot of darkness covered the top of the hill behind them. As Leeroy turned to look at it, the clouds overhead parted, revealing the summit.


    Dozens of hunched figures stood upon it, and as they were revealed by the moon, they charged forward into the valley. Every leading figure was followed by what seemed like an endless number of their kind.


    "Move your asses!" Shouted Leeroy as he turned and shot up their line. Jankens was right behind him, the first to react to his call, though the others were quick to follow.


    Even Optio Lun, who was turning to shout at them for breaking the night''s silence, had his face go white as a sheet when he saw what was now behind them.


    There were no orders to give, as the hope of going unnoticed had been stamped into non-existence, and fighting was death. All they could do was blindly charge forward, and there was no one better at that than Leeroy.


    Ten feet from the top of the hill, Leeroy suddenly turned to start running east along its length.


    Leeroy didn''t know why he changed directions, but no one could convince him that it was the wrong thing to do.


    Hoots filled the valley, like every tree now held an owl within its branches, and they all decided to kick up a racket at once.


    Leeroy ignored the noise as his eyes were locked on a single tree ahead. Along the whole length of the hilltop, it was one of the few trees trying to eke out its existence this high up.


    As they approached the tree, their footsteps were hidden by the racket of their pursuers. Peeling itself from the tree like a layer of bark, a figure stepped from the side of the tree, its head slowly turning. Without hesitation, Leeroy pulled out his long knife and rushed forward as the figure was distracted, jamming the blade into the figure''s gut.


    There was a grunt of surprise, then a pained howl ripped through the night. Pulling out his weapon with a twist, Leeroy slashed across the beastkins throat as it bent down in pain, cutting the howl short.


    Stumbling up to the summit of the hill, Leeroy looked over its edge seeing glowing yellow eyes charging up the hill from a forest. On the other, figures that had more in common with shadows than substance were flickering through the moonlight.


    "What do we do now," Asked Jankens, his head turning left then right. Before Leeroy could answer, the howls of hundreds of wolves thundered across the night.

 B2 Chapter 32

    Creeping down the hill, Leeroy and the others kept glancing over their shoulders. As much as they wanted to look back and confirm once again they weren''t being chased, their eyes were drawn to the dangers awaiting them in the forest below.


    Leeroy didn''t know how to feel. The night was alive with movements from the beastkins and goblins. Shadowy forms of creatures ran through the moonlit grass and flickered between the trees everywhere he looked. And his ears were filled with the snarls, screams, and gurgles of mortal combat.


    And yet, as the small band of humans ran along the ridge line and then down its slope to escape the clash of the two forces, they were entirely ignored. Not even so much as an arrow or individual chased after them once the two forces saw each other.


    Halfway down the hill, Leeroy felt the need to hide in a small cluster of trees to wait. He thought the fighting would soon blow over, but he was wrong. The beastkins were pushed from the hilltop back down the slope into the valley, with the goblins following close behind. Any thoughts of continuing to hide vanished when a second, then a third group of goblins flowed past the hiding humans while the howls of beastkins grew in number.


    Their only option was to try and sneak into the forest. Occasionally, they would stumble into a fight or the remnants of one marked by bodies. But for the most part, all they could do was watch what looked like a minor skirmish between two forces turning into a full-blown battle.


    The ferocity the two were engaging each other with was¡­ inhuman. Leeroy had never seen such hatred between foes. Not even those legionaries who spoke of their time fighting against the Imperium had such a look in their eyes.


    And for those who fought against beastkin, the worst you saw in their eyes was disgust, as who could hate a rabid animal? They were acting within their nature, and putting them down was considered the greatest mercy.


    That might be the typical mindset, but it doesn''t seem to apply now. These beastkins were showing plenty of aggression, but there was also something different about them.


    A beastkin stumbled from behind a tree into the gap in the forest they were running for, her hands clutching her waist. It was too late to turn away, so Leeroy pulled back his arm to thrust his dagger into the beastkin''s throat.


    As Leeroy was about to enter arms reach, two dark figures leaped at the beastkin from the other side of the tree, knocking her over in a tumble of squirming limbs and snarls.


    Turning from where the figures charged from, Leeroy swept up his right arm as motion caught his eye. Leeroy''s slash connected with nothing but air.


    The attack might not have hit anything, but it momentarily made the goblin pull back.


    "You''re covered." Sent Lun as Leeroy recovered from his warding attack. Trusting his Optio, Leeroy turned to jog between the scrabbling pile and the goblin with the spear into the forest.


    Thinking he was wide open, the creature hooted in joy and moved to bury his spear in Leeroy''s side, but before it could move an inch, the short spears of Kelv and Jankens stabbed into his gut and throat before they yanked their weapons out with a twist making the wounds wider.


    Leeroy felt something warm splatter against his arm, and he turned to look, seeing a spray of blood coming from the collapsing goblin''s neck. His eyes only lingered on the wound briefly before moving to the spear clutched within the creature''s claws.


    The thought of figuring out how to strap it to his back passed through his mind, but he quickly dismissed it. It would take too long, and he would rather have his long knife while leading the group through the forest, as there was little chance of it getting caught on a branch.


    Quickly stepping past the struggling figures, Jankens and the others followed Leeroy into the forest, their heads sweeping for danger.


    Sweat and smoke stung Leeroy''s eyes, but he could not close them. He would miss something, and it would be the death of them all.


    A boom as if a knight ignis had created an inferno shook the air a moment after a flash of red light lit up the darkness. Within Leeroy taking a couple of steps, the trees around him began taking on a bit more detail.


    Off in the direction of the explosion, the ominous red glow of fire seeped among the trunks of trees. The fire joined the half dozen other fires burning in the night all around them.


    Changing directions slightly, Leeroy led the group around a cluster of fighting figures.


    When in the middle of a fight at night in a forest, it was easy to miss a figure a dozen feet away moving behind a tree and the smoke hanging in the air. But with the entire valley filled with combatants, making it more than ten feet without participating in or skirting a fight was a miracle.


    This valley the armies of goblins and beastkins were pouring into wasn''t that large. It might be five miles from the base of one hillside to the other at the widest section. Leeroy might be wrong, as the valley also seemed to be shaped like an ''L,'' making an entire section beyond his sight, but from what he had seen so far, he was right.


    The only reason they were still alive with all of the beastkins in the valley was that there were as many, if not more, goblins here as well. And whenever one of them spotted us humans and decided to chase us, they were set upon by the other side.


    And as soon as the goblins and beastkins came into contact, they completely forgot about Leeroy and the others.


    Slipping away from their inevitable clashes was as simple as sprinting in a single direction.


    The problem lay with the continuous streams coming from the north and south, making moving in any one direction for long nearly impossible as the battlelines shifted.


    The goblins had the upper hand in the battle at first, pushing the beastkins ¡ª most of whom looked to be wearing armor and were as organized as any century, but that was a whole other problem for later ¡ª from the top of the foothill into the wooded valley.


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    As they were engaged, howls pierced the night, followed quickly by the blaring of deep reverberating horns sounding in a pattern.


    Leeroy and his squad made it into the forest by then, and it was becoming clear that the situation was ballooning into a full-scale battle.


    The southern hillside closest to the Twins had a wall raised along its top, with towers interspersed along its length. Within the sections of the hill where walls hadn''t been formed, bands of goblins were gathering together before marching into the valley or standing guard.


    The valley''s northern side didn''t have walls built along its length. Then again, who needs a wall when house-sized chunks of earth are being ripped from the ground and thrown across the valley onto the opposing hillside or anything marching up it?


    When you really think about it, what is the difference between a fifty-foot wall and a fifty-foot hole? If you are strong enough, a person can jump over either of them, but that leaves them with the problem of hanging in the air as archers and javelin throwers stand ready.


    Not many would be willing to make themselves so vulnerable.


    Leeroy looked in a direction and started leading the squad in that direction. Lun had basically handed over command to Leeroy for the night. Not that he had a choice.


    The lines of battle were spreading along both hillsides, with each side trying to secure their position to avoid being flanked or flank the enemy, whichever was more pressing at the moment.


    At first, they tried to run right across the valley, but it became clear fast that would only get them killed. And so would staying in any single spot.


    Running down the length of the valley, hoping to get away from the fighting, was their only hope. There were no commands to give, and if Lun, who had endeared himself to his remaining men within his short period of command, gave any order other than follow Leeroy, he would learn what the commanders meant when they say, ''never give an order you know won''t be followed.''


    Over the many close calls and quick, brutal fights they had while running down the valley''s center, they all had picked up a few new weapons. Jankens even got a legion short sword off a beastkin. While they were now close to being properly armed, they also picked up injuries.


    They might be in a union and used to fighting beastkin, but it was a rare fight that transpired without some scars left from the event. And that was when they had all of the advantages. Always having all of the advantages within this forest was impossible.


    "Caww!" cried a predator overhead, cracking the air like a bolt of lightning. Leeroy couldn''t help but flinch and look up, searching for the creature that created the noise.


    "The fucking birds are here too?" Leeroy heard Kelv ask in horror. "When was the last time a legion encountered them?"


    "Shut up!" Barked Lun, "Something will hear¡­" Lun''s words trailed off, and we all turned to look up because the sun was now hanging in the sky.


    Above, thousands of birds in progressively widening rings flew around a central fire. They dipped, spun, and rose in a dance only they knew. As they moved, shadows and golden-red rays from the fire flickered over the birds farther out, making a flickering sea of shadows and light stretch over the sky.


    With another scream from one of the birds, the ball of fire fell to the earth like the sun descending onto the world. As it fell, Leeroy could hear and feel a woosh as the fireball sucked up the air, doubling in size again and again. The air around it shimmered and warped, and even standing this far below, the popping noise it made was like he was standing next to a bonfire.


    Then a shudder ran through the world, and it was like Leeroy was being suppressed by the iron will of a city lord, forcing him and the others to the ground. He could feel a mild annoyance from the suppressive will, then the world flickered.


    The raging inferno fell from the sky like the fist of a fire elemental, and it was headed right toward the center of the formations on the northern hillside of the valley.


    A caw of annoyance rang out overhead, and halfway through the descent of the beastkins'' conjured fiery death, the fake sun exploded into countless fireballs spreading out over the sky like an umbrella. There were so many overlapping fire trails that it was like the sky was burning.


    ¡°Run¡­" Leeroy gasped through his tight throat as he forced his head to turn away, making his legs step in the direction that called to him. As he turned and fire still blanketed the sky, he saw another golden-red incandescent sun spark to life in the center of the massive flock of birds.


    Leeroy could see and feel through the mental links that those around him were still in shock from the recent events. Even Jankens was in a stooper, unable to follow Leeroy as he moved his feet from a shuffle to a jog.


    "Run~!" Shouted and sent Leeroy to the point he felt his voice crack. "Move your asses!"


    Lun was the first to snap out of his shock and quickly took up the call as he started to move after Leeroy.


    The world was burning.


    Tongues of fire fall through the burning trees onto the green grass below, making it hiss and pop as its water boiled. Embers and ash drift so thickly on every gust of wind that it takes a perfect moment to see more than ten feet away. And it was like the sky suddenly had a roof, as when Leeroy looked up, the smoke was billowing down like a curtain falling over a play.


    But still, as Leeroy led the squad through the fire, the battle raged around them. If anything, the light only added to the intensity of the fighting.


    New figures began to burst from the glowing smoke, beastkins who glowed faint blue and dark-cloaked figures wielding long swords. The dark-cloaked figures weren''t quite as tall as some of the elves Leeroy knew, but they were taller than the average human. However, all of them seemed to have slender figures.


    Delicate looking as they might be, Leeroy wanted nothing to do with them or the glowing beastkin.


    He saw a beastkin rip a tree from the ground and use it as a club. And he saw the¡­ if he had to put a word on it, dark elves, if that made sense. Whatever they were, they had the ability to disappear one moment and appear in another spot the next with no sign of traveling the intervening distance. He also saw some of them standing over a group of beastkin, with blood pouring out of every hole in the beastkin''s faces as they writhed in agony on the ground.


    This entire battle and every event happing within it was outside of Leeroy''s pay grade, and he was damn well tired of running around the center of it.


    It was only luck that every time they ran into one group, not in combat, whether it was beastkin or goblins and dark elves, by the time they had taken a half step towards them, their real enemy popped out of the woods charging and screaming murder.


    Close call after close call happened, and soon Leeroy was numb from it all. He had long since lost track of how many times he had backtracked, skirted, and waited out fights in the burning forest.


    Burning sweat mixed with ash was a constant annoyance to his eyes. His chest burned as he gasped for a single breath of fresh air, and he was sure his arms were covered in more than a few burns from the river of embers falling from overhead.


    After hours, the forest was finally starting to turn dark, and there were no longer fires burning at their feet. Toward the end of their flight, the exhaustion was getting to Leeroy, and he began seeing the faces of old friends in the smoke beckoning to him.


    A few times, he even followed them for a short time before shaking his head to throw the thoughts out of his mind and get back on track.


    The screams and clangs of battle could still be heard from their sides and backs, but the night looked clear and open in front of them.


    At his feet were eight goblins they had ambushed, one of the only signs of the forces they had seen in a few minutes. In battle time, that might as well be hours.


    The darkness of night was laid out before them, and Leeroy marched forward, not sparing the dead another glance.


    "Optio, the blood of these bastards is movin¡ª


    "Jankens," Lun said tiredly but more than a little shaken, "Stuff it and march. We still have a long way to go before we are safe."


    No one else said a word as everyone ignored the dried blood pulling itself from their bodies to collect with the rivers moving over the ground.

 B2 Chapter 33

    I sat on a charred and broken stump in what was once the heart of an orchard. At least, I assumed it was an orchard, though I could be wrong. I guess there could be any number of reasons to grow trees around a village.


    My experience with farming was marching through a field or two when no one was looking. Asking someone the truth about the trees was out of the question because the dead don''t talk ¡ª as far as I knew ¡ª so I was left to my own thoughts as I scraped my foot through the ash.


    To my back were the remnants of the last blood golems who roamed this valley. In total, there were six of the abominations. The four I killed were heading up the northeast hillside, with the other two hiding somewhere in the ruins of the village.


    Actually, I didn''t know there were only two other abominations. What I did know was that Franklin screeched in joy twice, and buildings exploded.


    For all I knew, he could have killed a dozen of the creatures each time, but I decided to go for the lowball guess, as while this village was one of the biggest we had seen so far, having more than a hundred adults seemed unlikely.


    Given the golem''s size with a bit of extra mass for the children and a few animals¡­ Yeah, that''s about right. I thought grimly, giving the ground one last aggressive kick before raising my head to look at the rest of my party approaching.


    Franklins'' face was grim, but his eyes burned with passion and conviction as he said, "Witnessing the reality of their failure is one of the worst sights a protector can see."


    "But I''m not a protector!" I snapped, a wave of anger rising within my chest, demanding action. Storming to my feet, I towered over the badger beastkin as I shouted into his face, "I was never a protector! All I ever did was my duty! What I was told! I was a tool that never cared what it was used for!"


    My finger was pressed so hard into the top of his chest that it had turned white, and I was bearing my teeth less than an inch from his nose.


    Slowly, calmly, without a flicker in his eyes of anything but sympathy and understanding, he reached up and wrapped his hand around the base of my neck to pull me down to his eye level.


    "That might have been what you were, but what will you be, cousin?"


    A moment of silence passed between us, and the anger raging inside of my chest seeped out of me at the question. As if they had a mind of their own, my eyes slipped to the side, settling on the village ruins.


    I knew the 15th couldn''t stop this from happening. The Kin had shown up too fast with too comprehensive of a plan. I now knew enough about the Kin''s capabilities to say, with absolute certainty, that the legion held the Triad at their forbearance. The losses the beastkin would suffer would be horrendous if they took it, especially now with the senatorial reinforcements, but they could do it.


    Their taking the Triad would more likely than not lead to a war of mutual destruction, but that was beside the point.


    We could not afford the losses of trying to protect these villages, as we were just at the start of something no one truly understood the scope of.


    Even if there was time and the insight that something was strange about the beastkin to send out messengers to the Cradle, what good would it have done?


    The beastkin would have caught them soon after they left and eventually reassured them enough to return to their farms. There would be some tensions, but most feelings would have vanished in the month of peace, making everyone let down their guards.


    That was assuming Kanieta''s people were the ones patrolling the Cradle, which I was doubting. She wasn''t even getting reports of the northern forts. They were hundreds of miles to the north, but her scouts should have seen and reported them within a month.


    I immediately discarded the idea of her scouts being so incompetent as to not find the buildings at all. So everything Kanieta thought she knew about the Cradle was thrown into question as Derg''s plan was proving to be of a far wider scope and complexity than we had first assumed.


    I didn''t blame Kanieta for not seeing the treachery coming. Who would have thought a faction within the Kin would align themselves with an ancient order of abomination-building blood mages still skulking around in the shadows? And that they would see humans and elves as the perfect sources of fresh blood and flesh in their centuries-old war.


    Well¡­ That last one made sense with purely pragmatic reasoning, even if I didn''t like it.


    Everything sounded so rational. Logically laid out and with reasonable arguments¡­


    Then why do I still feel like I failed? I asked myself.


    I felt a tear escape my traitorous left eye. Before it made it half way down my cheek, I savagely wiped it away. At the same time, I yanked myself away from Franklin and turned to look at the ash around me.


    "So, where are we going now?" I finally asked once I had gotten control over my turbulent emotions.


    "Northeast," Franklin rumbled. "The spell to make the golems were made and cast a few days ago." I looked at him in surprise, causing him to tilt his chin toward the rest of our group off to the side, "That''s what Kanieta said anyway. And I can''t smell any more mana coming off the spell, so it is at least a couple days old."


    That got another look from me, but he ignored it as we slowly moved to join the rest of our group. "Without a massive amount of mana and guidance, the golems take a few days to form. Kanieta thinks blood mages are roaming the area, killing the inhabitants and casting a spell on the bodies before leaving. Given they were all moving in the same direction¡­"


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    "They were being called somewhere." I finished, looking to the northeast.


    "Yep."


    My hands clenched and unclenched at my sides, and my jaw ached from my teeth grinding. "I''m gonna kill them all," I muttered.


    "That''s a given," Franklin agreed.


    I felt a pulse of gratitude at his instant agreement, but there was still a burning core of rage in my chest. I needed to find those who did this.


    No one said a word when we joined the rest of our group. Kanieta and Nareta gave me a look filled with mild concern while Hurring stood behind them placidly, only giving a slight nod as we passed.


    We quickly moved from the destroyed basin and onto the grasslands. As soon as I saw the green and yellow grass, I knew where we were going.


    It wasn''t hard. While the road was rather unused and, in some places, it almost looked like it had disappeared altogether, walking along the ruts was easy.


    Moving out at the pace we were traveling at for the past few days, I took off down the road, my eyes locked forward. The others would keep up¡­ or they wouldn''t. I really didn''t care at this point.


    I led the group for hours, looking at the horizon as the ground passed beneath my loping strides.


    We were traveling far faster than a horse-drawn wagon could go on these uneven roads, and before the sun was close to setting, I was standing at the edge of another scorched field.


    There was no massive crater in the ground this time, as these people seemed to have focused on raising livestock. I could tell from the dozens of fenced-off areas with the churned-up ground and the ruins of barns.


    It was those hints, along with what looked like hundreds of golems I could see in the distance, that made me come to that conclusion.


    After a brief pause to take in the destruction, I charged across the ash. Every step was a soft thump, throwing up a mixture of ash layered over loose dirt as my feet landed. One pasture after the next streaked through the corners of my eyes, but my eyes never moved from my target. I hardly noticed as I leapt over the charred sticks of one fence railing after another.


    At the edge of the farm, I caught up with the first blood golem. The fight, if you could call it that, was a blooming red as blood sprayed everywhere as I charged straight into the thing.


    My mental energy formed a cone, and as the golem reacted to my presence by extending flesh tendrils at me, they were knocked out of the way by my cone. As the tip impacted the central blob of the golem, its flesh was forced apart like warm butter as I drove the cone forward to where I could feel its core.


    Dancing through the chunks of flesh of the dead golem, I looked for my next target.


    There was no subtlety or finesse to the fight, as I needed none. I reveled in the act of ripping apart the abominations and lost myself in the act of spending my mental energy freely and unashamedly for the first time since I was a child.


    When the world came into focus again, I was sitting on a bolder, tens of golems deflated around me, but there were still dozens more in a line leading to the northeast. My chest was heaving, and my mental energy pool felt like a cramping muscle. While it was already filling with more, I could not find the will to bring it forth.


    The rage was still inside me, but it had been tamped down until only the embers remained, and my mind was no longer consumed by it. I was mentally exhausted, and my body was tapped out.


    If I charged into the abominations again, I would soon be overwhelmed, my mental energy super recharging or not. But I couldn''t bring myself to look away while the golems still moved.


    "Don''t worry, cousin," Franklin said, clapping me on the shoulder as he passed, making me jump in surprise. I hadn''t realized that the others had arrived during my one-man crusade. "I got the rest of them. Though I must say, it was rather rude to try and take them all for yourself."


    He wasn''t joking. I heard the irritation in his voice, and his shoulder pat had a bit more claw than palm. Though I found it more amusing than anything.


    I watched him tear into the creatures, and when there were only five more for the badger to rip apart, Kanieta popped up next to me.


    "Glad you seemed to have finally calmed down," she commented.


    "More like I don''t have the energy to keep being angry."


    "Hmm, that makes it even less impressive¡­ Regardless, I will leave you to die if you can''t keep control next time. The stakes are too high to indulge your petulant anger."


    I clenched my fists and jaw in annoyance, then sucked in a deep breath and let it out, releasing my feeling with the breath. She was right. Turning to face her, I said, "You are right. I''m sorry I lost my temper. It won''t happen again."


    Her head dipped slightly in acknowledgment of my apology. We watched Franklin''s massacre a bit longer before Kanieta said, "We are catching up to the blood mages. A couple of the summoning spells had trace amounts of mana clinging to them."


    "Good," I grunted, my eyes turning to the northeast.


    **********


    "Matus!" Shouted Hold Leader Gorth, "Get your ass to the slits!"


    "Understood!" Shouted back Matus over the din of battle from where he rested, though he knew the Hold Leader would already be turned away, focusing on his next problem. Slamming back his mug of tea, Martus wiped his mouth before setting the mug down and standing up with a grunt.


    He knew from long experience there would be a slight scraping and creaking of steel and leather rubbing against each other as he stood. And from more recent experience, his armor might feel slightly stiffer and be noisier than he remembered.


    Over the years he had been living in the Hold Long-ears, he admitted that his armor might have been neglected for a bit too long. He noticed more than a few patches of rust while putting it on.


    But in his defense, he maintained it well for the first couple of decades out of the legion. And over the following decades, he sporadically cleaned it when he came across the suit of armor. Given its placement in the bottom of a trunk shoved in the back of his closet, it wasn''t that often. After that, well, he pretty much completely forgot about it.


    Matus was getting too old for it. He remembered when he would wear the armor for days straight without feeling the slightest bit of discomfort.


    An hour after he put on the armor two weeks ago, he felt the strain on his back. Now, his entire body was a constant throb. But discomfort was a part of life, and without him, he wasn''t sure how long the defenses would last. So he would keep going until he dropped dead from his heart giving out if that was what it would take for the hold to remain standing.


    Other ex-knights were in the hold, but none had his experience or power.


    Every clomping step he took was marked by the sound of steel on stone, but the sound was overwhelmed by shouts, cries of pain, clanging of steel, and constant orders.


    Matus was amazed as he moved down the corridor to a flight of stairs. He had never seen so many people within Long-ear Hold. Every section of ground not holding a person was filled with supplies.


    And it wasn''t a situation in which everyone in the tower was part of the militia, and they were resting next to any supplies that might be needed in the battle because the catacombs were also packed with people.


    Hundreds of Cradlers fled to the Keeps, the first time in a hundred and thirty-two years that such an event happened. All of them told stories of impossible events like beastkins talking and having the abilities of knights.


    Well, no one doubted them now.


    Matus stepped into the outer southern section of the fifth floor of the Keep. The entire wall was one narrow window after another across its entire face. A team of bowmen and shieldsmen worked at every window, keeping up a constant stream of arrows.


    Matus''s job was to send out stone spikes or close the windows if¡ª when the beastkins finally made it up to the openings.


    In the past, that was when the bodies of the dead were stacked so high enough to reach the windows. Now, no one was sure what the hoard of intelligent beastkin besieging them was capable of.

 B2 Chapter 34

    Tath huddled into the corner of her little alcove, checking again that she was hidden from the rest of the alley as she pulled her legs into her chest. Grabbing the frayed edges of what at one time should have been a well-made blanket around her shoulders, she pulled it tight across her back as her anxiety grew. Her hands were clutching at the cloth so tightly that she heard the sound of threads straining and tearing.


    Immediately stopping at the sound, Tath forced her grip to loosen while pressing her head into her knees, but she knew it was already too late. She could hear the clack clack clack of steady steps moving down the alley. No! No! No! No! She screamed desperately in her mind. Move on, move on, move on. Please¡­


    She could not see it. Did not want to see it because if she did, it would be the last thing she ever saw. So long as she never looked up, there was at least a chance.


    Tath didn''t know where they came from. Didn''t know why they were here. All she knew, and wished was anything but true, was that one of them had stopped before her. The one that was the most feared within the slums. The Butcher.


    The scrape of pebbles shifting under their feet made her flinch. As they bent, the rustling of cloth made her heart flutter. Like a faint gust of wind on a summer''s day, she felt his breath running over her neck.


    Smashing herself into the wall, she felt pain shoot up her body as a stone stabbed into her backside. The little protection her threadbare clothes offered was nothing before its sharp edge, but she ignored it as she tried to escape the creature by shifting back further without looking up.


    Pain and fear filled her mind, and while she was breathing raggedly into her tiny cloth cave, she knew. Could feel the figure inches above her grime-matted hair.


    There was a dry halting chuckle that, if she had not heard of it before this cursed night, she would have guessed was a cough. Then there was a long sniff strong enough to rustle her stiff hair.


    ¡°Fear¡­ Pain¡­" Hissed a dry voice. "You reek of it. Even within the heart of your cities and fortresses, you cower from us in your own filth. All you have to do is call for your guards and tell them where we lurk¡­ Everyone knows they are searching for us. You suspect where we keep our base. And yet, you do nothing¡­ Pathetic. Cowering in this corner, pretending I don''t exist, will not save you. It is better to die in service to your people than to live in shame."


    At the end of his sentence, his voice was filled with disgust. A hand grabbed Tath''s hair and yanked her head back. Her back arched, and her feet scrabbled against the ground as she tried to relieve some of the pain, but no matter how she writhed, the man changed how he twisted her hair to always keep her in discomfort.


    "It is only right," Sneered the man, "A weak culture births weak people. I will set you free, and if the Mother is kind, you will be reborn as the vir to work your way up the casts."


    The man''s left hand came up, and he was holding the hilt of a curved blade glinting in the moonlight lighting the alley.


    Tath followed the blade as the man raised it to his face, and fear filled her heart as her eyes finally looked upon his form.


    He was not human. And while some of his features resembled that of elves, like his ears, they were too sharp.


    That was ignoring his completely obsidian eyes, slightly pointed teeth, and dark purple skin bordering on black.


    While the black pits he called eyes should be able to express nothing more than the emotionless stare of the dead, they gave off a feeling of cruel pleasure. Tath could feel his building anticipation. Every moment the monster could draw out Tath''s suffering, it built upon his feelings of sadistic euphoria.


    He placed the hilt of his blade on his cheek, deforming his skin. The moonlight reflected off the side of his knife, lighting up his face, revealing a patch of thickly layered scars. Dozens, if not hundreds, of thin lines pattered his flesh. As he tilted the blade to meet his skin and drew it forward, he sliced it into his cheek, covering the edge of the silver blade in crimson.


    "Let the blood of the Matriarch cleanse this lesser being." He hissed as he raised the knife above Tath. The blood ran down the edge of his knife until a drop of blood started to collect at the blade''s tip.


    I should have never come to this cursed area, Tath thought in despair. But the recent shifts in the street gangs drove her from her home, and she had no other option. She heard of the Butcher roaming this area but didn''t believe it until now.


    As the drop of blood fell from the knife, the knife drove toward Tath''s chest.


    Her eyes were locked on the descending blade, unable to look away from its glittering edge.


    Then the man jerked, and his eyes widened in shock, his knife halting its decent.


    The dark elf''s head tilted down to lock onto the knife buried in his guts. His brows drew together in confusion, and the knife he held twitched, but his time was over.


    Sliding the dagger out, Tath''s hand twisted and drove the knife threw his jaw and into his skull. Using a tendril, she twisted the hilt of her knife, ignoring the cracks of protest his skull gave as she stirred his brains.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    The elf''s arms fell to his side, and his black eyes dulled. Tath held up the elf''s body by the handle of her knife, then all at once, she let out a small gasp of shock and flinched back, letting go of the weapon and body.


    Her feet scrabbled against the grime-covered stones as she tried to distance herself from the body and the pool of blood spreading out from its head. She could not stop herself from staring at her blood-stained hands.


    Scrubbing them against the ground, she tried to hide the blood with dirt as she searched the alley for witnesses. Though piles of trash took up every section of the passage, there were no people.


    The other vagrants knew better than to come to these alleys. It wasn''t the¡­ dark elves'' territory, not officially at least, but¡­ he hunted in this area. Nearly every morning, a body was found with a look of agony on there face and partially skinned.


    Only the most desperate spent the night in this area. And Tath¡­


    She only came here because she was forced¡­


    Looking at the body, she felt¡­


    Triumph.


    Clutching her head, she groaned into his hands as she hunched over. Images flashed through her mind in an instant, and her back straitened.


    Kathren looked at the body of the dark elf, a small smile of satisfaction twitching at her lips. Then her eyes glazed over as she remembered the last week and a half of her life.


    As she worked her way into the slums of South Town, she quickly realized that things were much worse than anyone thought, so their plan would never work.


    The farther she moved into the slums, the more she felt like she was being watched. No matter how hard she searched, Kathren could never find those watching her. It was only when a legion patrol happened to pass that the feeling would vanish for a time, but it would always come back.


    After the third day, the feelings of danger got so intense that Kathren woke in the middle of the night and started slinking around. The next day, it seemed like the feeling was constant, and she seriously considered giving up. Luckily, Kathren heard the whispers circulating around the other vagrants about what she was feeling.


    They, the dark elves, were constantly reading everyone''s thoughts. Those who thought of going to the guards disappeared. Those trying to spy on them were found gutted in the middle of some street in the morning.


    People didn''t know who they were or what they were trying to do, but Kathren knew.


    It was only thanks to her dedication to playing her role that she already hadn''t been found and killed.


    The choice was simple, either back off while she still had a chance or fully commit. She committed.


    Kathren forced any thoughts other than survival out of her mind. Even as she listened to gossip around her, half of her mind was focused on the rock she was always placing underneath her butt. If anyone read her surface thoughts, they would see pain.


    But she knew that wouldn''t be enough, deeper thoughts would slip through. So she dredged up all her memories in the slums and pushed them to the front of her mind. Kathren even started using her old street name from childhood.


    Within a couple days of practice, her mind got to the point that it was divided. The surface thoughts were that of her childhood living in a slum, guided by her real self hidden below.


    It went¡­ better than she thought. A little too well if she was honest with herself.


    Kathren hated remembering her time on the streets, but she had no choice. The fucking elves were hardly ever seen alone on the rare occasions they were seen at all. And sneaking up on them was impossible. Everyone unlucky enough to pass the hooded figures on the street spoke of an oppressive aura they gave off.


    And there were plenty of hushed stories about when they first appeared months ago ¡ª which was not a good sign they went unnoticed that whole time ¡ª and how they would preemptively attack assassins hiding behind walls or posing as street vendors. And it wasn''t a single occurrence. All of the major gangs tried attacks at one time or another.


    In all those attacks, there wasn''t a single story of anyone ever getting the drop on them.


    The only good thing about all the failed attacks, other than being the cause of the rumors for her to gather, was the turmoil. With all the deaths and shifting of territory, having new people appear wasn¡¯t uncommon, making her job easier.


    Then Kathren ¡ª really Tath ¡ª heard of the string of deaths in this area and whispers of the Butcher walking the streets every night, so she set her trap. It only took three nights of sleeping in this area before she was found and approached by the bastard.


    Groaning, Kathren stood up and placed her hand on the small of her spine, leaning backward. A series of pops sounded, and she groaned in pleasure as her hunch straitened for the first time in a week.


    Kneeling down, Kathren patted down the body but only found what felt like a single small coin purse. Stuffing the bag into the folds of her clothing, she grabbed his knife and sheath, sliding it into her belt.


    Without hesitation, Kathren yanked her knife out of the dark elf, then started slicing through his neck.


    It took some time and more than a bit of blood, but she finally got through the flesh and bone holding his head to his body. Grabbing the silver hair of the dark elf, she picked up the head and threw it into a lumpy sack. There were enough pieces of cloth, dirt, and other items in the bag that no blood should leak out, and one more lump shouldn''t make it suspicious.


    Throwing the pack over her shoulder, she hunched over and focused on getting out of here. She even fanned her anxiety about getting noticed to the top of her mind, so any quick scans of her mind should be ignored.


    She kept her steps short and quick, like the steps of a rat ready to dart to the side at any moment. Sticking to the side of the street, she kept her head moving.


    While she did finally get her target, it was late in the night. The sun was coming up in a couple hours. While it was rare to see the dark elves out in the daylight, they had many humans working for them. And she had to assume that he was supposed to check at some point, mean¡ª


    A mental pulse washed over Kathren, and she stumbled to the side. The only thing keeping her up was the rickety building she was leaning against.


    The pulse was¡­ complex. It was a single pulse but contained layers of intricate connections that she didn¡¯t even know was possible. It was like every single legion signal pattered was combined and compressed into a single casting. The level of skill it would take to do something like that was simply absurd, and she doubted that even Instructor Green could come close.


    Kathren had no idea what the message contained, but few strong telepathic casters stayed in the slums. Assuming it was about the Butcher''s death seemed like a good idea.


    Keeping her head low, she started quickly striding forward, searching the shadows out of the corners of her eyes. They would be coming for her soon.

 B2 Chapter 35

    Kathren put her head down after the disturbing pulse and kept walking. That had nothing to do with me. She thought, totally convincing herself the moment the thought crossed her mind. Yep, complete coincidence.


    Her stride might have a little more purpose than would be expected in the slums, but the time of night and tension in the air could easily explain that away.


    Some buildings on the street had their interiors lit by the flickering orange glow of a lantern, including the one she was passing. Beams of light bled through the gaps in the wooden shutters and tarps covering the windows and door, playing over her body. A moment after the light source was lit, a voice snapped out, and there was a rush of movement.


    The sounds of a small tussle and harsh voices sounded from the house next to her, and the light vanished. All the other homes sparking with light also had their light disappear one after another in what must have been similar events.


    Everyone knew something was happening, and these survivors wanted no part of it.


    Soft thumps were the only thing marking Kathren''s passage on the empty street. The alleys were vacant and unmoving. So there should be nothing and no one to take notice of her fligh¡ª casually walking down the road.


    But every hair on Kathren''s body was standing on end.


    In the slums, the moment a street looks empty is the moment something is about to go down. Kathren was used to being one of the rats scurrying away, not someone important enough to get jumped.


    Her head was all but spinning in place as she tried to look in every direction at once. When a shadow stepped out of the alley she was about to cross, she jumped back and started pulling out her dagger to throw it at the form.


    The sudden movement jostled the bag from where it hung on her shoulder, and she felt it slide down her arm. A spike of panic that someone was trying to steal it drove through her, and halfway through her throw, Kathren stopped, ignoring the twinge spiking along her arm in protest as she turned to grab onto the bag with both hands.


    The vagrant cowered against the wall, his hands snapping up above his head on instance to block a beating. In the stillness, the stench wafting off the figure wrinkled her nose, and she noticed all the holes and layers in his clothing.


    It should have been obvious at first sight, but the tension in the air had gotten to her, and she acted on reflex.


    "Ple''se, ma''rm, we me''nt-cha no herm." Said the cowering man.


    Staring at the man for a second, Kathren''s eyes flicked to the side as movement caught her attention. A woman wearing similar worn clothing as the man was a few feet down the alley. Indecision covered her face, and she looked like she was caught between fleeing down the alley and charging at Kathren.


    With a flick of her wrist, the tip of her blade motioned the man to the side. The man was quick to react and bolted into the alley, wrapping the woman in his arms and ushering her away as Kathren carefully passed while adjusting her sack. She did not intend to die because she left her back open due to her assuming someone was harmless.


    You only needed to see it happen once to learn that lesson.


    She had traveled a third of a mile from where she encountered the Butcher, and there was a noticeable difference between the areas. The houses and streets were the same filth-covered structures as before, but in between the houses were the glittering eyes of watchers.


    Young and old watched from the darker shadows, poised to bolt or attack at the first sign of danger or opportunity.


    Typically, the streets would be quiet as the world anticipated the dawn of a new day. Everyone huddled in their beds, trying to get the last dregs of sleep before they were forced to go about their lives. Even the drunks would be wrapped around their bottles, passed out after their harrowing day of poisoning themselves.


    Now, only the drunks were still asleep, as they were too intoxicated to even notice the tension in the air more than a small stirring in their sleep.


    The slums of South Town were large. As the Triad transformed from a key stronghold of the Republic into a pitstop for merchants, retaining walls sprung up around the Southern Fort to contain the flood of warehouses built and the workers'' homes to supply them. Little regard was given to the defenses as they were unchallenged for hundreds of years as space was needed.


    When the demand for the ore coming out of Basetown dropped as other mines opened, most of the warehouses in the Triad were emptied and never refilled. The jobless workers started trickling out of the town, abandoning their homes as they searched for opportunities.


    By now, the entire third ring and half of the second were considered part of the slums. Tunnels going from the third ring into the second was an open secret, and rumors of other tunnels out of the town were everywhere.


    The reality was that while the 15th Legion was technically in command of all of South Town along with the rest of the Triad, the outer two rings only had a legion presence along the main road and on the walls, with the occasional patrol going into the rest of the ring. And even that was diminishing with recent events.


    You would think that with an army and new city placed on the northern side of the Rush, the walls around South Town would be heavily reinforced, but you would be wrong. The legion left the third ring all but abandoned and was working to reinforce the second.


    It didn''t help that the dark elves were killing any legionaries leaving the main road, which decreased the patrols. With everyone feeling that they were in danger, a reasonable feeling given the situation, seeing the 15th all but abandon the area did not go over well in the third ring, which made it even harder for the legion to enter.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    The cycle was vicious over the last weeks as it repeated. And what it meant ¡ª really the most important fact if everyone was honest with themselves ¡ª was that Kathren now had to walk miles to make it to safety.


    "How can I consider myself in enemy territory when I''m inside our walls?" Kathren muttered to herself in annoyance, the thud of footsteps echoing up and down the street.


    Her hands never left the hilt of her knife and her bag.


    Kathren couldn''t stop herself from looking over her shoulder as she came to an intersection, feeling a gaze stabbing into her back. Her searching the empty roads behind her didn''t stop her from turning onto a new street, but the sudden voice stopped her cold.


    "What we got here?" Thrummed a deep, cold voice.


    "Looks like someone run''nun, boss," Sneered a nasal voice in response.


    "That it does. That it does." drawled out the voice. "An'' here we got a warning to look for anyone suspicious. Does she look suspicious?"


    "Looks th''t way to me, boss."


    "Hmmm, that she does."


    Slowly, Kathren turned. Down the street were five men standing in a pool of light made by two lampposts fifteen feet away. While the road she had come down had them, she doubted anyone knew the last time they were lit.


    She could instantly tell why this pair of lampposts were burning as they lit up the group and everything else on the road. There were no turned-over carts or boxes blocking the street, but Kathren knew a checkpoint when she saw one.


    The hairs on her neck prickled as a thought occurred to her. There have to be more men close by.


    At a quick glance, the alleyways all seemed to either go back into the section of the slums she was escaping or towards the outer wall. And it was best to assume the local gangs knew their own territory enough to set up a trap.


    Kathren knew a path existed to skirt this chokepoint ¡ª there was always another path ¡ª but Kathren didn''t know the area well enough to find it before they ran her down.


    There were five men. Three of them were around six feet tall with broad shoulders, while the one on the left of the road was at least a head taller than the rest and built like a bull, which was strange because Kathren saw the distinct points on his ears, suggesting strong elf blood. A complete opposite to that, the man on the far right was scrawny with a wiry build, half a head shorter than the rest.


    "Somethin'' feel''en wrong ba''k there," Kathren said, trying to ease their suspensions. "Like danger coming." As she spoke, she shuffled towards them and to the right, throwing a couple of cautious looks over her shoulder in the hope that they would think she was afraid of something.


    All she had to do was get close enough before making a break for it, and she would be as good as free.


    "Right, you are." Rumbled the weirdly large elf, then took a long beak from talking as if what he had said tired him out. Not that Kathren cared. It was giving her more time to creep forward. "Then again, every street¡­ rat¡­ knows better than to wander¡­ in times like these."


    Everyone on the street paused as he completed his halting sentence, his words sinking in. The eyes of the other four men flicked to sweep over her body, joining the steady weight of the large man''s scrutiny.


    Kathren broke the moment by rushing forward toward the wiry man on the right side, her hand slipping inside her clothes. She covered the seven feet between them with two large steps, making it into arm''s reach.


    Slashing out at the man''s chest as she drew out her dagger, Kathren tried to make the man step back so she could rush past and make a run for it.


    The man''s hands moved in a blur of motion as all he did was crouch slightly, and Kathren felt something deflect her blade. Then she saw his left hand driving for her chest, the glint of steel flashing in the lamplight.


    Hopping back, Kathren inspected the wiry man she was facing, every warning bell she had going off. His right hand held a curved blade meant for slashing in a reverse grip, and his left had a narrow blade meant for stabbing. His stance was low, as his body slightly swayed in counterpoint to the tips of his knives. His mouth was stretched in something close to a grin as a crazed light sparked to life in his eyes.


    She caught the movement of figures rushing around her side to trap her against the house and another circling around the knife wielder, ensuring she couldn''t rush past him, an idiotic thought that had already left her head after their brief exchange.


    Flicking her wrist, Kathren threw her dagger at her immediate opponent to distract him, then turned on her heel and darted down the street to the clang of steel. The whole time she moved, Kathren was mentally cursing herself for not creating a makeshift harness to help her move faster.


    A tendril flicked out of her hand, and she swiped it to the side, flinging part of the trash always lining the side of the street at the men trying to encircle her.


    The men didn''t stop, but they did raise their hands, covering their faces, allowing Kathren to dart past them.


    Or so she thought until her heart jumped into her throat as she saw movement and felt a tugging on her clothes that increased to a yank.


    When she heard the sound of tearing fabric and started to move again, she gave a silent prayer to the Elementals for the sweetest sound she had heard in her life.


    She heard the pounding of their steps as they quickly chased after her, and a cold shiver ran down her spine. None of them were shouting or calling out to her.


    After two blocks, Kathren''s suspicions were proved right. More figures were stepping out of the shadows and moving to cover the street.


    Darting into an alley she was about to pass, Kathren hopped over a pile of trash before running down the alley''s length.


    As she reached the next street, all she saw was a motion on her left before Kathren turned to the right and pumped her feet as fast as she could. A few more blocks passed before she was forced to dart into another alley. This time, it was blocked at the end by shadowy figures, and she had to turn down a side alley.


    The whole time, she hadn''t heard a single shout, only the thuds of her and her pursuers'' footsteps.


    Kathren ran down alley after alley, forced down one road after another as she sought an escape route. Not that she had any place in mind, as she had long since lost track of where she was.


    Chest heaving as she slid to a stop, Kathren eyed the figures stepping into view at the end of the alley. A quick look of her shoulder showed the winded, hunched-over forms of her pursuers.


    What looked like half a dozen people were on each side of her, wicked grins on their faces as they finally cornered her. Sneering at her, the closest man said, "Where you gonn'' go¡ª


    The man was cut off as Kathren blasted apart the wooden fence on her left with a blast of psy that took up half of her reserves. It was quite the oddity, as a building was torn down, and a fence was put up along the back of the lot. But Kathren wouldn''t complain about having an opportunity to save her own life.


    Running through the gap, she darted across the empty lot with only weeds growing in its space and stepped onto a new street. Across from her, leaning against the wall of an alley, was the large part-elf.


    Heart sinking, Kathren knew that she was caught. She was never escaping, only being warned down so she was easier to catch. Then his face was lit up by the pipe he was smoking, illuminating his wink before he turned into his alley, vanishing from sight.


    "What''s going on here!" Roared a gruff voice to her right.


    Turning, Kathren saw a Centurion leading her women down the street toward her.

 B2 Chapter 36

    Kathren froze from sheer disbelief for a moment. What were the odds? And why are they out with a whole century at this time in the morning? Are things that bad?


    Pushing away the pointless thoughts, she jumped into action while taking a quick over her shoulder as she broke into a jog toward the legionaries. Three of her pursuers had stepped out of the hole in the wall, but at the sight of the legionaries, they slipped back into the shadows like the practiced rats they were.


    She could only nod in recognition of the sense of self-preservation they showed.


    "Halt and announce yourself," shouted the centurion at the front of the formation as she approached, adjusting her stance to prepare for an attack.


    Slowing but not stopping, Kathren continued to approach the centurion with her hands raised to the sides to look less threatening. She needed to get close enough to talk at a level that wouldn''t carry, and the closer she got to the legionaries and their lanterns, the safer she would be. She tried to keep a confident look as she approached, but her gut was twisting with unease as the multiple calls to stop made her wonder if she would soon find an arrow in her chest.


    "I''m a scout of the 15th." The centurion''s narrowed eyes didn''t waiver as suspicion burned in their depths, "I was tasked with discovering the threat in the slums."


    Still ¡ª not that Kathren blamed the centurion ¡ª she didn''t look convinced. Reaching into her bag, she took a quick look over both her shoulders, then tried to shield the head from view as she drew it out and stepped into the light of their lanterns.


    Kathren heard gasps and murmuring of shock as the legionaries laid eyes on the head, and there was a shuffling of feet and clanking of steel as they moved to get a better look. The centurion''s only move was the hard line of her lips curling down slightly and the creek of leather as her hands clenched around the handles of her short sword and shield.


    "I need to make it back to the Prefect." Stated Kanieta as she slipped the head back into the sack, "It''s the proof she''s been looking for."


    The centurion''s eyes flicked from her to the head, then back before she nodded and shouted, "Century, form up! We are escorting this scout back to the fort!"


    Feet tromped over the ground as the legionaries marched forward, quickly passing by Kathren and placing her in the center of their formation.


    As the formation came to a thudding stop, a tendril gently probed Kathren''s mind, and she accepted the invitation. She let the collective will of the union wash over the surface of her mind. It tried to sink deeper, to impart the collective identity onto her, but with practiced ease, she pushed it back from the core of her mind and erected a shield. Then she pushed some of her psy and will into the pool of power they all shared, slightly reinforcing the union.


    "What''s the situation." Asked Centurion¡­ Klep? ¡ª yeah, that was her name ¡ª through the union at the speed of thought.


    "Tracked and killed one of the dark elves in the slums," Reported Kathren, feeling the curiosity and shock of the others in the link, but no one was surprised. They had heard rumors of their hidden enemy. "Detected a complex pulse that alerted the local gangs to be on guard for me. I encountered a group of humans and a half-human, and they chased me here."


    "Locals are hostile," Stated Klep.


    "Perhaps. Some might be neutral or even friendly. I was funneled right to you. No other explanation for our encounter." As she sent the words, she sent a flash of memories of being pursued until she ran right into the century.


    ¡°¡­Understood. Opinion on Priorities?"


    It only took Kathren a moment to come to a conclusion. The situation was so far beyond what she should be dealing with it wasn''t even funny. But she knew the right decision. The one that would let her live with herself, no matter the cost. "We must deliver the package. The legion¡ª no, the Republic, must know of our enemy."


    "Agreed." Confirmed the Centurion. "Kari! Send a report to command and ask for assistance." Ordered the Centurion.


    Kathren felt the pull of psy as one of the legionaries constructed a telepathic casting. The directed pulse was released, and then¡­ nothing. There should have been echoes of the pulse and, at this range, a near-instant response that command received the message, whether or not it would be responded to or acted on. And yet, no one felt a thing.


    "I''ll send another¡ª"


    "No," cut in the centurion, her mental voice grim. "Eight Century of the Seven Cohort, Turtle Formation. We will deliver the package. Nothing will stop our advance."


    The Legionaries responded with a *clang* *clang* by hitting the flats of their blade against the steel edges of their raised shields. Those on the outer edge of the formation had turned to face outward. Even those at the rear of the formation had turned all the way around to walk backward.


    Without the union, it would be all but impossible. With everyone''s minds linked together, knowing where to step or where they could move so as to not interfere with one another was like being able to touch your nose with your eyes closed. Everyone just knew where they could move.


    The legionaries in the center of the formation raised their shields over their heads, covering for any attack from above. It was a real possibility, considering they were walking down a road with buildings on either side.


    The street they were on was big, with enough room for three large carts to drive abreast and still leaving enough room on the sides for stands and pedestrians. A remnant from a time when the town was once bustling with life. But it wasn''t so large that a thrown rock from a roof would fall short of the century walking down the center of the street.


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    Usually, the main worry was arrows, spears, and boiling liquids falling out of the sky, not rocks, but Kathren remained hopeful that the gangs wouldn''t be able to muster such a response. A feeling that everyone in the century was sharing.


    Besides being in the union and thus knowing everyone''s thoughts, she could tell because of the gaps in the shields overhead.


    Kathren was the one at fault here. The five women across and ten rows deep formation they were in was thrown off a little. You know, given that there was not, in fact, an exact number.


    But it was surprising how much space could be gained by every person creating a gap in their shields by an inch rather than properly layering them together. To be exact, it was enough space for Kathren to remain in her half-crouch under four shields and still have everyone remain in nearly proper formation.


    There would be a more significant loss in psy than normal if anything landed on the shields, as they weren''t correctly interlocked, but what were the chances that would matter. Come on, we''re only going at most a few miles.


    "Century, forward march!" Ordered Centurion Klep.


    Everyone stepped forward with their right foot at the same time. The combined thud of a hundred and one feet hitting the ground simultaneously was like a giant walking over the earth.


    There would be no hiding their movement, but legionaries didn''t care. A legion''s purpose was to smash into an enemy, then grind their way forward with quick and precise stabs and slashes of a short sword while the enemy broke against their shields.


    It was like they were beating a war drum as they marched. An inevitable boom boom boom, as the century moved down the street.


    Minutes passed as they marched, but during that entire time, no one looked away from their zone. A legion formation was all about trust, and as such, some individuals found being within their ranks nearly impossible.


    Through inclination or by the feelings being beaten into them over their life, some individuals just do not trust easily or at all. They can not turn their back to someone and never throw a glance over their shoulder. It is not in them to trust that others are as well trained as themselves. And that should a threat appear, the others will do all they can to stop it or, at the very least, send a mental message about how to dodge or deflect the attack before they would just have to take the wound.


    Against smaller numbers, a legion formation was all but impenetrable. Unless the land was ripped apart to swallow the century, it would not break against a smaller force. But there was a limit.


    Legionaries were mortal, and as such, they had mistakes.


    A deep thump of compressing air followed by the cracking of stone sounded on the street.


    "Brace ri¡ª" The Centurion didn''t have the time to send her mental message before the century was rocked. While the words weren''t sent, the initial burst of intent made it through, and every woman reacted by leaning to the right and supplying psy.


    Shoulders pressed together, and instead of the stone from the exploding wall impacting a single line of interlocked shields, they hit the combined weight of a hundred women with a wall of psy reinforcing the shields.


    It was possible to stop the rocks cold, but it wasn''t worth the cost. Using their own strength to absorb what they could before making up the deficit with psy was where the real skill of a shield wall lay.


    The entire formation swayed as chest-sized pieces of stone cracked into the wood shields and clattered over the roof.


    "Charge!" Shouted someone from the dust cloud a moment after the wall exploded, followed by roars as a wave of people carrying long spears appeared out of it.


    ¡°Arch¡­" Sent a weak voice before it trailed off.


    Faintly, Kathren heard the gurgles of people struggling to breathe, only to have their own blood stop them.


    "Get those shields back into position!" Mentally shouted Centurion Klep. The legionaries had tilted their shields, positioning their roof to better deflect the stones from the wall, but at that moment, five archers stood up on their left flank, releasing a volley into the gaps of the shields.


    Every single arrow hit someone in the throat.


    *Boom*


    A second explosion rocked the street as the building under the archers exploded outward.


    A wave of panic bloomed within their mental network. While the explosion on the left was smaller in that it didn''t tear off the entire front of the building, there was far more debris than should be explained by a nine-foot section of wall. Debris that was all headed toward a clump of five.


    The same five that now had a line of women behind them drowning in their own blood slumped on the ground, gasping for air.


    Centurion Klep tried to shift the psy she had supplied to reinforce their right flank from the spears wielders to the left, but she could not move the psy fast enough.


    Grunts turned into screams of pain as the shields, then the psy reinforcing them, and finally, the women''s arms and bodies cracked under the force of the impact. The broken women were knocked off their feet as the full force of the crushing weight of stone fell onto them.


    A volley of a dozen arrows came out of the dust, slipping into the gaping hole in their formation. More women grunted and cried out in pain as arrows hit them.


    Those arrows were poorly fired, with a few hitting the dying on the ground and others in the legs and gut, but they didn''t need to kill. Wounding six more after ten were all but killed was a devastating blow.


    "Pull back!" cracked a voice over the street.


    Hardly five seconds had passed from the start of the attack to now. Those attacking on the right had charged out with spears, aiming to wound the legs of the legionaries while acting as a distraction. And now they were retreating through the hole in the house after inflicting five minor flesh wounds.


    In the momentary gap from the initial attack, seven were killed, and nine were so wounded that it was better to leave them behind.


    Kathren knew what happened. Everyone did, though it all happened too fast for them to react.


    "Century form up!" Roared Centurion Klep, breaking everyone out of the shock from the overwhelming attack. "Wounded, secure a house and hold up waiting to be relieved." Acknowledgments instantly came through the mental link, and those designated started to act.


    Kathren clenched the sword of one of the dead in her grip from where she stood in the center of the formation, dread building inside her. If this was their first probing attack, what would it be like when they were serious?


    **********


    Two cloaked shadows stood upon a terrace of a decrepit building, looking down at the battered century as they slowly marched up the street.


    "Are we really going to let them escape?" Hissed one of the figures, his voice filled with rage.


    "If they make it, they make it," Calmly replied a feminine voice from the other figure. "We will not intervene further."


    "They killed Orok!"


    ¡°¡­Are you questioning me?" Said the female, her voice taking on a dangerous edge.


    "No, My Lady¡­"


    "Good." Stated the female shadow as they started to turn away. "As to why¡­ well, them having proof of us is meaningless now. This could even be helpful for my plans." Her voice took on a cruel amusement at the end like the thought of playing with her food brought her joy.

 B2 Chapter 37

    Leeroy crouched low as he crept forward, falling to his stomach as he reached the top of the hill. With all of his practice, Leeroy thought he was getting pretty good at being quiet. There was hardly any noise from the swaying grass, rustling of dried leaves, or breaking of twigs as he moved.


    He knew better than to say he was skilled, but he was getting the hang of all this sneaky stuff. And apparently, the other agreed because he was ordered to go scout, though it could be that he was up taking a piss when the optio decided it was time to get moving.


    Looking down the hill and then to the north, Leeroy took in the road winding along the bottom of the hill. On the other side of the road was a stream that mirrored the road until it disappeared into the distance.


    On the banks of the river was a strip of colorful flowers, with the field of grass further into the valley, a pale green heading toward yellow as spring turned into summer. The wind blew through the valley, causing the grass to dance.


    All said and done, it was a pleasant view.


    Leeroy wouldn''t have minded laying in place and relaxing in the warmth of the sunlight. As long as he convinced some village maiden to come with him for a picnic, but such wasn''t Leeroy''s lot in life.


    Besides the fact that the remnants of his squad were a few dozen feet below the summit of the hill and were waiting for his report so their optio could decide where they would go next to escape the roaming beastkins, Leeroy couldn''t relax while under the threat of death.


    Call him crazy, but something about it just made him anxious. Sure, he could fall asleep when he had a moment of free time, but sleeping and relaxing weren''t the same. One was required, the other a luxury rarely granted to legion grunts.


    And there was another problem. How could Leeroy enjoy the sight when he was constantly ignoring that the road was littered with broken and partially burned wagons. There was no blood or bodies around the destruction, not that he expected any. Bodies lying where they died in a pool of blood would be too normal for his life right now.


    Finally, he turned to look at the south side of the valley. The first thing his eyes darted to was the fortress built in the center of the valley alongside the road and river. The fortress was an over hundred-foot tall rectangle. What it looked like besides that sole fact was hard to tell.


    Because there were so many gaping holes dotted the structure, there was more hole than an exterior wall. And by a minor miracle, the upper portions of the building were still standing.


    And if Leeroy wasn''t on the job, he wouldn''t mind hanging around to see if a bird landing on the tower''s roof caused the entire structure to collapse just to have another drinking story.


    However bad the fortress was, its destruction was nothing compared to the rents covering the ground around it. Impact craters and trenches were everywhere around the structure, stretching for what must be a mile in every direction. In three places, it looked like open pit mines were attempted to be made, as piles of dirt at least thirty feet tall and too long for Leeroy to properly see were around the holes.


    It wasn''t ore that they were looking for. No, after the fortress fell, the beastkins went digging for the survivors hiding in their tunnels. Leeroy already knew they had succeeded. Otherwise, they would still be here.


    He also knew why they wanted the people, but he pushed that thought away as quickly as it appeared.


    Turning away from the destruction, Leeroy moved back the way he came, this time being far less careful than before. There was a battle that raged here as little as a couple days ago, but now their group was the only living creatures around.


    Leeroy could easily be wrong about the danger level as he wasn''t a scout, but he didn''t feel like he was and didn''t have the unknown of peaking into some miles-wide valley to make him cautious. As he strode down from the ridge with no concern, Jankens stood up from where he was hiding nearby and moved to join him.


    "Is the fortress still standing?" Jankens asked with only weariness in his voice.


    "Destroyed." Sighed Leeroy in answer.


    "Figured. Where do you think we''re going next?"


    "North." Stated Leeroy, getting a grunting chuckle from Jankens.


    After a moment, Jankens said, "There ain''t much further north we can go." Leeroy agreed but didn''t say anything, letting the thought hang in the air. Somethings you just left unsaid.


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    Their squad ¡ª there was no pretending that there was a century anymore ¡ª fled from the battle, which led to what felt like months but was only a couple weeks of close encounters.


    When morning dawned, everyone accepted that they could not complete their mission, and Lun rightfully decided to circle back to the legion and report what they learned.


    They wouldn''t be able to cross the river, but then again, they didn''t have to. All they had to do was follow the river north long enough until they reached an area patrolled by the 14th Legion.


    Leeroy and the others had been on those river patrols enough times that they should be able to find the spot from across the river. And if no one was around, a pulse or smoke fire should get enough attention for a squad to come out from one of the nearby forts. Though there would be a decent chance it would be a squad of goblins with a dark elf leading them¡­ But that would be a risk they had to take.


    However, the first step of that plan was never taken, as what seemed like an army of goblins was pouring north, cutting them off from the river with an equal number of beastkin trying to get in front of the goblins to trap them in a pocket.


    Or that was what Optio Lun was saying.


    Regardless of the reasons, the maneuvers of the two forces pushed them to the northwest, and the roving bands of beastkin, goblins, and¡­ moving piles of flesh, continued to chase them. Or, at the very least, remain nearby.


    The few supplies they had quickly ran out, and it was thanks to psy pulses that they were able to catch enough small game to keep them going as they moved. It was surprisingly easy to map a rabbit burrow with a pulse and then use a small wooden stake to maneuver through the network of tunnels and kill the hiding animals.


    A week ago, all signs of goblins vanished, and the only beastkins they saw were at a distance, moving along the roads of the Cradle. Not that it was any comfort.


    The first town they encountered was abandoned, so they stayed off the roads. A decision was reinforced when they found one razed homestead after another razed and partially abandoned homestead. They were able to search the towns for food to help them travel, but it was quite a small silver lining.


    Most of the destruction didn''t look new. And some looked like it was over a month old. And yet the 14th knew nothing about it.


    Sure, technically, no legion was designated to defend this area. But there were enough Cradlers in their Legion that they should have heard something. Shit, Boik was one of them, and seeing his home in ruin put him in quite the fowl mood.


    Over all of the distance they had traveled, they hadn''t seen a single human or elf yet.


    And this was the fourth fortress they found destroyed.


    "What''s the situation," Lun asked when they walked into easy talking range.


    "Destroyed, I doubt we could salvage anything." Lun nodded, expecting the answer.


    No one in their group was surprised. They were so confident that the fort would be destroyed that they camped on the other side of the hill from the fort, not even bothering to check until Leeroy was ordered to do so first thing in the morning.


    "Let''s go, boys," Lun ordered as he got to his feet, hefting the pack he had scavenged.


    Without complaint, the others got to their feet and started moving after Optio Lun. They had blankets and packs now, as they scavenged what they could while traveling, but they looked more like a small band of mercenaries than proper legionaries.


    They marched along the side of the hill on the opposite side from the road.


    It was a risk, but none of them had the expertise to wander off and ensure they were staying in the right direction. Even with a compass, you can get surprisingly lost as one mile after another built upon itself, so staying near a road it was.


    One hour after another passed as miles were beaten to dust under their feet.


    "Is that smoke?" Jankans asked anyone in the afternoon sun as they crested a hill, and he squinted at the distant sky. "Or the Broken Peaks?"


    "Smoke," Boik said, his voice filled with grim assurance.


    "Then why is it stretched across the horizon?"


    "Because the Chain still holds." He said with a hint of pride.


    "Explain Legionary Boik." Ordered Lun.


    Shrugging like it was obvious, Boik said, "Those forts," gesturing behind us to take in all of the destruction we had passed, "are the ones built within the last two centuries."


    "Meaning?" Lun prompted after Boik stopped as if what he had said explained everything.


    The squat, blocky man turned, his bushy eyebrows scrunched up in confusion like he could not understand why he was being asked the question.


    When he saw that everyone was looking at him with expectant looks, he cleared his throat in embarrassment. For the first time in days, he wasn''t scowling as he rubbed the back of his neck with his calloused and tanned hand. ¡°Umm¡­ Hee¡­ It-ts the Chain?"


    "Yes," said Lun, "You said that, but what does it mean?"


    ¡°Ohh¡­ It means that every half mile, there is another fortress. Most have towers at their borders to act as watchtowers and provide areas to retreat to for the farmers in the field. The Chain stretches almost from the Northern Forest to the Twins, and the widest section is¡­ forty miles? Something like that, I never really cared to find out. Though that is nothing to the maze of tunnels under each fortress." As he talked about his home, most of his anxiety faded away.


    "Are they all connected?" Lun asked, some shock at the explanation leaking into his voice.


    "Most aren''t. And only the ones that have close family relations are connected by tunnels. After all, it''s quite the show of trust to have a backdoor into the fort when a beastwave is at the gates. And it''s hard to properly seal off the tunnels once the beastkins take a fort."


    "So all that smoke?" asked Lun.


    "It''s the fields burning. Maybe a few keeps. But the Chain still stands." Conviction filled his voice when he said the last part, and it put a little pep in Leeroy''s and everyone else''s step.


    They all knew the only reason they were still alive was because they were too inconsequential to try and kill.


    Leeroy knew for a fact they were spotted more than once, but nothing ever came of it.


    "You think we can sneak through the lines," Leeroy asked Lun, voicing everyone''s question.


    He took a moment to answer, his eyes locked on the line of smoke billowing into the sky across the horizon. "All we can do is try."

 B2 Chapter 38

    The hushed voices of the others washed over me, but I ignored them. They weren''t talking about anything important, only discussing what we were seeing through the curtains of smoke, and I had more important things on my mind.


    I could no longer avoid it. There was no more beating around the bush or deluding myself.


    Something was wrong.


    I wasn''t talking about the fact that I was hundreds of miles from my legion, which probably had no idea where I was or even knew I was still alive. A fact that I genuinely didn''t give a flying fuck about.


    Not feeling anything was odd for me because the thought of doing anything that would outright break legion law made me shudder with disgust in the past. Sure, I would skirt my duties and try to get out of work, but it was never any more than anyone else. My new outlook added to my worries, but it still wasn''t getting to the heart of the issue.


    The feeling of wrongness also didn''t originate from the fact we had been steadily moving through a desolate wasteland for thirteen days and had yet to meet a single other person.


    Well¡­ that wasn''t entirely accurate, and it might be a slight exaggeration.


    There was plenty of grass, trees, and small streams on our journey, giving quite a pleasant view so long as we were between the spots of charred and shattered ground.


    What there weren''t were any animals or people. A disturbing lack of them, in fact, given that three days after we found the first blood golems and started a killing spree, we never ran into another. And yet, every village was still destroyed, along with the scattered forts we have begun to see over the last few days.


    Really, I was a little disappointed. I honestly thought that the breadbasket of the north would be more populated and developed. Also, that our trip would be more exciting.


    There I was, ready to battle my way into the heart of the beastkin army high on my own powers and supply the information to undermine their whole operation, and all my enemies disappeared.


    The one thing I can say about the Crescent Moon is that they were thorough.


    Whether the rogue Kin killed the inhabitants or they fled, the bastards ensured that no one was returning or could gain anything from the ruins because nothing but ash and rubble was left.


    If we searched hard, we might have found some hidden stores of food or coins, but there was a decent chance they would be empty. Given that their crops would have been in full swing, taking up a significant portion of their saved seeds for planting, and with winter only a couple months away, any food stores would have already been drained.


    Or the Kin could have taken the food when they raided them, but that was impossible to say. The point was that nothing worth searching for was there now.


    Few things are worse than losing everything you own, and it might be harsh to say it, but this level of destruction would be far worse if it happened elsewhere.


    Out of all the places in the Republic, the cradlers had to worry about beastkins the most. No matter how sporadic they had become, beastwaves happened. Not having a store of long-shelved foods in their cellars or the keeps would just be bad management.


    So, anywhere the refugees ended up should be able to house them for a time. But that was only in the short term.


    In the past, a beastwave would try and kill everyone they came across, but they wouldn''t search out and intentionally destroy everything around them. It was a side effect, not the goal. The Kin taking or destroying stores would cause severe issues for the cradlers survival.


    Not that it was all doom and gloom.


    In recent days, I have spotted a lot of cart tracks that looked to be laden with a heavy load heading north. The farther we went, the more tracks appeared on the road.


    By now, I could take a good guess of how everything went down. My final conclusion took some careful observations on my part and some input from Kanieta and the others, but I''m confident I got most of the picture.


    The wolfkins and birdkins of the Crescent Moon faction didn''t have enough personnel to infiltrate the Craidel and overwhelm it all at once. At least, they didn''t have enough personnel to do it without Kanieta or the legion getting wind of it before they were ready.


    They must have moved their troops far enough into the Cradle that any casual scrutiny would show that everything was business as usual.


    Those in the Cradle were under enemy occupation, so if they lost contact with other villages, it would not be that unexpected. And if anyone got curious, a few well-placed guards would be all it would take to silence them.


    And as for Kanieta''s people who were supposed to be there, well, they must have eventually figured out something was wrong, but by then, it would already have been far too late. Most of those units could have been surrounded and silenced without anyone knowing the wiser.


    Any messages could have been intercepted, and with foxes and wolves being close in appearance, they could have easily passed on the reports to Kanieta. That was assuming they even cared about the wolf in their midst.


    When Kanieta''s people discovered the betrayal, what were they going to do? Most of their numbers would have been killed by then, and there would be no hope of punching through the Crescent Moon as they steadily marched east.


    Assuming Kanieta''s people had the option to even make a choice, it came down to how they would die. They could cross the Twins into the Republic''s territory, go into the arms of those encircling them, or go north into a maze of death designed to catch and kill beastkin.


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    A maze that I was inspecting from where I lay on the ridge of a tall hill and was rather impressed about. I heard stories about their forts, but I had no idea of the real extent. Dozens were within my view, and it would be hundreds if not thousands if the fields around each tower weren''t on fire, blocking what lay behind them.


    The forts were every shape and size I could imagine. Some were squat and wide, more were tall rectangles, and others had walls around a central keep. The one thing that unified them was that they all had a tall tower or two and could house hundreds of people comfortably.


    It was no wonder the Republic never seriously tried to annex the Cradles after their first failed attempt. A point proved to me by the beastkin failing to make it past the first row of forts in most places.


    With no paths to life, we all assumed that Kanieta''s warriors were either killed or captured. Probably killed if my experience with the wolves was anything to go by.


    After the Crescent Moon finished killing off the resistance, they wrapped up what was left at the edges.


    This was why we found recent destruction along with blood golems when first entering the Cradle, and month-old destruction passed it.


    As soon as the first few villages were raised, people would have started fleeing with anything they could carry. But not everything.


    And when they heard of what the Crescent Moon was doing, burning your own homes rather than giving them to monsters would start looking pretty good.


    That all seemed horribly logical to me.


    But witnessing all of that destruction wasn''t what was wrong.


    No, that feeling lay solely on the fact that I was under a compulsion.


    ¡­I wasn''t even sure if I could call it one because it was unlike any compulsion I had ever heard about. Anything I ever assumed was possible.


    At first, it was something I could ignore and brush off. I became slightly more emotional about subjects I never cared to contemplate before. Or I became furious out of nowhere at nothing.


    The first time I noticed something was weird was with Franklin, but that was reasonable. The rage afterward was less so.


    After a few days, my emotions were fluctuating between extremes at the drop of a hat. Now, if that change came after seconds or hours, it was anyone''s guess, as I could find no real way to tell how long the¡­ episodes would last.


    Have you ever tried to throw a rock, and someone smacked it out of your hand mid-throw? Besides the ache from pulling a muscle, you just feel incomplete. It''s like you never got to finish and were forced to walk away before you get to see the result.


    I''m stalking through the Cradle, enjoying being out in nature away from responsibilities, and then, with no warning, crushing anxiety crashes down on me that I am shirking my duty and betraying the legion. I even find myself turning around and in the middle of taking a step back the way we came.


    After a few heaving breaths where I can think of nothing but the quickest way of returning to the legion, my mind snaps to a neutral, emotionless state, where I''m not feeling anything.


    The first time it happened, I could hardly bring myself to turn and start walking to keep up with Franklin and the others. I could not even answer the concerned questions.


    A few minutes later, it was like a curtain was lifted from my mind, and my emotions flooded back. Mostly anxiety and crippling fear that someone was controlling me with mental energy.


    And a few hours or a day later, I would have a similar experience again.


    At first, I was positive that someone was trying to manipulate me. But try as I might, I couldn''t find a single fluctuation of mental energy probing my mind.


    I might not yet be confident enough to release a pulse and detect everything for miles around, but I have learned how to feel the ambient energy of the world around my body.


    It isn''t technically challenging. All it takes is extending a tendril.


    But at the same time, I have to relax my grip on my mental shields. Shields that I didn''t even know existed.


    Every time I extend a tendril, I reinforce its shell with my will to push away all ambient energy. It''s second nature. Something I didn''t even know I was doing until now.


    I have no proof, but I''m pretty sure that the world''s energy used to corrode any mental energy outside of my body and still does that to everyone else''s right now. The only difference would be my¡­ event.


    Shuddering, I pushed the thought out of my mind.


    This is all just a theory at this point, but a pretty good one. As I experimented, I discovered that I could relax that shield of willpower on the tendril, allowing the ambient world energy to connect to my mental energy.


    The first time it happened was a shock, as I felt the world a few feet around the point of contact. I felt the tops of the grass around me, along with the wind that was blowing the grass and even the energy itself. The shock caused me to lose control of my casting for the first time in I don''t know how long.


    My mind immediately jumped to how I could use this discovery. If I spread out enough tendrils, I would have a sphere of perception. One better than that, as I could pick up on every foreign energy and castings within it.


    Simple. And yet, removing my mental shield from an entire tendril was incredibly challenging. It was the reasoning behind my belief that ambient energy was corrosive before. Why else would the habit be so ingrained within me?


    Trying to remove the shell was like trying to write in a different style than your natural one. You can do it, but if you do not fully focus on it the whole time, the moment your attention slips, your writing returns to normal.


    I was fighting against my own habits, and any progress I make will take time and effort. Both of which I was willing to give. While it wasn''t much, I did succeed in creating a small sphere around my body.


    The sphere could only reach a couple inches from my skin and took all but the barest minimum of attention it took to put one foot in front of the other. My current record was holding it for seven seconds, so it''s really not that useful yet.


    However, it did allow me to detect anything around me. A fact I was trying to use to detect whoever was manipulating my mind.


    By sheer chance, I succeeded. But I kinda wish I didn''t.


    Because I might have had a better experience if my mother told me she hated me for being born and tried to kill me.


    I felt the ambient energy of the world turned against me and force thoughts into my mind.


    That wasn''t right, though¡­ The world did not care.


    We were all her children, and she would not force us into anything.


    But something caused the ambient energy to turn against me, and I perceived the barest hint of it as it altered my thoughts. And it felt like it was for¡­ redemption? There was more to it, but that was what I got the impression of. And as soon as the foreign feelings passed, fear filled my mind and every other thought until now.


    To put it mildly, it was concerning that some force could cause the world to manipulate me. Me and others, because as I look back on my life, elves only ever received varying degrees of abuse. And no one ever does anything.


    I don''t even know how that is possible. Or considered normal for an entire race. Someone, somewhere, should have done something. But I have never heard of a single thing.


    All of that was what was wrong. And I might be the first elf who can deal with it because I am no longer fully affected.


    But no matter how earth-shattering my recent discoveries were, they didn''t matter right now.


    Because I was lying on a hill at the edge of a warzone with Franklin, Kanieta, Nareta, and Hurring as we decided what to do next.


    "So, what''s the plan?" Asked Franklin, refocusing my scattered thoughts from my problems.

 B2 Chapter 39

    "We need to find the main camp of the Crescent Moon force up here," Kanieta said into the silence, eyeing the swirling smoke as she tried to spot the warbans she knew were moving around in it. "After that, we can look at our options. I have a warband on its way up here that I am sure can arrive without being spotted, but without a critical target to put Derg''s warriors on the back foot, it will be driven back into the Northern Woods. We just cannot divert the numbers to a full-on conflict right now, which I am sure he is aware."


    "How are you staying in contact?" Green asked, his distracted eye snapping into focus suddenly. "Can the message be intercepted or altered?"


    "It''s a messenger spell in the shape of a fox. And no," stated Kanieta, forcing her voice to remain level as he questioned her spellcraft, "The safety measures can not be broken, though it could be destroyed. Which is why multiples are sent out for redundancy." Green looked skeptical and mildly curious about it. "The spell has an inbuilt pattern of mana that needs an identical design presented to it to deliver the message. If it is stopped too long without the pattern being presented, it self-destructs. If the outer shell is broken, it self-destructs. While it''s not impossible for Derg to have someone who can get past my spellwork, the odds of them being in between here and Forest''s Edge are unlikely. So yes, I am confident in secure communications."


    Green dipped his head in recognition of her point, soothing her irritation at him. "So we have warband of¡­"


    "Two thousand eight hundred and change."


    "Not exactly an overwhelming force," Green commented, his eyes flicking at her in confusion at her clipped tone.


    "And we aren''t going to get any better for a while."


    "How many does Derg have?" Asked Green.


    Kathren turned to the side, looking at her cousin, prompting her to answer, "We don''t have an exact number. But he should have between fifty to a hundred thousand."


    Green snorted and started coughing as he choked on his own saliva. After a few seconds, he got out a horse, "What?" Before clearing his throat and continuing, "You have that many warriors as well?"


    Kanieta caught the glint in his eyes as he asked his second question, feeling a little bit of admiration. Green and been¡­ moody¡­ over their journey.


    He nearly constantly had a distracted expression on his face. But more than that, he was making mistakes that he had proven when they first met were beneath him. It was only luck that no enemy was around to capitalize on his constant missteps and noise.


    If he wasn''t basically an experiment for her to see the effects on an Olimpian''s soul when it was nearly ripped to pieces and healed, she would have already told him to go back or just left him behind. That, and leaving Franklin behind to possibly be killed or just report that she left them, would be a political headache she didn''t want to deal with. It would be better to die out here.


    And there was no way that Badger would leave Green, as he was constantly hovering around him like he was some kit that would hurt itself the moment he turned away.


    It was not an entirely unfounded feeling, as Green was developing a reputation of walking with them one second before turning around the next and stomping back the way they came. Or his face would go blank or fill with fear out of nowhere at nothing.


    The worst part ¡ª the thing that put her hair on end ¡ª was that something interesting was happening to Green, but he was refusing to talk about it. Or even so much as acknowledge it, just remaining quiet. The selfish bastard. What''s the point of an experiment that can''t be accurately documented!


    No matter what Nareta said, all of her irritation was not stemming from how she had to note what was happening to him as an external observer.


    The first time he froze with a blank face, Kanieta thought that he had become a shell. That the healing had gone wrong or wasn''t completed correctly, and his soul was ripped out by something. Her heart almost stopped as she thought her experiment had ended before it really began.


    After that first episode where he froze while walking, Kanieta started watching the elf closely. She started taking note of his fluctuating emotions, as she suspected they were related to his situation.


    Right after she started, she noticed with mild concern that it was happening at a seemingly increasing speed, regardless of how long it lasted, but that wasn''t what Kanieta was most worried about. That belonged to what she noticed while studying him. She detected that the world''s mana would ripple around him when his emotions shifted. It was subtle, but anyone looking would notice it.


    And Kanieta was damn sure that Green wasn''t the cause.


    As fascinating as it was, the time when she could focus more on studying Green than traveling was over, much to her annoyance. Derg was becoming quite an annoyance.


    This could open up a whole new field of magic involving the soul. Though maybe it would be best to leave that branch closed¡­ She thought with trepidation before pushing the ridiculous thoughts away. If it wasn''t her, then it would be someone else getting the credit.


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    And to create proper defenses, one needed to know how to cast the spells.


    On the bright side, she had noticed that in between the world¡­ suppressing him? Whatever the right word was, Green was affecting the ambient world mana around him, though she doubted he realized that whatever his clumsy castings were, they would alert anyone looking.


    Needless to say, Green had a lot on his mind. But despite all of his distractions, the old him was perking up for the first time since they left as he tried to learn how strong her faction''s warbands were. Some habits just never leave us, huh.


    Kanieta flashed her teeth as she said, "Not quite that many. But I designed my warbands to buy time so our mages can complete our war spells. And to¡­ infiltrate the enemy lines." At the last part, her eyes flicked to her faintly smiling cousin.


    Green''s eyes narrowed at Kanieta when she emphasized infiltrate, rightfully mentally substituting infiltrate with assassinate. "As for the Crescent Moon," Kanieta continued before the silence became too heavy, but she could not stop herself from sneering at the name of the traitors. "Nearly everyone above the age of adolescence is a combatant. It is a complete warrior''s society, with few among their number having the skills to create anything but destruction. Many of our factions found it easier to offer them all the support they needed to hold back the Letairry on the front lines instead of going themselves." She paused for a moment before adding, "And you should know that there was another seventy-five thousand Crescent Moon fighting in our rear guard action. Though they seemed to have disappeared a week and a half ago."


    "That''s not reassuring," Green murmured, getting nods of silent agreement, "but in the long term, we have the advantage because they won''t be able to make effective war."


    "Potentially," Nareta broke in, causing everyone but Kanieta to look at her in confusion, ¡°Ughh¡­ you''re going to make me say it, aren''t you?" Taking a breath, she visibly steadied herself before saying, ¡°Derg¡­ isn''t stupid." The words seemed to physically pain her as they came out of her mouth. "There is more than one reason he took the Cradle. Besides food, his army needs very little else. They are known to fight successfully with tooth and claw if needed. And we have no idea what the capabilities or numbers of the blood mages are."


    "So long term, they will be weakened, but not broken, and we need to keep the two forces apart," Green clarified, only getting a slight eyebrow crook in reply from Nareta. After a bit too long of a pause where Green was looking at the woman to see if she would do anything else, he hesitantly continued, "In the short term¡­ we need to find and destroy the main northern force of the Crescent Moon. Are you sure there will be one up here? They could just be raiding the forts to keep them off balance." Green said, gesturing to the warbands burning fields with only a few of the outer forts actually being anything close to attacked right then.


    "They have to," Kanieta said, "Seventy thousand warriors aren''t going to magically appear all by themselves. They can''t get through the Northern Forest, and I already sent troops to hold the gap between this line of fortresses and the forest. Going around the fortresses while dealing with increasing numbers of the Lost, they won''t have the food. The only option is to punch a hole."


    "If they have to punch a hole," Green muttered, his eyes sweeping back and forth over the forts, "The farther to the east, the weaker their troops become, and too close to the forest, you will send a force out to trap them against the forts while they attack."


    Kanieta nodded in agreement, "We might not have the forces to take them on in a head-on battle, but they have a lot of territory to defend, and we can focus on a single point. Derg, or his advisers, knows it too. There really aren''t many options of where to attack with all the scorched ground between us."


    "So they will expect you to try something, but not us¡­" Kanieta looked at Green, expecting an explanation of the vague statement. "Everyone inside the forts might not be legion trained," Green said, sweeping his hand out to take in all of the towers sticking up over the gently rolling hills. "But there should be enough to form a legion."


    Kanieta''s ears flicked as she grew excited at the thought. If they could convince the Olimpians to fight with her, then it would open up an entire front on Derg, drawing away more resources.


    But working together did not look like it was going to happen.


    She didn''t know what happened here over the last month, much to her embarrassment and shame, but it didn''t take a genius to figure out that atrocities were being committed. Anyone from the Cradle working with her factions of the Kin was¡­ unlikely.


    But it would still be worth a try. The worst that could happen was they tried to kill her, but Kanieta doubted they would succeed. Foxes were nothing if not slippery.


    Nodding her head as she made up her mind, Kanieta said, "We should try and make contact, but we should not distract ourselves. Our main objective is to find the Crescent Moon Camp and prepare for our assault."


    Green grunted in acknowledgment, but his eyes were already glazed over, and he was looking off to the side, his emerald eyes slightly squinted. A flare of annoyance welled up inside of Kanieta as he was distracted by nothing while talking to her¡­ again! But she chose to be the bigger woman and pushed the emotion down. For the seventh time¡­


    Franklin was too preoccupied with keeping an eye on the test subject, so Kanieta turned to her cousin to have the important conversation, "Should we follow or wander in the dark."


    Nareta looked at the small packs of wolves setting fires to the fields, then said, "They won''t go back without accomplishing something. And they aren''t going to accomplish anything doing that. We would have to find a likely fortress to fall, then wait for it to happen."


    "It''s going to be dark tonight. We can cover a lot of ground."


    "And never find anything, always dancing around our objective while an unnoticed fortress falls."


    "So we should do both and see who gets lucky."


    "Obviously, that was what I said in the first place."


    "The warband should be here in four days. They will have to pull back if we don''t find it by then." Hurring added.


    "So we don''t have any time to waste." Kanieta told him before returning to her cousin, "I''m going to scout. You go find a place for you and the baggage to hide while I go do all the work."


    Nareta grimaced at Kanieta before releasing a world-weary sigh and looking away in resigned compliance.


    "Good," Kanieta chirped, "Now, if you excuse¡ª


    "No," Green said, cutting Kanieta off and stopping her as she got up, "We need to go in that direction. There is something over there."


    Turning, Kanieta saw Green looking away from the fortresses to the southeast, his face twisted with curiosity.

 B2 Chapter 40

    Panta looked at the bag placed on his desk, then looked up at Quineeta with a slightly raised eyebrow, silently commanding her to explain her actions.


    His Prefect had barged into his offices with a haggard, dirty woman following on her heels. Before his door was slammed shut, he saw a line of legionaries in the hallway.


    There were always at least two of his personal guards outside of the room he was in and usually two more inside. It was far from common to have what sounded like a century outside his doors. And it caused his two guards inside the room to tightly clutch at their hilts and stiffen from where they stood at the door.


    For a moment, the thought of Quineeta trying to remove him from command passed through his mind, but he dismissed it. Besides the fact he was no longer in the Isles, she didn''t have the air of betrayal around her.


    Not that he had experienced such things in the Isles himself, but he had heard that it occasionally happened, rare that it was.


    Removing a Legatus was not a local affair, as the Senate would likely get involved, bringing too much attention to whatever local scheme was being enacted.


    No, if his Prefect was here with that many guards, she thought they were needed. Which means¡­ trouble was inside that bag, and she was about to dump it all onto his lap.


    Panta held back a sigh as he just watched his Prefect, patiently waiting for her to do something. There was no need for him to rush into trouble because, eventually, it would all come to him.


    Quineeta didn''t answer his silent question with words, instead moving to open the bag. As the rough hemp fell to the sides, Panta''s back stiffened, and his breathing hitched for an instant as surprise overwhelmed his self-control. He let out his breath in a long exhale as he slowly leaned back.


    His eyes were half closed as he raised his arms, placing them on his armrest and clasping his hands over each other in front of his chest, slowly tapping his right index finger against his left knuckle. His eyes roved over the head, taking in every detail.


    The ears were sharply pointed and narrowed like an elf''s, but they were too short and angled more up than out. They were longer than a human and half-humans, but still not quite as long as all the elves he had met. The skin was also dark, almost a light violet. The skin wouldn''t be the same when he was alive compared to when he was dead, as the blood leaking out and decomposition changed it, but it still wasn''t typical of elves. The canines were sharper and longer, like fangs, and the other teeth also came to a slight point. The hair was a bright silver, where it was not stained a too dark red with his blood. Even the nose, cheekbones, and forehead were sharper and narrower than he was used to seeing, giving an alien feeling to the head. But more than anything, the eyes were like nothing he had ever seen, a pure, empty black taking up the eye sockets.


    Slowly, he broke his hands apart and leaned forward, letting two fingers brush and poke into the waxy, cool skin of the once-living creature. He had touched dead bodies before, and that was precisely what this was.


    "So," Panta said, pulling his hand back and clasping them together again, "dark elves exist."


    Panta knew logically they would. There was no reasonable way for the events to be playing out the way they were without a hidden force being the scenes. But that secret power could be any number of things, and a hint of doubt had remained in the back of his mind.


    That doubt was gone now.


    "Yes," Quineeta said, then gestured to the woman standing to the side of the room next to one of his guards. "She can give you a verbal report if you want, though I have a written one here." She slapped a pile of papers onto the desk that she seemed to pull from nowhere.


    "No need for that," Panta said, gesturing toward the door while reaching for the stack of papers. Grabbing them, he started quickly flicking through them, seeing the legionary move to leave from the corner of his eye.


    "Wait," he said, causing the woman to stop. "Disregard that order. We might need you." Then Panta turned to look at his Prefect, "Send runners to call our Tribune Latic and Legatus Hellieous. We are going to have to brief them on the situation. And order the legion to be on alert."


    Quineeta saluted, then stepped to the door, quickly stepping out.


    Panta continued to flip through the report as he offhandedly said, "Make yourself comfortable, Scout Kathren. You are going to be here a while."


    The young woman jumped as he spoke to her, then no doubt frantically tried to figure out how her superior knew her name, a fate some would rather die than achieve. Panta felt his lips twitch in a faint smile at her distress.


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    Her uneasy shuffling stopped a moment later as she no doubt concluded that he had read it in the report before she hesitantly moved to the closest side of the room, where a leather couch sat against the wall with a small table in front of it.


    She paused at that moment, no doubt worried that she would stain it. "Humph," Panta snorted with slight amusement, "There is no reason to worry about running it, scout. It has undoubtedly seen far more than what you have on you."


    Flinching again like he had whipped her, the young woman jumped into the seat and tried her hardest to look relaxed while mumbling, "Thank you, Legatus."


    A few moments later, Quineeta came back into the room. She poured herself a goblet of wine from the table in front of the scout, then moved to the seats on the opposite side of the room from the couch, where two chairs were on the sides of a small bookcase.


    Panta finished the report, then moved on to finishing up some other business before everything started going to shit. They settled into a companionable silence as they waited.


    When the door burst open a short time later, the scout jumped in her seat from where she had started to drowse off, coming to attention and saluting in instinct. Panta finished skimming the form he was on and then signed it, setting his pen to the side as he looked up and clasped his hand on his desk.


    The young woman storming into his office did not look amused to be up at such an early hour, nor did she like being ignored for him finishing his work. And yet, her pride was too much for her to ask why she had been summoned.


    At least before Panta spoke first. If he was a betting man, he would put his life on the line that she would die in this room before speaking first. The pride of nobles was never to be underestimated, he thought with scorn, repeating one of his long-held beliefs.


    The Legatus that entered the room a moment later looked slightly disheveled but far less concerned about being awake at this time in the morning. He might be part of the Senatorial Guard now, but he was still a legionary at his core, and under the rust inflicted by the festering swamp he worked in, it showed. The question was if he could shake off the rust in time to matter.


    Gesturing to the door with his chin, Panta signaled one of his guards, who moved to close it. When it clicked shut, he said, "Thank you for jo¡ª


    "What is this about." Snapped his Tribune Latic, cutting him off with a seething hiss. "I was in my bed sl¡ª W-what in Holy Elementals is that!"


    The young woman started pedaling back in disgust as Panta turned the severed head on the pile of trash to face her. He found it oddly poetic. No matter what the bards said, there was nothing glorious about battle and death. Placing a severed head on a pile of trash seemed right.


    "That," Panta calmly said, "is what our enemy looks like. The one you told the Kin didn''t exist. Or wasn''t within our walls."


    "Wh-wh-what?" The woman screamed, her back hitting the far wall, eyes locked on the severed head. She wasn''t paying attention to anything around her.


    Her reaction was like she had never seen a severed limb before¡­ Sighing, Panta thought, given her family''s status, that is probably accurate.


    On the other hand, Hellieous took in the head with little more than a blink and a quick once-over before he stepped forward, acting on his own initiative for what might be the first time since coming to the Triad. "Where did you find it."


    Gesturing to his left with a finger and a slight tilt of his head, Panta caused the Legatus to look at Scout Kathren as he spoke, "My Prefect started an undercover operation. This scout worked her way into the slums over the course of a couple weeks, at which point she was able to find and kill one of the dark elves residing within my walls. You can ask her to verify this report, but I think it will be a waste of your time."


    "Preposterous!" Shrieked the Tribune Latic Ponpti as she stomped forward, "This head is obviously fake! This woman must be in league with the beastkin, so we are busy chasing our own tails rather than preparing for an assault to push them back while they are unprepared. Like I have bee¡ª Ahh! My dress!"


    She screamed, cutting off her little tirade when she tried to pick up the head to prove it was fake, only to have the coagulated blood on the neck drip onto her. There was a meaty whack as the head hit the ground and a slight rocking as it came to a stop.


    ¡°¡­What can we believe from the¡­ Kin?" Asked Hellieous after looking up from the head, though the last part was like he was forcing words out of his throat after they were ground up by stones.


    "I''m inclined to believe all of it," Panta stated as he leaned back in his chair. His voice didn''t waver, and his eyes never left the man towering over his desk.


    "Pifft!" The man snorted, "You would trust the words of savages who attacked us?"


    "The number of people I trust implicitly can be counted on one hand. But do I trust them to give us the information to fight an enemy they are fleeing from? Yes. They got our attention and forced us to respond in force. They could have caused far more destruction but remained generally passive. They are what amounts to refugees fleeing from a superior force after centuries of war. An enemy that we have just found proof of, as they infiltrated our ranks." Panta''s words filled the room with a heavy silence.


    He let everyone marinate in that silence for a moment before he started talking again. "I don''t know if the Kin will betray us, but I know the Latarri are making no effort to contact us. They have done nothing to earn our trust and have slunk around in the shadows, hiding from us while they learn about us. If they are not trying to find our weaknesses to destroy us, I fail to grasp what else they could be trying to do. And I would rather have an honest foe I must face head-on than one I must always be searching for, lest they plant a knife in my back any day of the week."


    "What do you suggest we do?" Asked a clear, light voice as it rang through the room a moment after Panta finished speaking.


    Panta turned his eyes from Hellieous and looked to his Tribune Latic. If nothing else, Panta had to admit she was quick to gather herself.


    She was now standing next to Legatus Hellieous, her back straight and hands clasped behind her. Her chin was held high, pointing her nose into the air, and any shame that she might have felt about improper conduct or poor decisions never even crossed her face. Political creature through and through, he thought.


    "That part is easy." Panta said, leaning forward and planting his elbows on his desk, the corner of the right side of his lip quirking, "We clean house. And see how far the rot goes."

 B2 Chapter 41

    Kathren jumped forward in small hops as she marched, trying to settle the weight of her armor and make it comfortable. Letting out a sight, she had to give up.


    It was a futile effort. The armor was sitting fine, but Kathren had never felt right wearing armor when covered in grime. And this wasn''t just grime.


    The level of filth on her body would need to be scraped off with a knife before she bathed a half-dozen times and then cleaned her now filthy armor. She was throwing out a lowball number of bathing attempts, too, trying not to flinch at the level of work it would take to finally get clean.


    It wasn''t even her own mental hangups about being clean while wearing armor that was at play here, either. Putting armor on with all of the filth still on her skin was trapping it between two layers.


    Experience told Kathren that her skin would be the losing side between the makeshift sand and the leather and steel shell pressing down. Which was slightly more annoying than the fetid puffs of air she occasionally got when the air between her skin and armor was pushed out.


    There was no choice on her part. The legates decided the best option was a sudden and frontal assault on the slums.


    The dark elves have been hiding for who knows how long and doing who knows what to who knows who¡­ soo, throwing all subterfuge out the window seemed like the best choice. There was no shame in admitting when one was outclassed.


    The Senatorial Guard legions were being placed on high alert for an attack or being called on for support, while the 15th was marching into the slums of Southtown to clear them out. Every building was to be scoured for secrets no matter what they were or who they belonged to.


    Even the cavalry attached to the legions were taking part in the operation as they were being sent outside the walls of Southtown on patrol, looking for tunnel exits that any rats might come bursting out of.


    Kathren was part of the first wave being sent into the slums. While the whole legion was ready to march, there was a big difference between fighting on the walls and searching a city.


    And ensuring they did it right without creating holes for the rats to slip through was a genuine concern. It would take time for a proper plan to be developed and implemented.


    Part of the time could be made up by the cohorts being stationed at the edges of the slums in preparation, but more than that could cause more problems than it would help.


    But there was a real need for speed, as the dark elves probably already knew they were coming. So Kathren was sent out as something of a guide for three centuries to find and attack the dark elves'' headquarters. A small enough force that it might be looked over but large enough to threaten pretty much anything that should be in a town.


    Kathren was sure where the dark elves ''territory'' was, as it took up the southwestern section of the third ring right next to where the Butcher hunted and was bordered on the other side by the old docks. But she never heard anything specific about it during her time in the slums.


    Meaning she had nowhere to lead the centuries as they marched to attack the headquarters. After direct knowledge, she had the next best thing, though.


    While she did not remember in the heat of the moment, the thought popped into her mind when she marched back to the fort with the century that saved her hours ago. Not that it was surprising she thought of it then, as Kathren was given plenty of time to reflect on her recent life choices.


    After the first devastating attack on the 8th century of the 7th cohort in the 15th legion, there were only two more disordered ambushes, which were falling apart before they were even starting to charge.


    Their path was eerily empty and left plenty of time for everyone''s mind to wander into distraction. It was a bad situation where every second mattered when combating an ambush, but an attack never materialized to take advantage of it.


    So Kathren was left to remember a gang that had recently burst into prominence in the slums. The Knife Ears. And she knew what tavern their mine base was. It was pretty obvious.


    Kathren wasn''t one to put too much stock into coincidences, but many gangs were named after their leaders. And it just so happened that she was led through alleys like a trapped rat before "escaping" right in time for a half-elf to wink at her as salvation appeared.


    And her saviors were easily¡ª no, it was worse than that, the 8th century was effortlessly dealt a devastating blow, taking over ten percent casualties, and then nothing. Kathren caught people shadowing them, but they never attacked.


    There were just too many anomalies to brush off her conjecture as baseless.


    Pounding on the door she just walked up to with a closed fist, Kathren stepped back and to the side past the doorframe. There was no need to stand in front of a door you had no idea what was on the other side of.


    Seconds passed, and something behind the door thumped as it was moved, followed by the scraping of wood inside the room. Then, the surprisingly thick door slid open with not so much as a creek, and the gray light of the early morning lit up the figure''s feet before he stepped onto the street.


    It was the half-elf, a slight smile curling his lips. His arms were crossed over his loose-fitting, clean, white tunic. Slowly, he raised his left hand, holding a pipe up to his mouth, clamping the stem between his teeth.


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    Kathren''s eyes flicked up and to the side, focusing on the image painted onto a wood square carved with intricate vines at its edges above the door. It was two knives, their hilts angled toward each other and separated by what would roughly be a head. The style of the knives and how they were angled¡­ They really do look like ears.


    Pulling her thoughts back to the present, Kathren said, "I believe you have a proposition for us."


    The smile spreading over the man''s face was smug as he breathed out a puff of smoke, then said, "Indeed." Slowly, the man half-turned, giving a sharp tilt of his head out of the building before turning and walking down the street.


    Kathren heard the creaking of leather and shuffling of feet as the legionaries around her braced themselves for an attack that never came. Four other figures stepped out of the building, following the half-elf.


    Three of them were big, burly men carrying small trees, but the fourth sent a shiver of fear down Kathren''s spine as he slinked out of the shadow of the building into the light.


    It was the wiry, knife-wielding man. He looked mildly annoyed, and his movements were sharp as he seemed to lash out at the light around him. When he saw Kathren, he gave her an amused smile and chuckled to himself.


    Turning, Kathren quick-stepped to catch up to the arrogant, pointy-eared man, who was all but ignoring the line of legionaries next to him as he walked down their ranks.


    As she stepped up beside him, he slowly spoke, "I will show¡­ you their main base. I want my territory¡­ to be left alone."


    Kathren studied the man from the side of her eye as she looked ahead. "Why you jumping ship now? You had plenty of time to come forward." While sending through the mental network to the commanding tribune, she said, "I believe he is acting in good faith." She received a pulse of skeptical agreement as the centuries started marching.


    The man let out a scoffing huff, "A rat cannot make peace with the snake in its burrow."


    It was the longest sentence Kathren had heard the man speak, but she focused on the analogy, agreeing with it. Then her lips quirked as she asked, "So you''re a rat?"


    "Humph." The man snorted with amusement, "I am many¡­ unsavory things¡­ but not a traitor."


    "At least you have some line that you won''t cross. I have met many who would do anything for more power. Or money. Nothing is considered sacred to them but their own lives." Kanieta watched him from the corner of her eye, looking for any signs of unease about leading them into a trap. He has to know that if we are betrayed, he will be one of the first to be killed.


    "Not much of¡­ a choice."


    "Why is that."


    "I can feel¡­ their emotions. They despise us all¡­ their rule will¡­ not be pleasant."


    Kathren''s eyes were pulled from the rundown buildings they were passing as they headed to the southwestern portion of the third ring. He can feel their emotions? That must mean he is quite the strong telepath¡­ Relaying her thought to the tribune, he agreed to be on the lookout before she returned to the conversation.


    "I met the Butcher," Kathren said, her voice filled with disgust as she spoke of the beast in the shape of a man. Her upbringing had beaten a healthy loathing for that type of monster into her. She wouldn''t go out of her way, but if she happened to chance across one, she would happily slit their throats. "I know how they think."


    "Haa," Scoffed the half-elf, "He is the kindest¡­ of them. At least what he does... only lasts a night."


    "Explain," Kathren said evenly, her flare of rage at his dismissal dropping off the cliff and into the hole forming in her gut at his words.


    "You will see," His lethargic voice grew empty at those words, and Kathren could not suppress a shiver of fear from running down her spine. It was like a monster''s slow, steady breathing suddenly stopped as you walked by their cave. There was a chance it could have spontaneously died, but you know those holes suddenly boring into you weren''t just the rocks.


    As suddenly as it came, the oppressive feeling he was giving off vanished. The desire to talk was gone, and without asking, she knew he would not answer more questions. They traveled in silence.


    The sound of thudding feet was the only noise on the street, but few came out to look at them as they passed. The few dirty faces that Kathren caught sight of poking out around a building or through a curtain were filled with fear and hatred.


    Their procession soon came to an area that Kathren was familiar with. It was the spot where she met the Halfelf, and soon after, they were walking along the border of the deserted portion of the slums where the Butcher hunted.


    When the half-elf stopped walking, a wave of unease and tension washed over Kathren from the Union. Everyone expected archers to pop up on the roof and a mob to storm out of the alleys, but nothing happened.


    The man turned to Kathren, and the tension in the air became palpable, but the only response was a twitch of the man''s lips in amusement before his hand flicked to the north. "Their base is two¡­ streets to the north. An old merchant''s manor¡­ surrounded by a small wall."


    Kathren''s eyes flicked to the north, then looked to the southwest, where the rumors on the street said the dark elves were based.


    Before she could voice her thoughts, Halfelf said, "It''s a trap. You think a bunch of¡­ reavers could be found¡­ so easily?"


    Closing her mouth with a small click of her teeth, Kathren had to admit that it made sense. Why would she¡­


    Flaring her psy pool, she wrinkled her brows as she felt a slight twinge of pain behind her eye, as he felt a weak resistance that vanished all at once.


    All she had ever heard were rumors that their base was located in the southwestern portion of the third ring. And yet she was ready to lead an attack in that direction¡­


    "I''m inclined to trust him," Kathren said into the mental network.


    "On what grounds," Rumbled the tribune angust that was in overall command of their force.


    "I was too ready to believe and act on information with only rumors to prove its authenticity. I believe I was under the influence of a wide-ranging telepathic casting."


    "Are you compromised?"


    "No," Kathren sent with absolute surety within her thoughts. "But I welcome you to check."


    Taking the invitation, Kathren felt a weight upon her mind, and she let the watcher look past her mental shields and into her inner thoughts. The tribune didn''t try to tear her memories apart, only checking to ensure there were no scars within her mind, suggesting that her mind had been ripped apart and fiddled with.


    "We will trust him, but he will be kept close." replied the tribune before moving his attention elsewhere.


    Seeing that they were going to trust him, the half-elf pointed down the street two blocks and said, "That alley to this one... has straight paths¡­ to the manor. As soon as you¡­ step foot into¡­ them, they will know."


    Passing the information along, Kathren watched the centuries move into position to charge down the alleys without breaking their opening. A single squad broke off the circle around her, the half-elf, and his men.


    "Not the most¡­ trusting." the large man commented.


    Her tone flat, Kathren asked, "Would you be?"


    The annoying man only smiled to himself in response.

 B2 Chapter 42

    "Charge!" The mental order tore through Kathren''s and everyone else''s minds in the union.


    Like the gates of a horse race being flung open, the legionaries lined up at the entrance of the alleys burst into action. With all the trash taking up the sides and the generally small nature of alleys, only three legionaries could stand side by side within them.


    Kathren watched the three lines pouring into the alleys from the opposite side of the street to avoid getting in the way. There was hardly a gap between one figure and the next as they went from a dead stop to a sprint.


    No one said a word, and the only sounds were the clanking of steel, pounding of feet, and heavy breathing. Within a minute, the three hundred legionaries had moved through the alley and were in the process of crossing the next street street over.


    Kathren and the squad of legionaries, along with the half-elf and his cronies, quickly moved down the middle alley a dozen feet from the last line of legionaries.


    Breath steady as she moved, Kathren kept her head on the swivel as she tried to keep track of everything around her. She was a scout, after all. Kathren might not have anything else to do now, but she would be damned if she allowed someone to easily sneak up on the rear of the formation.


    Not that all of her attention was on searching the shadows. Part of her mind was keeping track of the legionaries'' positions. So she knew that as she was exiting the alley, the front of the line was leaving the end of the next alley and laying eyes on the outer walls of the mansion compound.


    The new road was empty except for them, but it did nothing to soothe Kathren''s worries. It was too still, like when the animals in a forest were hiding from a passing predator.


    She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand on end as it felt like something was watching her, prompting her to search every shadow a second time. And release a pulse that flashed down the street¡­ revealing nothing but stone and trash.


    Kathren''s fingers played over the hilts of her knives and spikes, reassuring herself that whatever happened, she would not go down without a fight.


    Before she could take more than a few steps to cross the street, she saw the mental snapshots the leading legionaries sent through the union. Armed figures were running through the merchant compound, converging on the front gates of the merchant''s estate to meet the legionaries in battle.


    Mere moments from the two waves of flesh colliding, the mental network started filling with frantic flashes of battle. The torrent of sendings jumbled her clear picture of the centuries'' positions.


    With the two sides meeting, the press of bodies soon locked tight, and the legionaries stopped, blocking any progress down the alleys.


    "Get to a roof," Rumbled a slow but firm voice beside her.


    Kathren looked over to see the half-elf pointing to a building between the leftmost and center centuries. His Jaw was set, and his eyes were hard while they never stopped moving.


    He felt the danger pursuing them, and he wanted a place where he could see it coming. It was an idea that Kathren could get behind.


    "Let''s go," Kathren said as she shot forward. She passed the back ranks of the centuries, still sticking out of the alleys. As she approached the scarred and rotting door of the building, she released a blast of psy, shattering the door into splinters.


    Ducking her head from the tiny needles of wood blowing back at her, she entered the building. Though the light of the morning lit up the area just inside the door, it did little else when all the shutters were closed, though there were beams of light stabbing through the holes in the shutters.


    Releasing a pulse, Kathren got a mental picture of the room she was entering. It was some kind of old shop, and the counter and a few shelves were still in place among the piles scattered around this front room. She ignored them, as none were large enough to hide anyone. There was a hallway leading to rooms further back in the building, but she didn''t pay attention to it as there was a flight of stairs to her right.


    At a careful walk, she moved across the dark room. There was no need to hurt herself by rushing into an old building.


    Reaching the stairwell, she kept one hand on a wall as she stepped up, picking up the pace as she ascended. The farther she went, the more the light bleeding in from the window at the landing outlined the borders of the steps.


    Kathren glanced at the window, noticing the light was from a broken shutter hanging at a sharp angle from its bottom anchor. Turning on her heel, she started up the next flight, this one with only darkness welcoming her at the top.


    It took longer than Kathren would have liked to move up the stairs of the three-story building, as the battle was always in the back of her mind, pushing her to act. Not that she didn''t have an excuse, as even within inhabited buildings, the stairwells were notoriously dark.


    It was also a good excuse to explain why she tripped more than once.


    Even wasting her psy in a pulse didn''t help that much, as her memory wasn''t so great that she could remember the exact number of stairs on one flight.


    "Void, take you!" Kathren hissed as she ignored the stifled chuckles from behind at the loud thump of her hitting her head on the trap door. Her hands fumbled around for a moment before she released a small pulse to find the latch.


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    With a jerk of her arm and a small grunt of effort, she pulled the latch to the side and threw the trap door to the side.


    Gratefully, Kathren sucked in a breath of the gust of fresh air diving to welcome her. She left the dusty cobweb-infested pit behind with a quick hope, trying to ignore the phantom feeling of spiderwebs sticking to her skin as she rubbed her hands against her vambraces.


    A few quick strides later, Kathren was at the edge of the roof, looking down on the battle raging in the street. She could not tell exactly what was going on through the mental network, as the flood of impressions and images was coming so fast that if she opened up to them, it would take all of her concentration to sort through them without being overwhelmed.


    What she could pick up was that things weren''t going great.


    As she reached the waist-high railing and got a look at the weird battle below, she didn''t understand why.


    Instead of forming their line just inside the gates to negate some of the advantages of the legionaries'' numbers, the manor defenders had formed a defensive ring around the outside of the gate. Any competent commander would know they were just asking for their force to be smashed against the walls. And that when their lines broke, most would be cut down before they could retreat back into the walls, lessening the effectiveness of any future defense.


    Why are they having so muc¡­ Kathren thought with bewilderment before trailing as a cold shiver of fear ran down her spine. She understood the problem now.


    What the defenders were doing was viciously effective, though no force should be able to do it like this.


    No matter how deep into a union one fell, there remained a sense of self-preservation within every individual. Some might be willing to throw their lives away for the sake of others, but most were less than willing.


    But this wasn''t throwing their lives away to save another. This was dying to kill just one more person.


    Sure, there were records of it happening in a legion, but it was when they were surrounded with no hope of survival, and the only reason a history of their fight existed was that a single knight messenger escaped or a scroll was preserved in the center of all the destruction, documenting their struggle. It wasn''t anything like this.


    The defenders of the mansion had archers on its roof. When they released a volley, their front lines would throw themselves into an attack.


    Kathren watched them lash out with swords and spears at the smallest of gaps in the formation. Sometimes, they weren''t even attacking an opening but to force the shield to remain in place, preventing them from blocking the arrows. A few of the defenders were throwing their bodies onto swords and shields, breaking the legionaries'' defenses long enough to allow the arrows to sink into their flesh.


    It was not a one-sided slaughter, as when the defenders lashed out, they would leave themselves open for a counterattack. But what did that matter when the only ones that seemed to care about life were the legionaries?


    The defenders were willing to take what would be a fatal wound a minute from now to create an opening for the archers. Or be struct in the back by the very arrows they were trying to make land a glancing blow.


    "They are mindless," said a cold voice next to Kathren. "Puppets piloted from afar."


    Kathren turned to look at the half-elf, incredulity burning in her eyes. To break a mind like that was¡­ beyond illegal. Besides just how hard it was to do it, whenever a person was found with their mind broken, a mob always formed to hunt for the perpetrator.


    ¡­But what other explanation could there be? What survivor living in the slums would ever sacrifice themselves for anyone, not their child? And even then, it wasn''t a hard rule, more of a borderline exception.


    This kind of fighting was¡­ unnatural. And would take a leader who doesn''t care in the slightest about those they were commanding. And the fighters would know what their leaders thought of them as soon as they entered the mental network. Which would lead them to rebel or surrender as soon as fighting started unless¡­ they had no mind of their own. Feck me.


    Motion to her left caused Kathren to turn her head, and her eyes widened in shock. "Ambush!" She shouted mentally and physically as she dove to the side, assisted with a tendril of psy.


    She heard a series of thrums from the bowstring, and then the whistling of the arrows they propelled passed over her head a moment later as she rolled over her shoulder. Popping to her feet, she briefly worried about more arrows being loosed at her but quickly threw the thought aside. They would hit her, or they wouldn''t. She needed to focus on what to do next lest the opportunity fall from her grasp.


    Kathren''s hands were already on the hilts of her knives, and she drew them as she ran toward the trapdoor and the hooded figures crawling out of it.


    The six figures on the roof had just released their arrows and were reaching for another one, but they didn''t have the time.


    It would still take Kathren three more strides to reach them, but they were within range of her spikes. She drove two of her nine-inch metal spikes at the closest figure who was aiming their bow at her.


    There was plenty of time for the archer to react, as her spikes weren''t nearly as fast as a thrown spear or a bow, but they didn''t respond at all, only continuing to pull the arrow from the quiver and move to place it on their string.


    Even when each of the spikes had four inches of steel embedded within his chest, probably puncturing his heart and liver, he didn''t so much as release a grunt of pain, let alone have his movements impeded.


    Eyes widening with shock and more than a bit of fear, Kathren saw the archer drawing back the string, preparing to shoot her point blank, even if he was already a member of the walking dead.


    Pulling back her tendrils, Kathren tried to quickly form a concentrated blast of psy to deflect the arrow, but her desperation proved pointless, as she felt a figure loom behind her, releasing a burst of psy past her head.


    Kathren might have heard the twang of the bow, but it was hard to tell over the growing din of battle. Though she thought she heard the crack of wood as the bastard''s bow snapped.


    What she did know was that she didn''t have an arrow in her chest, and the bow was now clattering on the ground, broken in half.


    Closing the distance with the hooded figure, who was casually reaching for another arrow, she drove her knife into the side of his neck, severing his spine.


    As the figure fell, his hood fell from his face. His eyes were blank and lifeless, even as he lay on the ground, blinking slowly up at her. It was like he didn''t care that he could no longer move or blood was bubbling past his lips.


    Ripping her eyes from the man, Kathren moved into the ranks of the archers, lashing out with quick strikes to the head with her knives and bloody spikes she tore from the body at her feet.


    They were helpless, hardly reacting to her as she and the looming presence behind her rushed forward, scything through their numbers.


    When she reached the door, and those still coming out, they started to react differently by pulling out swords, but it was already too late. Her spikes were already pulling back and punching down. The three on the stairs quickly had gaping holes in their necks, bleeding out on the steps.


    With a heaving chest, Kathren turned to face the figure who had covered her back nearly from the beginning, surprised to see the half-elf standing there.


    She blinked in surprise for a second, then gave him a short nod of recognition. Casually, she cleaned her knives and sheath them to suppress the instinct to brush at her hair as she asked, "Soo~, what''s your name anyway?"


    His lips twitched in amusement as he answered, ¡°Redgenald."

 B2 Chapter 43

    "Get down!" Roared a voice behind Redgenald. Before Kathren could turn to look at the blur of motion, the half-elf was falling forward. A look of shock passed over his face before it went blank, and his body suddenly swerved to the side, causing his shoulder to slam into her chest.


    Kathren tried to catch herself, but a fist of panic clenched her heart when her right heel hit a body as she stepped back. She tried to turn and plant her other foot on solid ground as she stumbled backward, but her foot came down on the side of another body. Her foot twisted from the uneven footing, and her leg was thrown to the side. As her fall continued, her weight came down on her left leg, causing a spike of pain to be driven through her knee.


    Letting her leg collapse and turning into her fall at the pain, she was faced with her fate and could only let out a small whimper. If it was at the coming pain or embarrassment, Kathren didn''t know. She still threw out her arms to fail uselessly in the air, hoping for some miracle, but it changed nothing.


    The dark pit surrounded by the ledge of the trapdoor''s frame was still quickly and inevitably approaching.


    As her head passed her feet by entering the stairwell, Kathren caught a glimpse of Redgenald''s eyebrows rising in mild surprise and amusement as he twisted to land on the ground between two bodies. Then she lost sight of the future dead man as she tumbled down the stairs, releasing involuntary grunts of pain every time she bounced or rolled over a new step on her way down.


    Coming to a final, thudding stop, Kathren lay on her side for a long moment, taking in all the spots on her body screaming at her. With a groan of effort, she flopped onto her back, looking up at the square of light and distant muffled shouts and screams coming down the stairwell, steadily increasing in volume.


    Or maybe the ringing all around her was finally dying down. Who could say?


    Blinking at the distant square of light slowly coming closer, Kathren knew she had to get up. She could feel it. The spikes of alarm and garbled rushed commands coursing through the mental network told her that much.


    But it took nearly half a dozen sluggish blinks before the world came rushing back to her as she sucked in a magnificent breath of air. It was the best breath she could ever remember taking.


    Coughing, Kathren rolled to the side and scrabbled to her feet but only made it halfway before collapsing to the ground again.


    Besides the fact that the world around her started to spin and darken at the edges, which was coming back into focus, Kathren''s leg screamed at her that it was in the middle of a rebellion until further notice.


    With a few kicks from her new favorite leg and some flopping around interspersed with groans, she found herself slumped against a wall as the world was pounded back into focus by the throbbing in her head.


    Kathren''s hands went to her knives and spikes, a small wave of relief rushing through her as she found most of them were still there. That was the point of having a dozen and a half weapons. Even if some asshat knocked you down¡­ let''s say, a hill, you still got way more than you should need.


    Pushing herself off the wall, she shuffled and hopped her way into balance at the base of the stairs. With her left hand leaning on the wall, she thudded up the first step with gritted teeth.


    The first few steps were a struggle as every hop sent a bolt of pain from her knee to her head. By the time she was halfway up, Kathren had resigned herself to using psy to help her move, and she was almost climbing the stairs normally.


    As Kathren neared the top of the stairs, she skimmed the union to discover the situation. Freezing a moment as the clusterfuck became clear, she cursed under her breath and bent down next to the body she was passing.


    She took a few moments to wrestle free the quiver from the dead woman, slipping it over her head with only a few muffled curses, then grabbed the bow before getting up the last steps. Putting arrow to string, Kathren slowly started poking her head over the lip of the opening, her new bow raised and partially drawn.


    Kathren was not a great anchor. She wasn''t even that good of one. What Kathren was is a passable archor. And even that was a recent change.


    When she decided to become a scout, she spent hours of her time off duty at the camp archery range, trying to pick up tricks from anyone who would teach her.


    It quickly became apparent that she would never become a good archer, but at least she knew how to handle a bow. Not that it mattered, as she was great with knives, and spikes were basically knives you used with tendrils.


    As a scout, you had probably already failed if you ever had to fight. But if you did have to fight, it would either be up close and personal as a trap was sprung or someone attacking at a distance, hoping to kill or wound their pursuer enough to escape. Having a blatant weakness seemed like an excellent way to be thrown out of the scout training program, so she wanted to learn enough to be considered acceptable.


    If she had known that the Triad would be attacked and have most of their scouts killed, forcing them to accept everyone who signed up, she would have never wasted her time.


    During her rushed training, Kathren cursed the hindsight that came with life and how it was so clear about her wasted effort.


    Now, though, she was thankful she could shoot a bow.


    Poking her head high enough over the ledge to see the rooftop, Kathren scanned the area. What was left of the gangsters and the squad of legionaries were¡­ pinned down.


    Kathren''s mouth twitched in amusement at the pun. You know, because the group looked like a giant pincushion. She could see that at least five legionaries and one of the gangsters were dead. Not that those still alive had gotten off light, as they all looked like they had at least one arrow sticking out of them and couldn''t move, but they were still crouching strong for now.


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    The gangsters had picked up a shield from the dead, and they had joined the legionaries'' circle with their shields facing out with the bodies of the dead piled around their feet. Each shield looked like it held half a dozen arrows, some of them looking like they had punched through the shield and into the arm of the holder. But like a proper shield wall, none of the shields so much as wavered.


    Kathren was about to stand and take a shot at one of the archers she knew had to be on the surrounding buildings, but she felt a tendril probing her mind. The controller wasn''t trying to hide it at all and was actively having the tendril give off a clear path to follow.


    Glancing over, Kathren could sense the tendril leading behind the formation of shields. She saw the side of a face and an eye poking around the edge of a shield, but she didn''t even need to see that to know who it was. It was Redgenald.


    If Kathren was a better shot, she would shoot at him and clip the tip of his ear off as it poked out from behind the shield. But I would probably hit one of the legionaries. She thought forlornly.


    Redgenald''s eye met hers, and the way the corner of his eye wrinkled, it was as if he knew what she was thinking and also knew that she wouldn''t do it. Which didn''t make her any more inclined to accept his tendril, the cocky bastard. But the way he kept staring at her also made Kathren feel like a child who knew what she had to do and was only stalling to make the other''s victory one second farther away.


    If people weren''t dying, I would make him wait all fecken day, she fumed before sighing and giving up. He obviously wasn''t betraying them, so she tentatively reached out and connected to his tendril with one of her own. As she connected to him, she pulled out of the union with the centuries until she was only distantly linked, making all but the strongest messages impossible to hear.


    She wasn''t so trusting that she would leave an open link for him to connect to the mental network of the legion, so she throttled the link so that any information he could get was down to the bare minimum.


    "There is a target right there," his message came as soon as Kathren connected, "I will tell you when they have fired." Along with the quick mental words, Kathren received a series of images and impressions.


    The sending was so complex that it was like Kathren could see a faint outline of a figure standing on the next building over. Sending down their mental link that she was ready, she remained crouched in the stairwell.


    "Now!" Sent Redgenald.


    Flexing her good leg, Kathren sprang to her full height in a small hop. Her bow was already aimed at the location Redgenald sent, and her right hand was pulling back the string for a full draw. By the time she was halfway up on her hop, she had already spotted her target, lined up perfectly.


    Releasing her arrow, Kathren felt a satisfied smile twist her lips as she heard and felt the twang of the bow and saw the arrow leap out before her.


    All of this was because of her.


    Not only had she practiced her archery, but she also made the call to trust someone who¡­ in all likelihood, deserved to be hung before anyone trusted him with more than a copper. And yet she decided to¡­


    "Have you ever shot a bow?" Redgenald asked, his mental voice filled with incredulity. "I could shoot better while holding the bow shaft between my toes and clenching the string with my balls."


    ¡°¡­" Kathren was shocked into silence, and the mental link was filled with the mental popping and cracking of half-realized thoughts from her end. It wasn''t that she had missed so badly that her mind couldn''t process what was going on. No, nothing like that.


    If she was honest, she wasn''t that surprised she missed. It was the way he chose to describe her lack of skill that got to her more than anything. "Well, excuse fucking me¡­" she sneered, her voice filled with sarcasm. "Why don''t you drop that wood you''re holding so well and come show me how it''s done?"


    As Kathren finished sending the message, she popped up again, firing off another shot at the same target, who didn''t seem to have moved in the slightest from when she first saw him. Even though the meaty thunk of her arrow hitting home was lost to her ears with all of the screams and clangs of steel in the air from battle, she still swore she heard it. Or it could have been the feeling of a confirmed hit she felt over the link with Redgenald.


    As she received the next target from Redgenald, she sent him, "Oh, I guess you are one of those men who are all talk and needs the woman to hit the target, huh?"


    The man sent an infuriating mental chuckle as he only said, "Good hit." the simple message and new target information only made her more irritated. Especially since he gave the impression in the message about moving on while her target was still standing, as he would soon bleed out from the shot to the neck. Who is he to tell me what to do. Even if they are the right choices.


    "Go now." he sent a couple seconds later. When Kathren was hanging in the air an instant from releasing her shot, he sent her another message, "I guess you do have some practice holding a wood shaft. You''ll have to show me."


    Jerking to the side like she had been physically hit, Kathren ducked down while taking the time to half turn and give the dancing eye poking around the shield''s edge a death stair. It only made the eye crinkle with amusement.


    Turning her back to the man as best she could, Kathren drew another arrow out of her quiver, focusing on taking out her next target.


    Kathren killed another half dozen more archers on both sides of their roof, though it took more than a dozen shots for her to do it before they started reacting to her. And even then, it was more of them taking the time to crouch down behind the roof railing of the house for cover than actively targeting her.


    With the lessening of their numbers and a longer break between their shots, as they took the time to hide, the group on the roof could move and reorganize their defense more than huddling in a circle.


    A couple more people picked up bows, one of them a legionary and the other Redgenald, much to Kathren''s disgruntlement. It didn''t help he was landing more hits than her as the shields shifted to open a gap for him.


    It wasn''t long before they cleared both of the adjacent roofs, taking off enough of the pressure from the centuries below that they could storm the other buildings holding archers.


    Moving to the roof''s edge, facing their target while remaining behind the shields, Kathren and the other two archers started using their bows to shoot those on top of the manor house. But even when they hit, the effects weren''t immediately apparent, as the archers would only fall to the ground after bleeding out from the arrows for long minutes.


    When the last archer on the manor dropped, the legionaries gave a roar and pushed forward, finally free to cut through the few puppets blocking their path.


    Even with her limited connection to the union, Kathren still felt the surge of vindictive glee that ran through it as they smashed the bodies into the stone.


    Their celebration didn''t last long, and the centurion quickly took control, sending one of the centuries to search the inside of the manor, another to circle around the ground, and the third to clean up and watch the front gate.


    While everything looked calm, Kathren didn''t like the uneasy silence that settled over the street, so she stayed high, keeping watch. Minutes passed as she stood on watch, as she knew in her gut that this wasn''t over, but in the end, it didn''t matter.


    Long before she saw anything, she heard a boom, boom, boom, of marching feet. Far down the street, she saw hundreds of figures marching from the alley into the street before turning and coming toward her. And in the other direction, it was the same sight.


    She didn''t even need to check to know what she would see if she went to the other side of the house to look. Not that she would with how her knee was aching.


    Kathren would just assume they were surrounded.

 B2 Chapter 44

    I shuffled to the left of our group, turning my back on them as they were distracting me with their constant judging stairs and questions. To be fair, there was only one person with a judging stair. And her eyes were currently like a pair of daggers digging into my back. Hurring was impassive, only letting out a grunt when directly asked a question, but Franklin was asking every five minutes if I thought we would get into a fight soon.


    That was somewhat concerning because I noticed him becoming more jittery and twitchy over the last few days, and his eyes seemed to have more white to them than before. And this wasn''t just me imagining things, as I noticed everyone stepping carefully around him. Not that I really had the time to care about other''s problems with all of my own right now.


    However, I did find it mildly funny as every time I took off on the trail of our quarry, he would perk up, rushing after me. Then, whenever I stopped to search again, he would droop and almost collapse next to me like the strings holding him up were cut.


    But in the end, their presence was still distracting, so distance was needed.


    Cocking my head to the side like I was trying to hear something faint, I turned my attention inward. It wasn''t really a sound I was searching for, though technically¡­ I could say that it''s a sound.


    All sounds were transmitted by the air because how else would creating a shield around a person stop sound. I read somewhere that if you focused on a shield close enough, you could feel the vibrations of sound beating on its surface.


    So, if you thought of the ambient energy of the world as being air, anything that makes it ripple like a sound wave would be a sound, right? And if something caused a ripple that spread out like a shockwave, then he was "hearing" the noise of some casting.


    It made sense to me, even if others might not wholly agree. Not that I told anyone yet. What was I going to do, throw my analogy at the feet of the people who had the most experience on the subject? And then let them tear it apart like a pack of starving wolves?


    Yeah, no, thank you. Ahh~ shit. I mentally groaned. With all of my random thoughts, I had lost control of the tendril I was trying to form, and it dissipated.


    Putting aside the technicality, sad as it made me, I sighed and rolled my shoulders before tilting my head to try again. Fuck anyone who has something to say about it, like a certain fox. It helps me focus. I extended a single tendril an inch from my head and carefully pulled back the shield from its outside.


    Over the course of my morning''s practice, I discovered something interesting. I could strip the shielding for my tendril to the point that my tendril would dissipate into the surroundings.


    It was like trying to find a singular drop of water you put into a pond. Technically possible, but would you really be able to differentiate one drop from another once they are combined?


    Once I removed my will shielding from my casting, there was nothing separating it from the ambient energy of the world, and it just blew away like a wind. Which was strange and brought up questions for another time.


    Which was a rather annoying fact right now. Because the less of my willpower that was inside a tendril, the easier it could pick up on the ambient energy of the world and anything passing through it. The downside was that the less willpower inside a tendril, the harder it was to manipulate. Which made complete sense but only brought up more questions for me, making me more distracted.


    It was similar to when your leg fell asleep, and you tried to walk on it. Things just aren''t working as they should, and you could feel that you would hurt something if you tried to run.


    There was a middle ground between removing the willpower and feeling the ripples in the ambient energy that was hard to walk. Doing it while I had very limited practice and with the constant scrutiny of the others was only adding to my troubles.


    It also didn''t help that the ripple left a swirling eddy in its wake, sending vibrations going everywhere when it passed. Yeah, it was what allowed me to first notice it, but listening to echoes coming from every direction wouldn''t help with finding the source.


    That explanation was misleading, though, as it implied there was some significant distortion in the ambient energy of the world. The distortion was like the difference between a fully drawn bow and one released right before that point. There was a difference, but no one would notice unless you were looking for it.


    I only noticed because I was messing around with my new casting technique and perceived a weird fluctuation in the air. It was like a twig tapping on a window in the middle of the night. It was annoying enough to spend some of my time figuring out what was happening, leading me here.


    Pushing the thoughts away, I slowly pulled away small layers of willpower from a new tendril. Okay¡­ Now, I just need t¡ª


    There! I thought, turning to look to the east. It was like the vibration given off by the weak fluttering beat of a heart.


    The moment after I felt the lightest of touches on my tendril, echoes from the ripple impacted the tendril from multiple directions, muddying the waters from where it originated. But it didn''t matter by then.


    "That way," I said, turning to look at the others. Franklin just nodded and started moving while Kanieta squinted her eyes at me, looking rather frustrated.


    "Can you explain what you are sensing again?" She asked, her tone sounding pleasant and sweet to the ear. Every hair on my body stood on end at her voice. It was far too sweet for her to actually mean anything close to it.


    It had to be some kind of trick question, but I learned from my father that trying to be smart when a woman was being pleasantly-not-mad at you only made everything worse. "The ripple running through the ambient energy," I stated succinctly and accurately¡­ for the third time.


    "That''s not what I''m me¡ª" She snapped, then the bridge of her nose wrinkled in annoyance with her scrunched-up face. It was a rather cute face¡ª nope. I thought, pushing the thought away. The only thing I could think of that was worse than intentionally making a woman mad to see the face she made was doing it to a perceptive woman who could exert actual power over you. She clicked her tongue and said, "I don''t see how you are picking up something I''m not."


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    "If you don''t believe I''m picking something up, why are you so willing to follow."


    Kanieta gave me the side eye as we moved, and after a long enough time that I started to think she wouldn''t answer, she said, "I can detect how your psy reacts to the pulse. Besides, we''re wandering around. Until nightfall, this is as good as anything else."


    "But with your lack of perception, you can''t feel the ripple itself." I said, answering her petty provocation with one of my own before getting serious, ¡°¡­That doesn''t seem right."


    She gave a grunt of exasperated agreement, and both of us let the conversation drop. But as I turned away, I noticed a glimmer that sent a shiver down my spine enter her eye, and she started muttering something about spell formations and shadows under her breath.


    Ignoring whatever she was doing, I decided to stay quiet. We were in an area where a Crescent Moon camp was located. Half the struggle of staying hidden would disappear so long as we didn''t purposely draw attention.


    Slowly, I gathered my mental energy and formed a layer over my lower body. While it would offer little protection, it would stop my scent from spreading to plants. And it was good practice for me.


    Once a tendril was reshaped and in place, it was like holding any other tendril outstretched at the ready, as long as you were standing still, at least. Shaping a tendril to cover a body part and moving it around takes a constant level of concentration and control. However, once you get used to it, it becomes second nature.


    I was no longer used to it.


    Not that it became hard or anything. It was the opposite.


    It became too easy for me.


    I would bring my leg down, and suddenly, the shell becomes empowered by the world, and my foot is now buried six inches into the ground. That was just a guess on my part. As I really didn''t feel like checking how deep the hole was with a snickering Kanieta standing above and a mouth full of dust.


    Or I would form the small spikes and ridges on the bottom of my feet so I would have purchased as I moved, and they would throw my foot into the air as I lost control of my casting. It was far less embarrassing than the first situation but still just as irritating because it was happening more.


    Eventually, I mostly got the hang of it again, though I knew something embarrassing would happen when I was startled or reacted on instinct.


    We marched over grass hillsides, across meadows, and through clusters of trees as we moved back and forth through the valley, but no matter where I led, we never seemed to get closer to the source of the ripple.


    A few times, I saw signs of us crossing a fresh trail that looked like it was left by people, but I chose to ignore following it for greater speed, hoping to at least get into eyesight of my quarry. Whether my quarry left the trail or not, following it wouldn''t do much. Even I couldn''t lose my prey, and the trail might not even be it.


    Birds chirped in the trees, and the buzzing of insects chorused around us, so no one was all that concerned about being near a large camp, but we all knew that around the next corner, danger could be lurking. So we all kept our heads on a swivel.


    The sun rose into the sky as we marched and then began to fall, and I began to worry that we would never find what I was looking for. I was only getting a single direction every ping, and it wasn''t telling me how close we were to the source. So, I had no idea if we were any closer.


    I mean, I was reasonably confident that the ripple was slightly stronger now than when I first picked it up, but that could just be my wishful thinking. Not that it mattered, as without knowing exactly what I was detecting and far more practice than I had, how was I supposed to know the meaning of what I felt.


    For all I knew, I was feeling something on the other side of the Broken Peaks, and I was just making an idiot out of myself with all of this.


    Then again, and I might be deceiving myself again, it could be that the source was really, like, less than a mile close. And every time I tried to cut it off, it would dodge out of the way almost immediately. With this wooded valley, we could be two hundred feet away without knowing it.


    Over and over and over and over again.


    Why might I think this?


    Well, I can say with great surety that I am not the most well-traveled in the world. So, I don''t know what the fastest living creature or construct is. But I doubt something that can move hundreds or thousands of miles in the span of forty or so minutes exists.


    It could be a shorter time frame, but that was the interval that I was stopping and reforming my detector. And every time I detected it, it was in a new location.


    Rather than assuming some terrifying thing is on the other side of the Broken Peaks, releasing a pulse only I can feel and is able to move to a forty-five-degree angle from where it was the last time I checked, I would go with the far more likely situation.


    A situation that involved assuming a prick could somehow anticipate or detect our movements, so we could never catch sight of them because of a hill or clump of trees blocking our view¡­ Ah, fuck. I thought, then slumped slightly, disrupting my latest attempt to form my casting. I may have to rethink this.


    Even this wouldn''t be an insurmountable problem, except that I couldn''t use a pulse. It wasn''t even that I was unwilling.


    My irritation at being outmaneuvered had long reached the point that I was fine with passing out because I released a massive pulse to find this bastard.


    However, Kanieta told me she could detect me detecting the signal when she was looking. That was good to know, as it meant that casual use of mental energy would be able to go undetected by most.


    You just don''t want to, say, release a pulse designed to travel as far as possible and send echoes back to its origin.


    I don''t know about the Kin, but if I detected some strange pulse in the middle of nowhere, I would go check it out. Even if I had to take my entire party on a winding trap through one valley and into the next one over the course of most of a day.


    That is a purely hypothetical situation, of course.


    And in that hypothetical situation where the Crescent Moon came searching from the source of the pulse, I doubted I could skirt detection for this long, not with how I currently was. Once I have full control over my abilities, it will be a totally different situ¡ª


    "I can find them," Kanieta said smugly, causing my eyes to pop open. I was trying to hold my tendril long enough to detect the pulse, but I was having trouble focusing for some reason. No idea why.


    "What are we waiting for then?" I asked, disbelief at her claim dripping off every word. Popping to my feet, I moved toward where she leaned against a tree and gave an expectant wave of my hand, motioning her to start leading us.


    Her lips twisted condescendingly as her tails gave a smug flick behind her, causing my heart to sink. I''m not sure how I knew that the flick was smug, but I did. My scow in reply only made her throatily chuckle before winking at me and turning to glide between two trees.


    "You know, Green," Franklin hissed in a whisper, a chuckle bubbling between his words, "there''s a saying among the Kin. ''The best way to attract a fox''s attention is to fail gloriously.'' It''s just never the type of attention anyone wants."


    Hurring started huffing in a way that sounded almost like a laugh. Oh, now you''re not impassive. I snapped my mouth shut on the words to my defense as I refused to look back and acknowledge them. By this point, everyone was amused by my constant direction changes and growing frustration. Even Franklin''s twitching was settling down as he sat back and watched me.


    Kanieta led us through the woods, and a little way up the side of a hill away from where I last detected the ripple before cutting across its side. I had no idea where she was leading us, as I saw no trail she followed.


    It was to the point that I was starting to doubt my own scouting skills because Kanieta was moving with such surety and confidence she had to know where she was going.


    Then she stopped, her tails curved to the left like the curling of a wave as she stood in place like a statue mid-step.


    I stopped when I got next to her, my eyes roving the ground and then the area around us. Seeing nothing, I turned to mock her to her face, then felt the life go out of me.


    Right where her tails were pointed, through a perfect gap in the trees, was a line of figures that were moving up the valley''s hillside. As I watched, I saw them suddenly turn and head back into the forest. We just happened to be on a high enough rise to see them through a gap in the trees.


    "How in the living fuck did you do that?" I asked, only getting a pealing laugh of superiority response.

 B2 Chapter 45

    "Any day now, Green," Kanieta chimed as she skipped around me to stand with the rest of the group, making them seem like some kind of united front. "meandering through the forest is getting boring. That''s our quarry right there, right? Go ahead and lead us to them."


    I kept my mouth shut and eyed where the group of humans was disappearing, quickly constructing a detector while ignoring the vixen. Saying anything would only encourage Kanieta. Saying nothing would also encourage her, as she could tell how much her words irritated me, but her comments came less often, and it was more time spent glaring and stalking around me before appearing in strange places to startle me than comments.


    Bottom line, I either chose to enter into a verbal spar I could not see the end of or tried to ignore her impressive acrobatic acts while she sporadically mocked me.


    At least this way, I got to focus more and occasionally see something impressive, not that I would tell her. And I got to walk around and look at the nature around me. You always had to focus on the silver lining in a shitty situation.


    I was long past beginning to question the worth of how I spent my life with the way this day was going. And I had the feeling that it was just going to get worse when¡­ ahh, fuck. I mentally grumbled as I felt a ping on my tendril. I couldn''t even enjoy a sense of accomplishment at the speed at which I constructed my detector tendril, as it only confirmed that the one I wanted was in the group Kanieta found.


    I knew the one I was chasing was near. I now knew how many there were, and I could find their trail, but I was trying to cut them off so as not to spend days we didn''t have running them down with an exhausting endurance chase.


    That wasn''t an option. And neither was giving up. Because, at this point, giving up now would be more embarrassing than continuing what had been a pointless chaise up until now.


    Every decision I made ended up being wrong. If I tried to get in front of them by taking what looked like a shortcut or pushing us to a speed to overtake them, I found more often than not that I was farther away than before.


    Tracking their trail wouldn''t help in the short term either, as they spent more time walking along the bare ground and rock than fields of grass and over leaves, making me wonder if they had in-depth knowledge of every inch of this valley.


    Whenever that thought popped into my mind, I immediately called kawrashit on it and pushed it away.


    Because there were no signs of anyone living in this valley. Sure, I would bet my life on hunters coming through this area occasionally, but other than them, humans walking between these hills must be few and far between. And these people were not hunters.


    Sure, people who like pointing out other''s faults and mistakes would say that I was not looking like the most credible source at the moment. And then those three stupid-tailed individuals would go on to point out every time I had to change directions, but that had nothing to do with their abilities as hunters.


    No one in the group we were pursuing was a hunter or scout. One look at what I now knew was their trail told me that. And if any one of them had been into the heart of the forest more than once, I would be surprised.


    This had to be the first time they were inside this valley. So how the hell were they dodging me so well?


    There could only be one explanation, and as I watched my prey suddenly change directions before me, it was confirmed.


    I knew the ripple wasn''t a pulse or any other use of mental energy because I would have felt it. And it wasn''t that the ripple was somehow the ambient energy controlled by will, as I was reasonably confident I would have detected that too. Everything was leaving me at a loss for what to call it, as it didn''t fit into any one category.


    It was the energy of the world with no mental energy or willpower I could detect. Over the course of the day, I eventually broke down and asked Kanieta if she knew how they were manipulating the world''s energy, and her response was surprising. Because she actually responded.


    She stopped mocking me for a moment, a look of contemplation coming over her face. "It shouldn''t be possible. The only way I know of your people''s affecting ambient energy is to create a dome of your mental energy and push it away, but it isn''t a direct effect. And it only spreads a small distance." Then she said something snide about how I must be missing what was really happening, completely ignoring how she couldn''t feel anything at all. Not that it stopped her from getting the last laugh in the end, as she did find them¡­


    The thing was, despite everything I was detecting, it still felt like a pulse to me. And the group''s reactions pointed to that, too.


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    But that was impossible. We weren''t chasing a knight or a city lord. Having that amount of mental energy and willpower to keep up a series of casting for hours was just impossible for average citizens, not even considering all of the other factors.


    Another point was that it seemed to be coming at the same interval, a consistency you only saw in machinery. Though again, I couldn''t be entirely sure, as according to Kanieta, I was ''having trouble keeping my little antenna erect.''


    ¡­Should have never described what I was doing to her. Couldn''t even say anything to contradict her, as she was technically correct. The worst type of correct when on the opposing side.


    Still, I was fairly sure I could detect one about every minute. I did not know the exact time, but it made sense that I detected it at all if it was happening fairly often.


    The question still remained of why and how it was happening at all. I had a theory, but it didn''t make me feel any better. It actually made this all worse in¡­ a lot of ways. Though better in some.


    I had to accept that however it worked or how it was being done, the result was a pulse. There was no other explanation. With that line of thought, the person was detecting me¡­ No, detected us every minute. And that would mean¡­ Crows take you.


    Standing up from where I had crouched, blankly staring at the hillside the procession was on, I turned to those gathered behind me.


    You know the people who ¡ª regardless of their intelligence and demeanors ¡ª were still beastkin. It didn''t matter what they called themselves. With any means of detection, be it with mental energy or even sight, you didn''t get a person''s entire backstory.


    And when you find yourself traveling through hostile territory, trusting in stereotypes and first impressions generally keeps you alive. They existed for a reason, after all.


    How would they know that these beastkins didn''t mean them harm?


    Eyes settling on Franklin and Hurring, my eyes narrowed in thought.


    "Are you finally going to give up on your pointless fascination with this group? I guess that we do have better things to do." Rang out Kanieta''s voice from where she stood off to the side, lounging in a tree like the first time I met her.


    "No," I said, turning to look at her, giving her an overly pleasant smile that made her fox ear twitch and eyes narrow in suspicion. "I need my handicaps to leave."


    "What?" Kanieta said, sounding affronted.


    "Whatever I''m feeling is detecting us," I stated with a wave in the general direction of where I last felt the ripple, though it had probably already moved. "And they aren''t running from me."


    Her eyes narrowed, and her ears laid back like she was angry at me for a few seconds. Then she threw her head back and gave a cackling belly laugh.


    Looking at her blankly for a moment, I felt my heart pound and my face flush with embarrassment and irritation. "When did you know?" I ground out through my clenched teeth.


    "Know?" Kanieta asked, "I still don''t know. But I suspected a couple hours ago."


    I had nothing to say. Really, if I wasn''t so distracted trying to time the source of the ripple and then become so invested and focused trying to catch up to it. As if it had personally wronged me, I would have seen the signs. They were right there in front of me.


    If it wasn''t me, I might even say it was funny. "Stay here," I said, my voice somewhat tight with embarrassment as I turned and started moving through the brush, hardly a sound to mark my passage. Though the ringing bell of Kanieta''s laugh and the rumbling chortles could be heard wide and far.


    Pushing the sounds of laughter from my mind, I focused on my mission. Self-imposed that it might be, I was not going to fail. I would rather die than fail at this point!


    I stumbled as I took a step, coming to a stop as I fought with an overwhelming urge to run forward without the slightest care of what or who I might run into. The internal struggle lasted for seconds, and my body started to shake as adrenalin spread through my body with my pounding heart.


    With a gasp, I slumped forward, falling to my knees and hands. My fingers dug into the soil, causing tiny pricks of pain as the small thorns on the dried leaves dug into my palms and fingers.


    My chest heaved as my mind processed the spike of my emotions before flat-lining. In some ways, the drastic shift in emotions was worse than suddenly having my mind filled with rage or fear. Because the fall was farther, and I just felt hollowed out afterward.


    I heaved a deep breath, getting my breathing back under control, then staggered to my feet. Looking at the trial, I was plain as day that it was heading south, across the valley again, but that meant little.


    The group I was pursuing has crisscrossed the valley over the last few hours. But my instincts were telling me that they were going to head back north.


    There was a small ripple in the contour of the northern hill, and it could easily contain a gorge running up the length of its slope. It was a complete guess, but the worst thing that would happen was losing a bit of time.


    It was kind of hard to lose a person who was constantly sending a beacon out into the world. Which only makes not being able to catch them all the worse¡­


    Shaking my head, I focused on gliding through the forest, having less effect than a gentle breeze on this surroundings. I enjoyed the sounds of nature as I traveled, as it had been a long time since I had been in a forest without the pressure of a mission hanging over my head.


    Sure, there was still the danger of the Crescent Moon, but for whatever reason, it just felt distant to me.


    In less than half an hour, I traveled the four miles to the dip in the hillside.


    Breaking out of the forest edge, I saw that I was right. Up close, it became clear that what looked like a slight dip in the landscape initially became a sharp ten-foot drop that ran up three-fourths of the hillside. Even then, it would be easy to miss figures moving up that section unless they happened to be right in front of the gully.


    From my angle, I could not see all of the rocky depths, meaning it would be easy for people to hide, but I didn''t even need to look to know if my guess about their path was right. I could hear a clattering of stones and curses coming from the gully.


    "Leeroy," Echoed a tired voice from its confines, "Why are you slowing?"

 B2 Chapter 46

    "Leeroy, why are you slowing?" Optio Lun asked, his voice strained with tension and weariness. Leeroy''s eyes flicked to him, seeing that Optio''s gaze alternated between him and farther up the gorge with a longing expression.


    But Leeroy couldn''t bring himself to lead the group another step up the rocky crevis, which left him in a predicament. Going back was out of the question, but going forward might be worse.


    Indecision had lodged itself in his gut, and he didn''t know what to do. For a while now, he felt that something had changed, but he wasn''t sure if it was for good or bad.


    Leeroy trusted his gut. And so did those traveling with him because Optio Lun was asking him his opinion on where to go more often than naught.


    It was really weird, actually, now that he thought about it. But like in the past, he pushed it out of his head. Why would he worry what direction they were going, so long as it was the one he felt was right. Which made their current situation all the more complicated because there was no longer any certainty within him. It was a feeling that Leeroy didn''t like at all.


    "Stay here," Leeroy whispered before moving to and climbing up the wall of the ravine as stealthily as he could. Sure, there were a few clicks as the stone shifted under his weight, and a few pebbles fell from their previous stationary locations, but it was¡ª


    "Are you trying to be stealthy?" Asked a voice that sounded like it was in physical pain. Tilting his head to slowly look up, Leeroy''s heart skipped a beat as he saw an elf ¡ª and thank the elementals, it was a normal one ¡ª crouched on his heel above him, looking down. He had no idea when the elf appeared at the edge between now and two seconds ago when he last looked. Leeroy didn''t even hear the crunching of stones as he walked up, and no one else called out a warning. Only freezing in place once the elf started speaking.


    "Or are you just trying to climb up here without falling to your death?" The eld asked, his head slightly cocking to the side.


    His eyes were dark green and seemed to swirl in the shifting darkness his golden hair cast as it fell over his face. Leeroy might think he was a human with half his face in shadows, but his long, pointed ears poking through his hair like a pillar of stone in the center of a wheat field stopped any thought of that.


    "I''m not sure if that is more demeaning for me or less," muttered the elf just loud enough for Leeroy to hear as emotions flashed through his eyes too fast for him to catch. "So, who are you, and where are you going." As the elf spoke, he looked past Leeroy and to the Opito and the others.


    Leeroy''s first reaction was to throw out his chest and thump the numbers marking his legion over his left breast, but it occurred to him that he had discarded his armor.


    Well, the thought occurred to him when he was already halfway through the movements and couldn''t stop. It was already too late by that point.


    The movements caused his left hand clutching the edge of a rock to slip. He tried to squeeze the rough edge tighter, but the smooth stone slipped from his hand.


    Leeroy''s eyes widened in horror as his head snapped down, focusing on his now free hand. He flung his right hand back out to grab into any stone, but all he found in his panic were smooth surfaces and cracks too small to get a purchase on. His fingernails scraped over the rocks, dislodging the small stones and lodging them under his fingernails while the cracks his hands passed over caused a shaft of pain as his nails were torn.


    "Ahh!" He started to scream. It wasn''t from the pain from his hands but from the fear of his impending fall and death before his throat was clamped shut as his body was jerked forward onto the rock face again.


    Head tilting up, he saw the elf had lunged down, grabbing hold of his left wrist.


    Leeroy was a big man. That wasn''t to say he was fat, though if he was honest, he had more of a gut than he wanted. Leeroy was just a tall, broad-shouldered man.


    He might be only a few inches taller than the elf, but he was more than twice as wide. And being in the legion meant that most of that was muscle.


    The elf pulled him back into position and even seemed to lift him slightly without looking strained at all. His eyes looked to be filled with more amusement than any kind of shock or fear that Leeroy might fall to his death.


    As the elf practically pulled Leeroy''s entire weight the last couple of feet up to the edge of the gorge, he saw what should have been one of the first things he noticed. The elf was wearing the pin of a legion scout holding his cloak together, and his light armor under the cloke had the old numerals for fifteen.


    "You''re a scout!" Leeroy accused as his eyes snapped up to the elf''s face.


    Slowly, the elf turned to look down at the typical scout legion gear covering his body before slowly looking back up and saying dryly, "Is that why they gave me these clothes? I was wondering why they gave an elf them; couldn''t quite figure it out."


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    Leeroy felt his face flush in embarrassment, "No!" he blurted, trying to get his words out all at once, "I didn''t mean that I''m surprised that an elf is a scout or anything¡­ I just¡­ didn''t think a scout from the fifteen would be up¡­ here." At the end, Leeroy trailed off, as he could tell while he was saying it that it was a stupid comment. With all of the weird shit going on, it wasn''t a surprise that a scout for the 15th Legion was up here.


    The only mildly surprising part was that the scout was alive and ran into their squad, but nothing about him being sent up here was surprising.


    The elf only raised a delicate eyebrow as he silently watched Leeroy get to his feet and dust himself off. When he was finished, the elf asked, "Are you refugees fleeing to the forts?" His eyes shifted down as the rest of his ragtag squad shuffled to get a view of the elf, who sounded less sure now. "Or are you on some kind of scouting or foraging mission?"


    "Neither," Leeroy said as he slammed his fist to the chest in a salute. "We are¡­" he deflated as the reality came crashing down onto him again, "what''s left of the Third Century of the Fourth Cohort in the 14th Legion. We were on a mission to escort a supply caravan from Basetown, and¡­ well, things went to shit."


    "I''ll say," The elf said, grim humor filling his voice as he took another look at the group, a bit of respect in his eyes now. "but it can''t be much worse than what led me to be up here either."


    "I think you should be talking to my Optio," Leeroy said, motioning to the group below.


    The elf gave a nod of agreement, and the two carefully moved back down into the rocky gorge to talk somewhere that they were relatively safe. But this time, the scout led the way on a path that was much easier than the one Leeroy took. That was only ten feet away.


    "I''m Scout Green," the elf said, greeting the group with a nod, "I''m stationed with the 15th at the Triad."


    "Long way from home," Jankens commented.


    "Ehh," The elf shrugged and grunted in agreement, then said with a teasing smile, "but maybe not so far in comparison to you a lot. How did you even end up here, looking half-starved and with no gear?"


    Optio Lun stepped forward, and Scout Green snapped off a salute when he saw the green strip bordered with a line of red denoting his rank running down the outside of his pants leg. "Boy, am I glad to see another Legionary," Lun said, "Are you part of a force trying to push into the Cradle?"


    Scout Green looked slightly conflicted as he spoke, "Yes and no." then he sighed, saying, "You are aware of the new intelligent, non-rabid beastkin, correct."


    Leeroy and the others hadn''t spoken to the new beastkin, but they had seen more than enough to make the guess no one was willing to voice yet lest they be shouted down. One glance around the group, and they all nodded to each other in agreement, "Well, what you probably don''t know is these intelligent beastkins ¡ª though they call themselves Kin ¡ª Attacked the Triad over a month ago." He went on to summarize the battle, and then afterward, when the Kin told them the real enemy was the Letairry and how the dark elves would not cease until everyone was under their rule.


    When he got to that point, Leeroy heard Jankens gasp in shock as everyone else in their squad shared looks with each other. The scout stopped and raised an eyebrow at them, but Lun motioned for him to continue his story.


    The elf paused for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders as if mentally saying, ''fuck it'' as he continued with his clandestine mission to report to the Kin.


    That got a few more murmurs of shock from Jankens and the others as they heard about how they built a city less than a score of miles from the Triad without anyone knowing. Then, when he got to the part about the civil war within the Kin''s ranks and attempted coup, Leeroy could feel himself leaning forward slightly as if it would make a difference in hearing the next words out of the elf''s mouth faster.


    This was a story that you only heard about when talking of legends and myths. Something that only fools wished to live through. After all, the best life you could hope for was one in which you were never surprised as far as Leeroy was concerned. Not that he was giving a good example of such a life based on recent events.


    When Green wrapped it up with how he was out here with a scouting force of the Kin''s to interfere and pressure the Crescent Moon''s forces while searching for survivors, everyone leaned back, taking in his words for a moment.


    ¡°That¡¯s¡­ quite the tale." Optio Lun finally said. "And you were right. I''m pretty sure our story doesn''t beat it." Then Lun told the elf about their escort mission, which turned into one flight after another, taking them over hundreds of miles.


    When he got to the part with the Nose and the massive battle that took place there, Green perked up his back straitening, and his eyes flicked off towards the valley they were exiting.


    Holding up a hand, Green said, "If you can stop there, I should go get my companions, Optio¡­¡±


    "Oh," Lun said, his neck becoming slightly flushed with embarrassment, "In all this wilderness, I seem to have forgotten my manners; I am Optio Lun." Green was looking over at Leeroy, but at Lun''s introduction, he did a double talk back at the man, before nodding in understanding. "And by companions, you mean the Bea¡ªKin, who you are scouting with?" Lun asked.


    "Yeah, they should hear this. It will change how we will react."


    "Are you sure that we can trust them?"


    Green paused a moment in thought, then slowly spoke, "From what you have seen, there is no doubt the Letairry are real." At that, he got a round of nods and grunts of confirmation, as no one in Lun''s squad could deny it. "And they are actively harming the 14th, from what you have said. And it looks like they have taken Basetown, doing Ancestor knows what to the inhabitance. So far, the Kin has never lied to us and tried to minimize casualties." He got a few grunts of disagreement and raised eyebrows as people looked around them, signifying everything they had seen over the last weeks, so he added, "At least the faction that is trying to work with us is attempting to lessen their destruction."


    Lun nodded in reluctant agreement to that, then he sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly, saying, "This is outside of my pay grade." Then, he visibly gathered himself, saying, "Are you sure they aren''t playing some elaborate trick on you?"


    "It''s possible but unlikely. The people I saw killed had the bearing of leaders. And they had no idea when or if I would arrive. Not to mention, I am just not important enough to go to this length." Green said. "My reports don''t have that much weight."


    ¡°Yeah¡­ It not being true just doesn''t make sense¡­" Lun trailed off in thought, then shook his head as he decided what to do. "go get these friendly¡­ Kin. If the situation is what you say, then them knowing of the¡­ Latairy?"


    Green shook his head as Lun pronounced it wrong, so he offered the correction. "Letairry."


    "These, Letairry ¡ª if it really is the same group the Kin warned of ¡ª are a threat to the Republic."


    "Good," Green said, getting up to move, "Stay here, I''ll be back in half an hour.¡±

 B2 Chapter 47

    I leaned against a large rock in the gorge, watching the two groups interact. It was quite the spectacle. But not because the situation was anything special.


    Sure, the roughly squad of legionaries were cautious with the Kin, but they weren''t overly aggressive. It was actually surprising the legionarys weren''t more antagonistic to Kanieta and the others.


    They were stationed at one of the bloodiest sections on the Northern Line, with what was said even nowadays to be near constant attacks. Serving in the legion around Basetown for over a month meant you had been in a conflict with at least one warband.


    A prejudice would not be wholly out of the question. And that was ignoring the loss of half their century to a beastwave before all of this craziness began¡­ No, I guess it wasn''t before all this started, was it? If anything, it would be right at the beginning, if the dark elves really are controlling the beastkins.


    Then again, there was a stark difference between the Beastkins and the Kins. Beastkin were more animal than elvan, while the Kin were more elvan than animal.


    It might not sound like much, but seeing a Kin next to a Beastkin would throw off a legionary for a moment. Not enough to stop them from dropping a hand to their sword and drawing the first few inches, but if they had someone vouching that these beastkin were different, they would take a moment to stop and think.


    So, while I didn''t expect things to go this smoothly, I''m not that surprised either.


    What was surprising was the mask Kanieta was wearing. Just watching her talk to these men was making a series of shivers run down my spine. It wasn''t natural.


    She was fluttering her eyelashes at them. Her voice became so sweet and soothing that honey should be dripping out of her mouth with every word. And it seemed like every other time Kanieta opened her mouth, she was releasing a ringing bell-like laugh that tugged at my heart by the pure joy filling it.


    It reminded me of my mother coming up behind me as a child and wrapping a blanket around me while we sat around a fire on a cold night.


    If I didn''t see the necessity for her to make a good impression, I would be calling her out. Instead, I would just have to live with my body being covered with gooseflesh until she stopped the act.


    However, it was almost too much for my willpower when she feigned a bashful personality by blushing slightly when they complimented her. I couldn''t spot from opening my mouth a few times to call out the kawrashit that was happening before me. But every time, I clicked it shut after a second when I reminded myself that I wanted these two groups to get along. And she was taking giant leaps in that direction. I was half convinced that most of these men already had a crush on Kanieta.


    Not that she was helping me control those impulses. Kanieta knew precisely what she was doing and what was going through my mind. I knew that because she would occasionally turn half her face to me and then wink at me with a smirk.


    It was impressive that she could twist a portion of her face without altering her other side.


    When the conversation was finally turned toward their flight from the Twins and the battle between the Crescent Moon and Letairry, Kanieta''s real personality shone through momentarily.


    A vicious smile distorted Kanieta''s face like she just caught the smell of blood from her prey. Leeroy and the others lead back when her canines appeared, some of them even taking a step back and their hands falling onto the hilts of their weapons.


    "Sorry," Kanieta said, her face becoming an apologetic mask. "Derg ¡ª the one leading the Crescent Moon Faction ¡ª he hurt and killed many of my friends. Hearing of him stepping into a hornet''s nest and helping me¡­ it couldn''t happen to anybody better."


    ¡°¡­It''s fine, Chieftain Kanieta," Opito Lun said, waving off her apology with a dismissive wave of his hand. However, I could not help but detect a hint of cautiousness in his voice as his eyes flicked to Leeroy and then to me, searching for our reactions.


    More so Leeroy than me, as I was more of an afterthought. And it wasn''t just Opito Lun. Everyone threw a glance at Leeroy at some point during the exchange. Some looked conscious of the actions, but most just shited to have him in the corner of their eye. Optio Lun is quite perceptive. And they all seem to want to know Leeroy''s reaction¡­


    As for Leeroy himself, he was staring off to the northeast while throwing the occasional look past us to the south. It was like what we were talking about didn''t matter.


    And to him, as a legion grunt, it really didn''t. But his dismissive attitude to everything seemed to reassure the rest of his group. And they all threw searching glances off in the directions he was looking.


    "While Scout Green told me that he was up here searching for refuges of the Cradle, I have to think that there is more to the story with all of you traveling with him." Opito Lun said cautiously.


    "Indeed," Kanieta responded, "in fact, searching for refugees is more of a side track our mission has taken on. We were mainly following the destruction and blood golems Crescent Moon left in their wake, attempting to figure out their plans. We were going to start searching for the main camp they must have in his region, but Green over there felt a¡ª what was it again? Ahh, a psy casting origination from your group, and he wanted to discover what it was."


    As Kanieta''s face turned to me, it shifted from one of attentive speculation to a mocking smile. Her eyes sparkled with the knowledge that I had a spike of irritation when she used the word psy. I knew she did it just to get under my skin, but every time I heard it from her, I couldn''t help a spike of irritation. Though, from most people, it was nothing but a breath of air brushing past me.


    "What is a blood golem?" Opito Lun asked uncertainly before it filled with confusion. "And you felt a casting from us?"


    "Ahh, I believe you have seen them from afar in the battle. The hidden faction the Crescent Moon allied themselves with can create spel¡­Hmm. Think of an elemental, just with blood and flesh, not fire or stone. They are semi-autonomous abominations that grow stronger as they kill."


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    As she talked, those listening had the blood drained from their faces, and looks of horror came over them as they shuffled in place. "And you followed them up here."


    "Yes," Franklin said, cutting in, his voice solemn, "We tried to exterminate the corrupted casters in the past, as they nearly destroyed us, but they are apparently more tenacious than we thought. It is to our shame that we let our blight loose on your people."


    An uneasy silence settled over us, and I studied my fingernails as I trimmed them with a knife, pointedly ignoring everyone. I didn''t mention the golems when I first told them our story, speaking in broad terms. I didn''t want to relive those moments more than I did in my sleep, and they didn''t need to know all the details. However, I was just glad that this didn''t outright end our discussion.


    Not that they appeared all that surprised by Kanieta''s description. They must have seen some things of their own.


    Finally, Lun cleared his throat and hesitantly asked again, "You felt a casting from us."


    ¡°¡­Yes and no," I answered slowly, gathering my thoughts on the subject. "It wasn''t really a casting. I''m pretty sure he''s some kind of idiot savant with pulses." As I spoke, I gestured to Leeroy, who was looking off to the side again.


    "But I haven''t felt him perform a casting in days." Opito Lun said, though there was no conviction behind the words. It was more like he felt obliged to say something because he hadn''t fully convinced himself Leeroy was doing anything special, but he knew something weird was happening.


    I opened my mouth to give an answer to their question but decided to change what I was going to say. My instinct was to go into detail about everything that was going on with me and what I was discovering I could do, but that would open up a whole lot of problems for me. If what I said traveled to the wrong ears, I would end up disappearing. There was a reason the same noble houses have been in power for hundreds of years. I decided to be more vague with my answer.


    "I was able to use a special technique I''m developing and felt a ripple from him," I said, gesturing to Leeroy. "I don''t know how he does it, but it travels for at least ten miles and is extremely hard to detect. He probably doesn''t know how he is doing it, but you should have noticed him reacting to situations before he had any right to do so."


    The squad turned to look at each other, their eyes flicking around, with no one saying anything. They were all looking to the others to say something. To poke some hole in the claim so they could all laugh it off at my expense.


    And yet, the longer they looked at each other, the more their faces settled into grim masks. They thought back on their journey, and one strange occasional after another must have popped into their minds.


    I already had first-hand experience of what Leeroy could do, and given where we are, they must have had many close encounters. And now they were facing them instead of brushing them off and accepting them because they were still alive. Really, why would a legionary question the reasons for living another day?


    ¡°Can¡­" Lun spoke with a dry throat, then halted and swallowed before speaking again, "Can others detect it."


    I had to respect him for being able to immediately jump to the heart of the issue. "No," I said, shaking my head, "You have seen the Kin''s abilities," they all nodded, some of them even shivering at the memory, "Kanieta here is one of their best, and she couldn''t even feel a thing, and few if any Olimpians have the skill to perform the casting."


    In the middle of my words, I had already turned to look at Kanieta, and I saw her scowl at me when I mentioned her lack of skill. But the scowl turned into a disgruntled frown and flush of her cheeks as the rest turned to face her. I had to admit she made quite the figure, "I must admit that my knowledge of the intricacies of psy castings are lacking."


    Giving her a not-so-amused smile, I turned to look at Leeroy. "We need to find the Crescent Moon''s camp and maybe a convenient way to talk to the forts. Do you have any suggestions?"


    Leeroy''s brow wrinkled in thought and concentration.


    I tried to form an antenna to detect if he released a ripple, but my rushing made the casting collapse before it fully formed. All I had left to go on was the same information as everyone else''s, which was Leeroy''s head turning toward the line of smoke in the sky, then to the south.


    He paused for a second, then shook his head and shrugged. "I don''t know if you''re right or not¡­ but I want to go that way." He said, then gave a half-heartedly pointing to the northeast.


    If you went north in any direction, you would hit the forts, so maybe it was the safety? However, I doubted an army would camp much closer to the forts than we currently were. It can''t be for that, right?


    "Well, this ended far better than I thought Green''s little excursion would be. But," Kanieta said, breaking the silence. Her voice wasn''t as sickly sweet as before, but it still wasn''t quite back to normal. "And no offense, gentlemen, but we have to find an army before mine arrives, and you aren''t really going help with that. And I have some messages to send."


    No one seemed to take her words to heart, and it looked like, with the mystery of the ripple settled, we were about to go our separate ways.


    But I hardly noticed that as my eyes were locked on Kanieta. She appeared and sounded basically the same, but there was something different about her now. A coldness around her, like she had to do¡­ Oh, fuck me. Thought as it came to me.


    I had missed it, but Kaneita hadn''t. She was raised to be a leader, and from everything I had seen, she was a good one. She put her people first.


    "What are the odds of you finding the Crescent Moon camp in time?" I asked her in a neutral tone.


    ¡°¡­Not great," Kanieta responded after a moment and a sigh, her eyes narrowing at me in suspicion. "They would have a concealment formation set up. It won''t be so great that I would have to be right on top of it to detect it, but I would still have to get close. And there is a lot of area to cover."


    Opito Lun''s report changed everything. The dark elves were already attacking the Republic, and we didn''t even know. If they were confident enough to cut off an entire legion and occupy a city, they would act soon. Meandering around up in the north without my legion should have been a waste of my time.


    But now it looked like I was exactly where I needed to be.


    Kanieta wasn''t going to warn the 15th of the incoming Letairry attack. The Kin had taken a massive hit with the desertion of one of their factions, and now they were stretched thin. To thin. They needed a win, no doubt, for internal political reasons but also to consolidate their position.


    With it looking unlikely that they would find a win up here in the north, they could get it when an army came out of nowhere and smashed into the Triad. With the Kin able to prepare for the Letairry, there was no way for the dark elves to land the devastating blow they were searching for and smash the 15th and Senatorial Guard.


    But they would still land a blow. One that would weaken the Republic and, as a result, strengthen the Kin''s position, even if they were in the middle of a civil war. Cold as it was,


    I could appreciate the pure calculation and commitment to one''s people to make such a decision. It could not have been easy, as Kanieta didn''t strike me as someone who reveled in death. But she was also someone who would still deal it out should it be necessary.


    And now I had to make a choice... Who was I kidding? I had already made a decision because it really wasn''t a choice. If there was a legion I belonged in, it was the 15th, as it was a gathering of outcasts. At the vary least, It had been my home for years. And I would not be the cause of their deaths while all I had to do was my job.


    Taking a breath to brace myself, I asked, ¡±If I can find the camp, will you send a message to your people about the Letairry actions and have them give it to the 15th?"


    She looked at me, her eyes squinted in suspicion, "If you can do this, why didn''t you mention it before?"


    "Because I don''t know what will happen to me if I do it."


    "Meaning?"


    "That there is a certain amount of danger involved for me, and it wasn''t worth the risk before," I said.


    "If you can do it," Kanieta said slowly in thought, "I will send the message."


    With a nod, I accepted the deal at her word, then sat down where I was, my legs crossed, and began to focus my mind.


    "What are you going to do?" Kanieta asked, curiosity filling her voice.


    "I''m going to release an Earth Pulse," I answered.

 B2 Chapter 48

    The others tried to get my attention, but I ignored them. Kanieta and Franklin might want to know what I was doing, but someone within the legion squad should be able to give a rough explanation of it. Even if they didn''t, I doubted anyone would physically stop me. They should have enough trust in my abilities to at least give me some time.


    But more to the point, I needed to get this over with before I convinced myself not to do it.


    I knew I could release an Earth Pulse. I had done it before, and the mental energy was a non-issue now. But all of my castings were no longer reliable in consistency. Most of them extended far beyond what my intentions were.


    Whenever I cast an Earth Pulse in the past, I had to dance along the border of consciousness and unconsciousness. Occasionally, I went over that line as I failed to contain the flood of information penetrating my mind. If the flood of information was the same, and the casting went beyond my expectations, there was a distinct possibility of my mind breaking under the strain.


    But I had no option other than to perform the casting. Like many people who had no doubt lived in the past and far more who will live in the future, out of all the choices I could possibly make, there was only one I could live with.


    I was still trying to figure out my emotions about the Legion and Olimpia, but I had family and friends. People who will be put in danger if the Letairry are left to run rampant.


    Even the scout trainees popped into my mind. Kathren, Sathera, Joxin, and the others were still my students, if only for a few days, and I had a certain obligation to them. Not to mention how Sathera and all those on the raft saved my life.


    I might not want to be a tool for others to use as they please, but I would not stand by and watch others die when I could save their lives by doing my job. I was raised better than that.


    So, I would find the encampment and suffer the consequences.


    It didn''t take that long to gather my mental energy. Only a matter of seconds.


    My energy floated before my chest, waiting for my command. I was hardly putting any will into controlling it, and the ambient energy was impacting and dimpling its surface.


    I couldn''t see it with my eyes, but I could feel the sphere sloshing like a pool of spherical water. With that sense, I could sit bat and watch the battle of rippling waves constantly colliding and rebounding across its surface in a bid for dominance.


    It was captivating.


    I was already changing. Before, I would have formed my tendril down my spine to my backside and directly into the ground so as to have the smallest possible sections exposed to the air. I had so little that any waist was unacceptable.


    And now, I didn''t care. More than that, I didn''t need to care.


    Exposing my mental energy to the air resulted in a loss so slight that I had to focus on the casting to notice it at all. Not that any loss ultimately mattered, as my regeneration was several times greater than it.


    What would I become after years of such a mindset? It was¡­ A distraction so I could push off performing the casting a moment longer.


    Filling my lungs with one long breath, I released it, quickly forming the mental energy into a spike before stabbing it into the ground.


    Stopping a few feet down, I collected the energy again. I extended my mind down the tendril and felt the world''s energy suffusing the earth.


    It was so easy. With a slight twitch of my energy, I shifted its frequency to nearly match the earth''s. It was a slow, implacable beat. Never still, but move so slow that it would take tens of thousands of lifetimes to see it move an inch. But at the same time, there was a barely restrained pressure that could explode into catastrophic destruction at any instant.


    It was a feat that would take me tens of minutes at best before. Now, I could hardly see why it was so hard. It was like the shutters covering my eyes were suddenly removed, and I could finally see.


    Knowing the pulse was ready, I released my mental energy and immediately knew I fucked up.


    To ensure that I covered over a hundred miles around us and find the camp, I used half of the mental energy I used in the past. I knew the casting would go farther and faster than before, but I made a mistake.


    More accurately, I forgot. Even in the past, the energy filling the earth was never hostile like that of the air. It just didn''t really help.


    For a fraction of a moment, as my Earth Pulse rippled out, I thought that case would remain the same.


    I was wrong. Oh, so wrong.


    It was like when you dropped a large stone into a pond. The water reacted by filling the gap with such force that some water was thrown into the air before rippling out.


    The analogy was close, but it wasn''t exactly how it worked.


    As my Earth Pulse exploded outward, the energy filling the ground got out of the way. Instead of eventually building up pressure and pressing back on my pulse to slow it down to a stop, I felt a swelling of power below me. The ambient energy was circling around in a massive cycle to fill the gap left by my pulse, then pressing into the back of it, forcing it to move faster.


    A pulse was fast. Several times faster than the speed of sound, in fact. But the time between when the outer edge of a pulse washed over something and when the information enters your mind was proven to be nearly instantaneous. However, the time the caster''s mind takes to assimilate the knowledge can be far longer than that.


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    When releasing an Earth Pulse, in my experience, the pulse moved slower than sound by quite a margin.


    The first second of my Earth Pulse, that pattern remained the same. Then, the pressure from the back started pushing it forward faster.


    For whatever reason, instead of the increased speed causing the pulse to jump forward and impacting the retreating energy and slowing it down from resistance ¡ª which was what should have happened if the world wanted to make sense again ¡ª the potentially blocking energy moved out of the way faster. Not just moved out of the way, it moved in such a way that more of the energy in the ground started pushing up from the potential energy geyser building under my ass, creating a greater force propelling my pulse.


    The only bright side was that the information flowed through my mind effortlessly. There was hardly any resistance or struggle from it like there used to be. In the past, it would be like trying to force a wild bucking horse to be still with my bare hands.


    Not that I had ever ridden a horse, let alone broken one, so it may not be exactly accurate. But as a teenager, I was able to snatch up the meanest cat in the village and keep hold of it long enough to jump into a pond while it scratched me¡­ You know, in hindsight, I think I came out on the losing end of that one.


    Anyway, processing the information was like that. A struggle that you were one second away from losing control of it and paying the consequences.


    All information from pulses forced itself into your head. But the information of an Earth Pulse seemed to carry more weight to me. Like there was a will behind it, and its struggle was a test to see if I was worthy of knowing its secrets


    Right now, however, the information was lining up and quickly passing through my mind like an organized legion. Except, the amount of knowledge waiting for assimilation never stopped building up and was only increasing.


    Within the first few seconds, it was like I had seen every tree, rock, blade of grass, stream, animal, and everything in between for half a day''s journey in every direction.


    I knew of some small warbands moving around and finding camps of humans hiding in forests. I could turn and point to a half dozen burned-out husks of fortresses and small castles scattered around us.


    In the next few moments, the northern side of my pulse was passing over the outer edge of the line of forts and all of their inhabitants. And then I found them, a camp containing over ten thousand of Kin, ninety miles southwest of here.


    I tried to pull back on the pulse, to will it to stop, but it kept on going regardless of my efforts. Like my wishes no longer mattered, and I was only here for the ride. In a panic, I tried to cut myself off from the information by building a wall around my mind, but my efforts were meaningless.


    The information built up around the wall, continually pressing in on it until the wall crumbled, then shattered, allowing the information to swamp my thoughts with an onslaught. It was almost like it was lashing out at me for making it wait those few moments.


    For an instant, I feared that the energy would continue ravaging my mind and destroy me, but as soon as the initial rush broke, it settled down back into a gentle stream rather than the raging river it just was.


    Not that there wasn''t a change to the casting now, though. I could still sense that it was technically mine, but I knew I was no longer in control.


    I mean, I wasn''t in control before, but now I couldn''t even delude myself.


    The casting was deforming, with one section shooting off in one direction and all the other sides coming to a near comparative crawl. Any thought of controlling the casting was thrown into the trash and buried for all the good it would do.


    The change in the casting didn''t matter much, as it was still expanding at the same speed as before. Every moment, the sheer number of trees it was "discovering" was putting pressure on my mind. And for every tree, there were dozens of smaller plants.


    It''s too much! It''s too much! It''s too much! Some part of me was frantically repeating within my mind, or maybe I wasn''t. My thoughts were too clouded for anything to be clear. And then I felt a side of my Earth Pulse pass under something, filling my mind with surprise. What? Why would the be¡ª Augh!!


    I could not contain the information filling my mind, and my body and soul were rejecting it. I felt the black bliss of unconsciousness start to creep over my thoughts, but a flare of knowledge from my casting forced my mind to remain awake. To pay attention to it.


    The torrent was eating away at the edges of my being, and I gathered what will I had as I desperately held onto the information I had just learned. Fighting against the river, trying to tear it away from my grasp.


    This pain wasn''t like when my soul was ripped out of my body. No, this was like I was being crushed under a boulder. A completely different type of pain that would still result in my death.


    But until the moment when my soul was extinguished and my existence ceased, I would fight. Pulling on the last of my will, I dove deep within myself, unknowing if I was awake or dead, and created a shield around my core. A place that even the burrowing knowledge could not fully reach. In that place of thought, I held on to what I needed and let the rest of myself be ravaged by the storm of unwanted knowledge.


    I knew if I should open up to the information, I would be able to know everything about the land. I would know exactly how many stones were within any section of soil, like how I knew the back of my hand or my age. I would know the world in all its majesty.


    And then I would be smashed into nothing. My body would be left as a living husk without a soul to pilot it.


    Strong as my will might be, it began to crack. It was like pieces of myself were chipping away as my shield of willpower was ground into nothing and then began to fracture.


    A moment before my will and soul was shattered, everything stopped. It was like a faucet was turned off, and the flood stopped from one instant to the next.


    I didn''t trust the supposed safety, but I could no longer hold my shield, and the last remnants of it fell away¡­ and I felt nothing.


    No, it wasn''t that. All the knowledge of the world was there. And while I knew it would destroy me, a part of me wanted it. But between me and the knowledge was a vale of power I could never hope to match.


    The smallest tendril broke off from the shield, reaching out to me. While the tendril was small compared to the shield, it was like a giant to me. Like I was a spark and floating next to the sun.


    Right before it touched, the massive tendril halted. And I could feel that I would have to cover the last of the distance myself.


    Like releasing a muscle clenched for hours, I unfurled myself from the tight ball I had formed and slowly reached out, connecting with the mental tendril.


    The moment I touched it, I felt an unending consciousness press down on me and almost consume my soul with its presence alone. Even if I was at my best, I would be too weak to resist if it wanted me. With how weak I was, I could not stand even this level of degree of dissociation.


    But the presence didn''t want to consume me. No, it wanted¡ª needed to talk to me. I could feel them, almost like they were my own emotions. Though touch was slight, fleeting almost, it meant harming me, much to its regret.


    As tenuous as this connection was, I could feel myself burning up. Her presence caused pieces of myself to flake away. But even as she caused me harm, I felt her soothing and healed my wounds.


    "I am sorry, child," resounded the motherly voice of the world tree. "This was the only way we could speak. The Mantle must be taken up soon. Come to me, and save your people¡­" By the end, the words were little more than a whisper as the connection finally snapped, but the unimaginable power they contained caused the words to be engraved into my soul.


    As everything went dark, the words still echoed around me.

 B2 Chapter 49

    Today had been a good morning. Whether it would remain a good day, Sathera had her doubts, but she was still hopeful. Not that there was any point in worrying about what she couldn''t control. It was far better to spend one''s time focusing on the good things in one''s life.


    Like the fact, she saw Kathren this morning. Sure, she was covered in grime and didn''t look like she had a decent bath or meal in a week, but it was still Kathren.


    With Kathren suddenly saying she had to go on a mission and then disappearing for weeks, Sathera had started worrying that something had happened.


    At least Sathera now knew Kathren was still alive. It was more than she could say for Green, as no one saw him leave, let alone knew what happened to him.


    Well, maybe not, no one. Centurion Michal might know something, but he wasn''t saying anything. Which at least meant that he didn''t desert or go missing.


    Not that she thought Instructor Green was capable of such a thing. He had far too much honor and a sense of duty to be capable of such disgraceful behavior.


    ¡­Now that she thought about it, she had never heard of an elf deserting¡­ There must be one somewhere. But Scout Green would never do such a thing. So where was he?


    That one fact was what was making this day good instead of great.


    What more could you ask for a mission than lounging around all morning in nature?


    ¡­Not being in command of the mission would be better. But there was no one else. Bellous was competent as a scout, but leadership wasn''t meant for him.


    And Jim was¡­ well, he was Jim. Putting him in command of anything as large as a tent was asking for trouble. Seriously, he was put in charge of camp a couple weeks ago, and the team came back to one tent sitting in a new pit, one was in ribbons with three arrows sticking out of it, another was charred scraps, and the last was underneath an old tree that collapsed onto it.


    Jim said that the camp was attacked by a half dozen of these short black creatures crawling out from under the tree and that he had to fight them off. He said that he managed to wound four and even kill one¡­ but no one ever found any blood, tracks, or even weapons.


    As for where the "creatures" went, apparently, they climbed back into the tree and nearly collapsed it on him when they destroyed the tunnel.


    Needless to say, Jim was never put back in command of anything.


    Joxin, on the other hand, while he had the ability to command, had yet to recover from losing Purious on the mission to the Northern Forest. It wasn''t his fault, but when he told her he was done giving orders to people and getting them killed, Sathera found herself at a loss for words, and it put a damper on her mood for that whole day.


    Someone had to give the orders, and it was better that someone competent was giving them than not. It would hurt Sathera to see someone she commanded killed, and she would do everything she could to prevent it, but she knew it wouldn''t be enough. However, if she refused a leadership position because it would eventually make her feel horrible when someone under her command died while she had been trained from childhood to lead, that would be worse. Sathera always found that she could never watch something go wrong without at least trying to help.


    As for Joxin eventually being able to bear the burden of command again, Sathera couldn''t tell, but until he came up to her and told her so, she wouldn''t push.


    Which left her to take command of this group when the experienced scouts were off doing the real work.


    So Sathera led her team out here when it felt more like night than morning, and they moved through the damp, tall grass surrounding most of Southtown, getting their cloaks wet until they got into position. Then, they lay on the ground, letting the cold seep into their bones over the following hours. While it was less than comfortable, it was also what Sathera and the others signed up for.


    There was always something bad going on, and if you let every little thing get you down, you will never be happy. And that was not a way to live one''s life.


    Even if Sathera was one to let the little things get to her to the point she would voice a complaint, she wouldn''t do it for this. Their mission was necessary, if not as important as the other scouts.


    Some things were made clear from what Markus said and the orders they were given. The dark elves everyone was hearing rumors of were real, and they had infiltrated the city and were in control of a large portion of the slums.


    That was a problem, so the legion was moving to clear them out.


    To help with that, Sathera and the other scouts were here to watch for anybody escaping from smuggling tunnels. All fifty-eight scouts in the legion were currently spread out around the outer walls of South Town, with the cavalry further out than the scouts patrolling. If that wasn''t enough, the 3rd Cohort was broken up and positioned between the scouts and cavalry at key points.


    In short, it seemed like overkill to Sathera, but she was not the one making the calls. Not that she was criticizing anything, as it was always better to be safe than sorry.


    Their ¡ª and Anooha¡¯s teams on the east side of the gates ¡ª part in the plan was perching on a slight rise out in the plain slightly west from the middle gate of Southtown, keeping watch on a large field.


    Relaxing in the grass while on a picnic and resting was one of her favorite things to do as a child. This was¡­ less than enjoyable.


    Sitting in the grass wasn''t the bad part, though. It was flinching every time the grass rustled, thinking it was moving because someone was crawling through it. Sathera eventually calmed down, and then it became surprisingly easy to drift off and stare at nothing, even while part of the grass swayed. It was too easy to drift off, and she needed to constantly remind herself to keep focused.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    The only bright side was that her team was in one of the areas considered the least likely to have a tunnel exit. She was at least half a mile from the walls, but all that was an open grass field.


    Not uncommon along this stretch of the river, but farther to the east of Southtown, it became rockier with some large outcroppings, and to the west, the land rose going down the Rush, becoming hilly.


    Both of those locations had far more options to hide a secret entrance to a tunnel than an open plain. Sathera had told herself that dozens of times and even listed to Markus and those on her team say the same thing, but there was still a nagging suspicion in the back of her mind.


    It was something that her father told her in the past, "If you are to hide something, do it right in front of them. People don''t look past what they want to see." And isn''t the best place to load goods an open field?


    Sathera calmed her anxiety-ridden mind. She knew that her imagination was getting to her.


    It was just that this was her first time in command of a real mission. After the events in the Northern Forest, she had been around senior scouts nearly constantly. They might not have exactly been in ''command,'' but they were always there to offer their support if needed.


    Fifty-eight scouts might sound like a lot to station in a half-ring about three miles long as lookouts, but it wasn''t. You could place two people standing ten feet apart, and someone could slip by unnoticed in the gap between them.


    Sure, a lot of things went into that happening, mostly involving darkness and incompetence, but the point still stood. And that was ignoring that a single person standing in front of a tunnel with potential infiltrators from another nation inside it couldn''t do much more than report them and then be cut down.


    So they had to spread out in groups, widening the gaps between their positions.


    It all made sense and looked like a good plan.


    "Calm down, Sath," Jim said, his tone slow and languid like he was about to fall asleep. "We won''t see anyone."


    "You don''t know that Jim. We are covering a large area, giving lots of places for someone to pop up," Sathera said, her voice filled with a mild reprimand before her tone shifted to annoyance. "And what did I say about shortening my name?"


    "You need to let it go, Jim. It''s never going to work." Joxin added.


    "But Jox," Jim whined, "how could you¡ª


    "Nope." Joxin called, cutting Jim off, "Stop calling me that."


    Jim mumbled something that she couldn''t hear, but her mood was lighter than before. Sathera knew what Jim was doing and found it mildly amusing.


    The main reason people thought Jim''s name was stupid was because of how short it was. Like his parents didn''t care about him enough to put in any effort to name him. So he was going around trying to shorten everyone''s names. Joxin''s name was pretty short already, and he seemed extra sensitive about cutting Jim down whenever he tried to bring up a nickname.


    Back to the point, Joxin was right. Out of all the land around South Town, what are the odds that one of the tunnels would be around them? Unless they made so many exits that they are everywhere¡­


    Sathera felt the ground rumble, and her heart dropped out of her chest. A series of booms sounded all around, but she didn''t look to see, as she already had a good idea of what they were. Because she was watching four dust clouds explode in the field on her side of the rise.


    Today isn''t going to be a great day, Sathera thought, a hint of despair filling her. Not even if Green suddenly appears. No day filled with death could ever be called a great day.


    On rare occasions, you can go so far as to call the day of a battle a good day if the majority of the dead were the enemy, but the winds of fate were hardly so kind as to spread those days around with abandon. And her mood only grew worse the next moment.


    Jim, Joxin, and Bellous had reached out to her simultaneously, and she struggled to accept their tendrils for a second. It was a combination of shock at the appearance of all those tunnels and the pressure of sudden action being demanded of her.


    Sucking in a deep breath, she snapped into focus and swept out a single tendril hooking all of the tethers together. Not that she needed them. They all sent the same thing.


    In all, there were thirteen openings positioned a hundred feet from their hill, with figures in dark cloaks pouring out of every tunnel. There were quickly more than she could easily count, reaching into the dozens.


    A cold hand gripped her heat and squeezed the next second. The scurrying figures weren''t making a run for it. No, they were setting up earthworks.


    And this wasn''t the ground being turned asunder with the bludgeoned tip of a widened tendril. The earth was flowing like water into a circle around the rise. It was a feat that only someone on the level of a Knight Terra could manage.


    It wasn''t stone walls, but already, the earthen mound around them had reached three feet and was only growing in width and height every second. Just seconds into their construction, Sathera doubted that horsemen could break this defense and that legionaries wouldn''t waste their lives in this pointless position anytime soon. We''re trapped.


    Wrinkling her brows in confusion, Sathera stared at the walls forming around them. Sathera could see the tall grass spraying into the air and falling to the other sides of the forming wall. Why is ther¡ª


    Like a series of chimes all going off at once, Sathera felt the signs of contact from the scouts. All of the scouts. It was so many pulses that they mingled together into a single overlapping mass.


    A brief instant of concern passed through her as she was unable to tell where the pulses came from. Then she felt hysterical laughter bubbling at the back of her throat. If they have this many tunnels in a bad spot, how many tunnels are in the other areas?


    Even if she sent out a pulse to signal contact, no help would be coming. Not quickly enough or in significant enough numbers to matter. It was one of the downsides of being placed in a location no one expected to be attacked.


    If they wanted to live, they would have to save themselves, and Sathera could feel the time to do that was running out with every frantic beat of her heart.


    Think! Think! She mentally commanded herself in the hope something would come to her. They just keep coming out of their tunnels. There has to be at least a couple hundred by now. How do they have so many people?


    Sathera felt a frantic smile come over her face as she sent a message down the mental links. "Crawl to me. When you get here, we are going to rush into the tunnels. If they have enough room to hold that many people, they have room for us to disappear."


    She could feel the skepticism from the others but could also feel they didn''t have another idea for what to do. With the walls approaching seven feet, they were running out of options, so they started moving.


    Narrowing her eyes, Sathera studied the construction of the walls. Something was off. She could see a steady flow of grass flying over the top of the wall, but that wasn''t uncommon.


    Grass couldn''t be compressed like earth and would leave a weakness in a wall. It didn''t matter much with temporary walls, but if you wanted earthworks to last, putting in the extra effort of removing the grass was worth it.


    After you pulled earth from the immediate area of the wall, there wasn''t any more¡­ grass¡­ too¡­ pull¡­


    Her eyes snapped to the barren earth, spreading toward her position. It was already feet below where the grass grew, and at the bottom of it were black hol¡ª "We have to move!" Sathera mentally shouted, clawing forward on all fours, trying to get her feet under while keeping her speed, but it was already too late.


    The ground fell out from under the scouts, and they fell into darkness.

 B2 Chapter 50

    Sathera''s stomach lurched into her throat at the sudden collapse of the ground, and panic filled her mind as, from one blink of her eyes to the next, all she could see around her were dark brown clods of dirt. A scream of shock ripped itself from her throat as her mind was thrown back in time and filled with primal fear.


    She flashed back to her childhood when bandits caused an avalanche to crash into her family''s carriage, throwing it off the edge of a narrow road off a cliff and into the Rush. Then, she was separated from her mother as the cold water enveloped her, ripping her downstream.


    In desperation, she reached out with her hands, clawing at the falling dirt around her as if she could use the loose soil to climb back to the surface. Then she slammed into the ground, the impact forcing the air out of her chest in a sharp grunt.


    Sathera lay still with her eyes closed as she was peppered with dirt, desperately trying to suck in a breath. In a way, she was grateful for the impact, as it focused her mind back on the present, but she could do without the overwhelming need, but lack of ability, to breathe. When she finally got some air down her throat and into her lungs, it came with the fist-sized ball of soil filling her mouth.


    Or at least that was what it felt like to Sathera as she rolled onto her hands and knees, trying to hack out the mountain. The glob she spat onto the floor was what had made its way halfway down her throat, and as it splattered onto the ground, all she could do was stare at it in disbelief. Because there was no way that grape-sized lump was what was burrowing its way down her throat.


    Snapping out of her staring contest with the dirt when a large lump broke on her back, Sathera tried to quickly clean her mouth from the grit caking her teeth and cheeks with a few sputtering spits but realized it was fruitless. She would just have to live with it for now, as every moment she spent trying to clean her mouth was one wasted.


    Sathera knew they were running out of time, as the time of their impending deaths was quite literally pattering down like the sands of an hourglass as the soil and dust once covering the top of this hole settled. Even if they didn''t hear her scream, someone would notice them soon enough.


    "Get up and move!" Sathera mentally shouted within their mental network, getting disorientated acknowledgments in reply. They might not be moving fast, but at least they were moving.


    Following her own advice, Sathera pushed herself up with one arm while wiping the grime out of her eyes with the other.


    With the dust still hanging in the air, Sathera tried to look past the dust haze filling the hole with her one working blurry eye. But all she could make out was a wall of darkness a dozen feet away, which was good enough.


    The first few steps she took while shuffling forward were over uneven ground, but that soon changed into a smooth casted floor as she stepped onto the area of the chamber that still had a roof. Sathera released a small sigh of relief as she apparently went unnoticed and entered the shadows surrounding the hole.


    In the relative safety of the shadows, Sathera took a moment to turn around and look back at where she had fallen. The first thing she noticed was the lower half of Joxin''s body disappearing into the shadows on the far side of the room.


    Then she turned her head up and started to study the hole and pool of light. The hole had to be twenty feet in diameter, and the roof was ten feet above Sathera''s head.


    A shiver of dread ran down her spine as figures appeared at its edge, looking down into the chamber as if they were searching for something. Movement caused her eyes to flick down, and she saw the earth she had fallen with start to move.


    It only took another second for her to realize what was happening. They were building a large stairwell from the cavern to above ground. Why would they creat¡ª


    A ping of warning flooded through the network, and Sathera spun to the side. White spots filled her vision as she suddenly turned her gaze from the bright blue sky to the darkness hiding a tunnel entrance. She couldn''t see anything, but she already knew what was happening from the mental warning.


    And even if she wasn''t pinged with their Union, Sathera could get a rough idea of the situation. The sound of drawing swords and them hitting the armor and flesh was distinctive.


    Jim had found a tunnel connecting to this chamber, and people were coming through. Bellous was rushing up to help, but Joxin had twisted his ankle during the fall and was having trouble moving fast.


    Trusting that a casted room would have flat ground, Sathera quickly walked to what she could barely make out as shadowy forms moving. Even when she arrived, she could not pick out specific features, but she didn''t need to see them.


    Sathera knew where her teammates were, making everyone else down here her enemy. Jim was cracking open the head of the first person entering the room, and Bellous was taking up position on the far side of Jim from her, leaving the last side open for her.


    Reaching for her blade with her right hand and extending a tendril from it to wrap around the hilt, Sathera whipped it free in an upward diagonal slash. She felt the first two inches of the blade tare through the throat of one of a figure edging to the side of her two scouts. She knew the blow landed from the impact. Even felt a spattering of blood on her arm.


    And yet the cloaked figure didn''t react to her attack, even taking a step toward her. A twinge of fear ran through Sahtera as the dark form casually shrugged off the blow as if it didn''t matter. Or it didn''t exist¡­


    Stepping back into a defensive stance, Sathera focused on flooding her mind with psy to resist mental manipulation, but she felt nothing. Like there was no mental attack at all, but if anyone close to being a Reaver was outside of a family''s or the Senate''s control, they would be in a gang. So, not detecting manipulation could also be a trick.


    Sathera continued reinforcing her mind and was ready to hope back when the figure lashed out with an attack, but it never came. They only took another step toward her.


    But the moment their foot came down again, Sathera''s rushed mental defenses collapsed along with the figure, leaving the space open for those behind to advance as the first bled out at her feet.


    More out of long practice than thought, Sathera saw the opening in the enemy formation and took a moment to hack at the neck of the figure at her feet, ensuring their death, before stepping forward and thrusting out her blade at the next person in line.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    While her body was attacking, her mind was more focused on pulling back when this blatant trap finally snapped shut, as her lack of imagination to see the trap could be the only explanation for everything. Why else were they acting this way?


    Except the trap never snapped shut.


    The quarter inch of her sword tip stabbed into the base of their neck, but the blow was so hesitant that it was more like a jabbing with a needle than an actual blow. Then the person stepped forward, skewering themselves further onto her sword.


    Sathera was so shocked by the turn of events all she could do was stare blankly at the shadowy figure. When they collapsed, Sathera''s sword was wrenched out of her hand and tendril because she could not think to keep hold of it.


    The figure fell to the ground with no attempt to halt their fall. The hilt of her sword was the first thing to contact the ground, driving the sword through the side of their neck.


    All she could do was stare at the twisted figure lying on the ground as the seconds passed, and she could not bring her mind into focus. None of the ideas cascading through her mind could explain what had just happened.


    Movement from the corner of her eye coming right for her caused Sathera to jump to the side and spin frantically, reaching for the hilt of her sword¡­ That was lying at her feet. Blast.


    Grabbing the hilt of her hunting knife, she slashed at the form only to halt halfway through the motion and blink in surprise as she felt Joxin with his hands up, leaning back from her attack. "We half to go Sathera." He whispered while tilting his head to the empty tunnel, which was just a darker patch in the shadows.


    Jerkily, Sathera nodded once, getting her mind moving again, and noticed shouts from overhead pushing her to act. A second more confident nod came a moment later, and she bent down, ripping her blade free from the body without giving it another thought.


    "Jim," Sathera sent, "help Joxin keep up. Bellous, take up the rear."


    "Understood," they all acknowledged at the same time.


    Sathera walked through the archway and entered an underground passageway after a dozen steps and a couple sharp turns where she sheathed her sword. At first, she thought that the tunnel wasn''t lit at all, but as a few seconds passed, she noticed pale green mushrooms sporadically growing along the floor of the passage, giving off a ghostly light.


    Not that it should be called a light. The mushrooms were bright enough that you knew you were seeing shadows but not enough to actually see anything. Maybe you could make out the ground and walls a few inches from mushrooms, but nothing in the middle of the tunnel.


    It was basically teasing anyone who entered with almost seeing outlines before ripping it away. Why would they even put them there if it''s only this much light? Are they trying to torture all who enter? This seems unnecessarily cruel.


    Pausing for a moment to determine which way they should go, Sathera decided to go to the left. It wasn''t that she was able to keep her orientation from the fall and knew that left was toward the city and probably away from those clustering at the tunnel''s exits. Or that she released a pulse mapping the entire subterranean network.


    It was much simpler than that. To her right was the sound of voices, and to her left, Sathera couldn''t hear a thing. Seemed like an easy choice to her.


    Moving as silently as possible, Sathera and the others crept down the tunnel. After passing ten mushrooms, Sathera noticed a tunnel connecting to the passage as it had the faint light of day at its end.


    Tempting as the light was, she also knew it had to come from one of the same tunnels her team saw open around their hill. Picking up the pace, they hustled past the entryways.


    Holding her breath as they moved, Sathera felt as though, with how loudly her heart was pounding in her ears, it should be enough to alert the enemy all on its own. With Bellous gliding past the entryway, she slowly released her held breath, only for it to hitch to a stop.


    Jim somehow tripped on the flat ground, causing Joxin to put pressure on his bad leg. The gurgling hiss of pain he tried to suppress traveled up and down the hallway, bouncing off the walls, but it was nothing next to the clang of Jim''s unsheathed sword bouncing off the floor.


    The metallic ringing as swords were pulled from their sheaths was all she needed to hear. "Move!" She frantically ordered as she shot down the passageway.


    It was no longer time to try and retain whatever small amount of stealth they still held, a fact that everyone agreed with, as Sathera could now hear the scuffing and taps of their feet against the stone.


    The sound of running feet suddenly changed from a faint tapping to a pounding roar. It was like a century appeared out of nowhere to chase them.


    Releasing a pulse focused at their rear, Sathera almost fell in shock and pain as a sharp pain was driven into her temples. Sathera liked surprises as much as the next person; however, this was becoming a little tedious for one day. A single big surprise in a day was about all she could take.


    The latest surprise, and what might even be more shocking than finding the earth collapsing under her, was that a pulse released in this tunnel wouldn''t make it back to the caster, at least not after traveling any distance that would matter.


    All her pulse told her was that there were walls around her and the three people were traveling five feet behind her¡­ It didn''t even show the archway she knew was seventeen feet back.


    Yeah, really not that helpful. There might have been some faint fuzzy echoes farther back down the passage, but deciphering that garbled mess wasn''t worth the effort.


    By the time she deciphered it, whatever she could hear chasing them would already be upon them.


    "Bellous, can you see anything behind us?" Sathera sent to him.


    "Negative," Came his steady reply a second later. "It''s too dark to make anything out."


    Turning around and fighting was less than optimal. At best, they killed all of their pursuers, proving they were a threat, so as they wandered around the tunnels, an actually powerful person was chasing them. Or there was so many chasing after them that they could never hope to win.


    A far more likely outcome was that there were too many to fight even in a cramped tunnel, and they would be worn down ¡ª or stalled until someone showed up behind them ¡ª before being killed. Sathera doubted two people in this tunnel would intentionally walk into her blade.


    Picking up the pace, Sathera focused on moving down the tunnel. Minutes passed as they traveled, but after the first minute, no more side tunnels were connected to theirs.


    If it was within the first moments of entering the tunnel, Sathera might have been uncertain if they were passing side tunnels, but now she was confident. Besides her eyes adjusting to the tunnel''s "light," there was another reason. Jim ¡ª proving that he can be useful ¡ª noticed that every time there was an intersecting tunnel, there were two of those glowing mushrooms on either side of it. Without a tunnel, the clumps of mushrooms alternated sides of the passage about every five or so feet. It was odd.


    There was something to be said about making light in a secret¡­ smuggling tunnel? Though you don''t need this many tunnels to smuggle goods. It would even be counter-productive, as it creates a greater chance it would be discovered¡­ Whatever this tunnel was, it was secret, and a small amount of light when any passage was opened would be best. But this was ridiculous.


    Humans would basically be blind in here, and elves wouldn''t be that much better off. It was¡ª


    Thought being cut off, Sathera slid to a stop. A void was in front of her, as the path just ended in air.


    Looking around, Sathera picked out the spots of pale green of the mushrooms in the distance. They don''t look that far away, but how do we get there?


    Releasing a pulse, Sathera felt a shaper twinge of pain in her head, as if something was actively resisting and suppressing her this time. It seemed like an accurate guess, as her pulse barely made it to the platform''s edge at her feet this time, and it couldn''t detect anything past it. It was more help than her eyes, who couldn''t even find the floor she was standing on, let alone what was below the platform''s edge.


    There had to be something, but if she knew what it was, she would be one of the Great Elementals.


    "Hostiles rear." Bellous spoke into the Union, "I can make out their forms blocking out the mushrooms down the tunnel but can''t tell an accurate distance. They seem to be moving at a quick march.¡±


    The rapid series of reports point to an edge on Sathera''s need to move, as staying here would only lead to their deaths. There was no more time to think¡­ Knowing what they needed to do, Sathera hopped off the platform into the impenetrable darkness.


    Someone needed to find out how tall this platform was.

 B2 Chapter 51

    "Sathera!" Jim screamed into the darkness in alarm as he sensed what she had decided, but it was too late to try and stop her. His voice echoed in the chamber, multiplying into the chorus of a thousand people chanting their encouragement. Or cheering for her death.


    Ignoring the call, Sathera clamped her eyes shut as she started her descent. There was no difference between them being open or closed in the darkness, and it could only distract her as she searched for something she would never see. She hoped this fall would only be a few feet, but things could have been going better all day, so she didn''t have that much faith in that hope if she was being honest.


    Bending her legs to a half crouch to brace for her landing, Sathera focused on the wind hitting her face. She had a lifetime of experience running around and jumping outdoors, so she should be able to use the wind speed to roughly judge how fast she was going. Right? That was totally reasonable.


    All she had to do was recognize that speed and then pull up on her harness with a tendril to slow herself down. It was as easy as riding a horse¡­


    At least she had a plan to back up a spur-of-the-moment decision. And if Sathera could say so herself, it wasn''t that bad of one. Jim would have just jumped into the darkness and hoped for the best. Though she could have lowered herself over the edge of the platform.


    ¡­So things could have been better. Like, Sathera could have realized there was more to landing than flexing one''s legs at impact. No one ever really thought of it, but there was a lot that went into a jump to do it well and not get hurt. You had to angle your body to remain upright, position your feet right to take the impact, use your arms for balance, and, most of all, ensure your legs were tense enough to slow or stop your fall.


    All of which needed eyes or a sphere of perception to do correctly. Which Sathera didn''t have. But at least no one could ever tell her that she froze up from panic! Though she might have been a tad hasty as she panicked from their pursuers.


    A moment after the balls of her feet touched the ground, her knees were slamming into her chest before she tilted to the side and smashed her shoulder into the ground. She let out a squeal of shock at the jarring pain running across her shoulders as all of her careful preparation became meaningless.


    Sathera let the pain wash through her for a second, then pushed herself up to a sitting position with only a tiny wine in acknowledgment of the impact. Looking over her shoulder, Sathera saw nothing ¡ª ¡­why did I even look? ¡ª but she sensed that she was only five or six feet below the platform Jim, Joxin, and Bellous were standing on. All of them were finishing turns to look in her direction, radiating horror into the Union, which was slowly shifting into surprise at her survival before turning to amusement.


    "Never thought Sathera would be the one in the group I would have to worry about acting impulsively," Joxin muttered to the others.


    "I know, right?" Jim agreed, "Does take some pressure off me, though."


    "What are you waiting for," Sathera said over the sound of approaching feet, her tone flat, completely ignoring their conversation and trying to sound like she didn''t just throw herself into an empty abyss in the vain hope she would survive the fall.


    No, she knew the drop was only as far as her height, and no one could ever say otherwise.


    Turning away from the men and suddenly glad that the room was so dark that no one could see her ears flush in embarrassment, Sathera moved across the chamber, scanning the far wall. To either side, Sathera picked out the dot of glowing mushrooms as far as she could see. How long is this room? What''s it for?


    Eyes catching on a pair of mushrooms in the darkness were only a few feet apart. Relief flooded Sathera at the potential door, and she fast-walked over to it.


    "Argh!" Sathera grunted in pain as she slammed her knee into an unyielding object. She was approaching the suspected door from the side and was walking with her arm stretched out, anticipating running into another platform at chest height. Not what she was starting to suspect was a step up to it.


    Ignoring the throbbing pain in her knee, which was joining all of their others across her body, Sathera reached down, finding the stupid stone she ran into before crawling onto it. It might not be the most dignified, but Sathera was willing to accept that to live and get back to the surface.


    Gathering her willpower, Sathera did what she should have done across the chamber. Release a pulse while pushing past the suppression, suffusing the darkness. The result was a success in that she got a picture of everything around her¡­ for about seven feet.


    It was basically the same as the first pulse she used in the tunnel network and still wasn''t a fraction of the distance her pulses usually traveled. Actually, it wasn''t the same, as it felt like she was lifting a boulder with her mind to cast the pulse, eating a large chunk of her willpower for nothing.


    She was not complaining, as the pulse was more than enough to cover the area around her and do what she wanted. Sathera confirmed there was indeed a platform and a doorway before her. It was just irksome that her pulse wasn''t normal even when she put in the effort.


    And adding to her annoyance, her pulse did reveal two sets of stairs. Well, there were two blocks for stepping up and down.


    Instead of continuing forward across the platform and selflessly hopping into the darkness like she did, you had to make a forty-five-degree turn to either side to find the blocks. But even then, it was only a single large block cutting the step''s height in half.


    Whoever made¡­ whatever this was, couldn''t be bothered to put any effort into it and make it practical, instead deciding to make it barely functional. It was just lazy and inefficient. If you were going to do something, you should do it right. So you never have to go back and do it again if not out of pride in one''s craftsmanship.


    And it wasn''t like the craftsman was rushed, as this much tunneling would take months, if not years, of planning and construction. Sathera couldn''t wrap her mind around the thought process of acting in such a way.


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    This is far more than a smuggling operation, Sathera thought to herself as dread started to form in the back of her mind. What is going on down here?


    Hopping to her feet and stepping up, Sathera stood on the new platform and turned around to call out to the rest of her team. Only to step back in shock as they were already crowded around the edge of the platform.


    "I got Joxin," Sathera sent as she thrust her hand down. The man didn''t wait for another invitation, slapping his hand onto her forearm. Throwing her whole weight into it, along with a tendril tugging on her harness, Sathera caused Joxin to flop onto the platform and slide forward.


    He let out a grunt of pain as his foot was banged on the edge, but she didn''t have the time to care. The stomping of feet and their echos filled the chamber, and what little light she could make from where they crossed the chamber was now blocked by bodies.


    She might have heard their steps, but it was the only sound in the chamber. No voices called out for them to stop or insult them. They just continued to march like that was all there was to life. It made a shiver of fear ripple over Sathera''s body.


    This entire tunnel network was unnatural.


    Sathera bent down, grabbing one of Joxin''s arms as he attempted to get his limbs under him. Halling up on his arm, Sathera almost lifted him to his feet as she started to pull him forward. "Get to the tunnel!" She shouted over the eerily rhythmic thudding.


    What she received in response to the utterly unneeded command was a mental roll of the eyes from Jim as he was nearly tripping her and Joxin by stepping on their heels and a mental picture of a finger from Bellous. It wasn''t a middle finger but an index, as he was signaling he would take a moment to follow.


    Sathera wasn''t sure if she should be annoyed or not. At least they were listening to her and creating an ingrained habit to do so. On the other hand, there was a distinct lack of professionalism from the pair.


    "I counted at least two dozen." Bellous messaged the group when he finally turned to move after her. Well, at least we know fighting was definitely a horrible idea.


    Deciding to move past it and ignore the self-satisfied air they were both radiating in the Union, Sathera stopped half a dozen feet into the tunnel, feeling safe enough to stop for a moment and allowing Joxin the time to get his feet under him before they started moving again.


    Moments after they stopped, Bellous''s voice shattered the tension, filling the Union with a single word that slammed down on everything like a fully loaded legion pack, "Contact." The sudden ring of steel as two swords met underlined the seriousness of his words.


    "Where did they come from?" Sathera demanded from Bellous. "I thought we still had a few moments?"


    "Don''t know," Bellous distantly replied, his mind clearly focused on other things. "Saw the glint of steel at the last moment."


    "You ready?" Sathera mentally asked Joxin as she turned to him, ignoring the clanging of steel, making it too loud to have a normal conversation.


    "I''m not staying here," He resolutely responded, grim focus filling his mental voice. Sathera could not make out his face, but she knew what she would see if she could. His face would be blotchy from pain, but determination would be shining from his eyes.


    Sathera could feel his pain bleeding into the Union as his leg was jarred with every hopping step he took. And it looked like his ankle was more severe than a sprain, but he would rather die than slow them down any more than he already was.


    "Okay." Sathera sent, accepting him at his words.


    Glancing to the mouth of the tunnel, Sathera was an outline of who she knew was Bellious standing a foot from its mouth, deflecting the slashes and stabs of the figures surrounding it. Whenever he was in danger of being overwhelmed, Jim would slip around his sides to block or attack as needed.


    Sathera couldn''t make out more than silhouettes of the figures involved, but she could see their blades flashing in the mushroom''s near-nonexistent light. It was almost like a light source was shining down on that one spot, as the steel was reflecting the light in such a way that every blade was virtually glowing a pale green in the tunnel.


    "We''re moving," Sathera ordered, "pull back and disengage."


    Sathera kept her eyes forward as she moved down the passage ¡ª for as much good as it would do her ¡ª but half of her mind was monitoring the moved battle behind her.


    As the team moved, there was no longer a buffer between them and their pursuers, meaning every step had to be taken carefully, or the rear guard would be killed. On the bright side, overwhelming someone who had room to simply step back and couldn''t be flank was nearly impossible without a significant skill gap.


    A gap that their attackers didn''t have over Bellous in these confines.


    The only thing marking their slow progress was the slight glow of the mushrooms at the sides of the passage. And given that they all basically looked the same, Sathera had a whispering doubt in the back of her mind that they were somehow walking in place as the stupid glowing mushrooms moved.


    As one corridor ended, she would pick the next direction by instinct. Minutes piled upon each other as they traveled. Sathera quickly lost track of time and direction but was convinced they had looped back on themselves more than once. During that time, they began to switch off who was "helping" Joxin and who was in the rearguard position.


    Whoever was helping Joxin was practically carrying him at this point. And the one in the back was constantly fighting off shadows.


    Their pursuers were relentless, but other than always pressing them forward, they were little danger after their surprise attack on Bellous failed. And with these endless tunnels, their rear guard only had to step back to dodge an attack. It was really that simple.


    It was like a sword was tied to a stick, and their pursuers were simply lifting and dropping it as they stepped forward. Or rotating from one side to another at the hips across the tunnel.


    If they were trapped against a wall, the motions would have been dangerous, as they were filled with power, but as it was, not so much.


    After the first hour, dodging their attacks became so easy they began lashing out with counterattacks. Nothing so risky that it would open them up to retaliation, but cuts to the leg, arms, and sometimes chest.


    Jim was the only one able to go for a kill, as he had a spike on him he was practicing with, and he had become good enough to land the occasional fatal blow.


    The chase became one of attrition. Would the constant tension wear down Sathera and the others, or would they kill off the line of¡­ is puppets the right word? Sathera wouldn''t disgrace humanity by calling these shells people, even if they were the same shape.


    As never once in all their time together did they scream or utter a word.


    Though she knew they all knew they weren''t keeping the best track of time, Sathera and the others agreed that their struggle had spanned over the course of hours.


    Left and right, passages that sloped up and slightly down, they fled through countless passages that they had long forgotten the path of.


    When Sathera happened to be helping Joxin along, she turned a corner of the passage and found herself snapping her head to the side and covering her eyes.


    A light bright enough to illuminate the world was burning into her eyes. After a few seconds of pain and teary blinking, Sathera could look at the distant torch lighting up a room.


    Though she was standing at least a hundred feet down the hallway, she could see most of the chamber. A group of eight was huddled around a torch and standing behind a large man with beard down to his chest storming forward to slam his hands onto a wooden desk to loom over a black cloaked figure sitting calmly on its other side.


    The voice of the infuriated man echoed down the hallway, causing Sathera''s breath to catch in her chest, "When is ya''r damn army arriving! My men are being slaughtered up there!"

 B2 Chapter 52

    There was no response from the seated figure, and Sathera could see their quill continue to slowly scrape over a parchment. It was apparent to everyone that to the seated figure, the man trying to loom over him didn''t exist and wasn''t worth a scrap of his attention.


    Turning to look at the other two passages of the T-intersection, Sathera saw the open dark hallway to her back and Bellous stalling their pursuers down the tunnel they came. They could turn and run into the darkness, leaving no one in the room the wiser, but that choice just felt wrong to Sathera.


    From one sentence, she had already learned of an army approaching. What more could she learn from listening in? Hopefully, they would learn about whose army it was and where it was coming from, but leaving once they learned who these two conspiring groups were and what they were doing down here would also be acceptable. As long as the Triad was looking for an army, they would find it.


    So many questions were forming in her mind, and none of them would be answered by blindly fleeing. Not to mention that those with the torch came from somewhere. Gathering more information for the 15th Legion was worth the risk of their lives.


    "Rush forward," Sathera messaged her team while the seated figure continued their power play. "Create distance between us and our pursuers. Go full stealth; I want to hear what they have to say."


    Sathera felt the Union dim as everyone focused their willpower and psy on muffling the sound of their loping strides as they ran down the passage.


    Seconds passed as they rushed forward, and a tense silence filled the chamber at the end of the tunnel. No one appeared willing to say another word after the man''s outburst, and even their failed intimidator was slowly shifting back to a slightly hunched stance like he was called before his father for a scolding.


    The man was left to wilt for most of a minute, more than enough time for Sathera and the others to sprint all but the last twenty feet to the tunnel exit. The thudding beat of her heart pounded in Sathera''s chest, and an overwhelming need built within her to suck in a wheezing breath, but she suppressed it.


    Sliding the paper to the side with two fingers while setting the quill down, the figure grabbed another stack of documents from the other side of the desk and placed them in front of his body before layering his hands on top of the pages. Only then did the figure speak in a hissing rasp, "And so are our thralls and my brothers. You are not the only one suffering losses. But do not strain your limited intellect thinking of a solution. Our forces will be here soon to take the fort."


    The bearded man, once towering over the table, collapsed into himself with every word, ringing out the arrogance and rage-fueled confidence once burning inside of him, leaving a shriveled husk in its place. It didn''t help that the seated man quite literally had the shadows on his side, emphasizing his every word.


    Like a wave of spilled ink, the shadows roiled out from under the cloaked figure''s chair and desk. The substance was like condensed shadows, if shadows could glisten wetly in the light like tar.


    Whatever the inky substance was, it spewed out to cover the area behind the table, making the cloaked figure appear to be nothing more than a torso poking out of pure, impenetrable darkness. Strands of tar broke off from the black mass, stretching toward those gathered before the desk.


    The appendages were a mixture of twisted scythes and deformed claws ripping at the light and earth alike as they extended and receded randomly. To Sathera, it looked like the shadows obscured some forsaken abominations struggling to rend their way into reality, uncaring of the damage they caused in the process.


    The man sat placidly amungst the writhing shadows, his powers scraping over every surface as it encroached on the light''s domain, slowly gouging into casted earth as it pulled itself forward.


    Then, like it could no longer stand up to the torch''s light, the squirming shadows pulled back underneath and behind the desk, lashing out at the light with miniature appendages compared to a second before.


    The large, burly man gave a visible sigh of relief as it looked like the shadows and the malformed things it hid would recede to whence it came. He stepped forward, his mouth open, and diving into a low bow when the shadows surged across the room once more.


    Staggering back in panic as the living shadows advanced, the group''s supposed leader rushed to join the rest of his fellows huddled around the torch. The absolute darkness pressed in along the ground with sputtering surges as it rapidly clawed forward before slightly retreating like a tide, only to flood forward again.


    From the ceiling, spears of shadows plunged into the faltering light, their tips dripping a black liquid that evaporated in the torch''s red glow into a black fog, vanishing to nothing before it could hit the ground.


    The group surrounded by the shadows was practically climbing over each other to get closer to the torch, and it looked like they would soon be consumed as the claws brushed at their ankles. But, as soon as it looked like it would all end, the oppressive darkness vanished as suddenly as it appeared.


    Sathera didn''t know what the creeping shadows were or how they were formed, but a spark of fear was ignited within her. Because the walls of the room were covered in gouges and divots.


    Those around the torch had pressed into one another so tightly that it would be hard to fit a dagger between them. And the man, once looming over the desk with the implicit threat of violence, had fallen onto his backside and was scrambling to push himself closer against the legs of his comrades.


    As the man continued to beat his feet against the ground, his eyes were locked open, showing their whites as hysterical fear overwhelmed his mind. While the rest of his body scrambled to get farther away, his head was locked on the desk, and the one behind it, like it was some kind of venomous snake ready to lash out at him.


    Under the drumming of the man''s feet, the scrape of a chair sliding back sounded, and everything went silent. Everything but a single set of footsteps grinding stone fragments under their feet as a shadow in the shape of a man walked across the room.


    "They''re coming around the bend," Bellous sent into the Union from where he trailed at the back of the group, breaking her out of her fixation on the scene playing out.


    Sathera turned her head to glance down the dark tunnel, hearing the steps of their pursuers, then turned back to the light in mild irritation. She wanted to hear more of this conversation, but time was quickly running out with all of the posturing. Not that she would give up on gathering information quite yet.


    "Move closer," Sathera sent into the Union as she crept forward. "Bellous, seal off the tunnel. Jim, if you get a clean shot at the dark elf, take it. And keep your swords sheathed for now; remember the glow."


    No one sent a question into the network, but Sathera could feel disabling skepticism at her command. Sure, everyone had heard rumors and been told dark elves existed, but few, if anyone, had claimed to have seen one.


    And while the figure at the end of the tunnel was strange, the hood it wore covered its features. How could she know that it was a dark elf?


    Sathera didn''t know, but from everything she had just seen and heard, there was no other reasonable explanation. Sahtera''s security in her own statement stifled any comment against it, but she could still feel their doubt. And knew that if she was wrong, there would be comments.


    Jim moved past Sathera and Joxin as he pulled out, strung, and knocked an arrow to the string of his bow in a handful of seconds. In a half crouch, Jim stalked forward, his feet silently moving over the ground.


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    To her surprise, Sathera felt Joxin pull away from her and begin moving under his own power while half-leaning against the wall. "I can move this fast on my own. And I''ll only slow down your reaction." He sent after her inquisitive probe into the Union.


    Sathera felt slightly chagrined at his comment, as she should have thought of it. An arrow in the back will alert anyone they are being attacked. And some degree of violence will be the result. And if a little more force was needed to bring a fight to an end with them still safe, well, having an unsheathed sword at the ready would be welcome.


    But this didn''t look like it was going to end so simply.


    If the darkness moving wasn''t Sathera''s imagination, and she seriously doubted it was with all the damage, they were dealing with a powerful person. Perhaps one stronger than a knight, though a knight would be bad enough.


    She wouldn''t even consider someone on the scale of a city lord, for if that was true, they were already fucked as the dark elf was just playing with them, and they would be dead soon enough. No need to worry about it.


    No matter how stories romanticized the power of wit and skilled planning to surpass the odds, there was no overcoming that large a gap in raw power.


    As the group around the torch separated, trying to look casually in front of the dark elf like they weren''t all scared shitless. Sathera blinked in surprise.


    The red light of the torch was coming from a sunstone. It was a low-quality one, as the light it gave off was red, but all sunstones were expensive, and it was strange that these people had one. Where did they get it?


    A chuckle, sounding like the scraping of sandpaper over jiggling seashells, filled the chamber and echoed down the hallway, sending a shiver down Sathera''s spine. ¡°Haha¡­ You have quite the gall to tested my patience in such a way insects. It could almost be admired, if I didn¡¯t know its source. And yet come here and demand action¡­ when it is your lot in life to suffer our forbearance. You are weak. Your people are weak. And you think you have the right to come here and question me?"


    "Forgive us, Chevalier," Begged the man, getting to his feet as he bowed his head so low he could probably touch his nose to his knee if he shifted slightly to the side. "We were¡­ merely scared of the death toll¡­ If this continues¡­ we won''t be able to serve the Matriarch properly!"


    The room filled with the dark elf''s laughter again, but this time, there was a cruel amusement filling it. Coming to a hitching stop, the dark elf began to speak, sounding like he was talking to himself, "My people scorn me for what I am. My talent with the mind has always been¡­ lacking. And yet, unlike most who become serfs, I won my place back into my clan. You Olimpians are brutish with your mental powers. Always wielding raw power rather than developing the finesse it takes to control the mind and accumulate true power. Your knights only know how to wield what is before them. They can never imagine the power to be gained by controlling the elements of darkness and light. Which is strange, considering the element''s constant battles all around us. Don''t you think? Though it does speak to your people''s imagination."


    The implications of his words sunk into everyone who heard them, and the shadows pressed forward again, eating away at the edges of the light as what looked like countless tentacles were trying to burst free from the shadow''s grasp. "My strength might be focused in the martial direction, earning the scorn of my kin, but I have more than enough skill to read the minds of sniveling fools and traitors like you." At the elf''s words, every human before him flinched back like he had struck them. The reaction only earned another chuckle before he continued, "It says something when I call you the worst of your people. And I feel the greed and need to keep your puny power intact, radiating off you¡­ But you bring up a good point. Your value to the Matriarch will diminish if your forces are crippled."


    The darkness in the chamber bled away from the room''s center and back to the walls, and the suntorch was finally free to illuminate those who huddled within its reach without struggling for dominance.


    The only unnatural shadow left within the light''s reach was the one roughly in the shape of a man. Whenever Sathera tried to study the figure and find his center for an attack, every time she tried to focus her eyes on him, she had to look to one side or another, feeling slightly nauseous after a few seconds. Something about how the shadows churned made her feel like she was falling.


    "Pull your forces into the tunnels," Came the rough voice from the shadow, "Let the thralls take the brunt of the legion''s blow."


    "Thank you," mewled the large bearded traitor, bobbing up and down like a chicken in his deep bow. "Thank you for your benevolence, Chevalier."


    "Go," said the dark elf, a fuzzy shadow arm flicking out before connecting back to the central body. "Get out of my sight."


    The group shuffled to a dark corner of the room, each of the men and a couple of women bowing and offering their thanks to the living shadow. The shadow said nothing, only standing impassively to all their words as if they meant nothing to him.


    Given what she had seen, their words really were worth less than the air it took to speak them to the dark elf. He might even pay them never to contaminate his breathing air with their presence again.


    As the group reached the wall, it revealed a tunnel entrance. That they were going to take their light into¡­


    Eyes turning to Jim, she saw him a step ahead of her, his whole body radiating focus, the arrow half drawn on this bow. From the corner of her eye, she saw the torch move, placing the shadow figure between the light and them.


    The torch''s light didn''t burn away the shadows revealing his figure, but it did show the edges of his profile. It was like a slightly darker patch in a shadow.


    It wasn''t much, but it was enough. In one motion, Jim pulled back on the string until the feather on the shaft nearly brushed his face before releasing it.


    The twang of a bow sounded in the passage, sounding like she was standing next to a squad of archers instead of just Jim.


    While the arrow was still in flight with the sound echoing down the tunnel, the shadows around the dark elf flared and seemed to almost thicken and coalesce into a substance.


    As the arrow struck the shadows, there was a crack like the breaking of wood, then a thunk.


    At the sound of what sounded an awful lot like the breaking and splintering of an arrow shaft, Sathera started sprinting down to the chamber. They had covered most of the distance as they crept forward, but she still had to cover twenty feet to make it to the elf.


    With an afterthought, she extended a tendril down her leg to create a dome around her foot, muffling her steps as best she could. She could still make out small taps of her feet, as she was not the most practiced, but it should help conceal her approach at least a little.


    Before she had completed her fourth step, Sathera felt a gust of wind on her cheek and saw an arrow flash by her head. A spark of hope that the dark elf would be downed with this shot welled up inside of her, allowing them to move on to their next problem, but that hope shattered to join the rest of her hopes for the day, quickly joined by the broken arrow.


    As a counterpoint, the elf''s shadows were standing firm against her greatest fears, as it was confirmed the shadow cloak was basically a knight''s armor and was too resilient for the arrow to penetrate.


    "Shift your aim to the gangsters," Sathera told Jim, "I''ll handle the dark elf." Whether she could back up her words¡­ Sathera was about to find out.


    After another few steps, the shadow blob and traitor gangsters behind him finally overcame whatever shock they were dealing with and started to act. For the gangsters'' part, they had drawn knives, batons, and, in one case, a short sword out of their clothing.


    There wasn''t a rush forward to confront her and her team, but they were moving to stand behind the shadow figure like the outstretched wings of a bird. Instead of looking forward, watching the tunnel where arrows had come out of, they were throwing rapid glances that basically became a stare at the dark elf, like they wanted some acknowledgment that he saw them helping.


    It was a mistake that Jim would not pass up. The first scream filled the chamber as a wiry, gray-haired old man found an arrow shaft sticking out of his chest.


    Focusing on her target, Sathera''s hand fell to her sword hilt and unsheathed it before pulling her arm back for a thrust. Throwing away from any attempt at stealth, Sathera used one tendril to pull herself forward and a second to form around her sword.


    In all barriers, there was a weak point. More accurately, there was a more vulnerable point than the rest of the shield. It was a combination of expectations that no one would attack that particular spot, so you don''t exert your will there and mental focus. Few people could manage to apply their will equally across a casting for long.


    If you got to know someone and practiced against them enough, you could sometimes predict where those spots would be. But without that knowledge, you would have to go with the general way to break a barrier.


    Hit it as hard as you can on as small of a point as possible.


    If the elf was a good enough caster to apply his will evenly, all the better for her, as it wouldn''t matter where Sathera hit, so she might as well start off strong for his chest. If not, then maybe she could make herself a threat and force the elf to turn, opening up his back to Jim.


    Lunging forward into the light with a tendril-empowered thrust, her sword shot forward with a hiss of air. The impact sounded with a small thump, and she felt her sword push forward slightly as the shadows rippled.


    Looking up from her sword to where the elf''s eyes should be, she saw nothing but an emotionless darkness.


    Sathera did not freeze up in fear at his power, skill, or her impending death; she was too well-trained for that. Even as she looked into the black depths of the monster before her, her arm and tendril were pulling back to strike again.


    Before her blade could land a second strike, a slight ripple ran along the shadow''s surface. And the next thing Sathera knew was something striking her in the chest and throwing her back the way she came like a rag doll.

 B2 chapter 53

    Sathera tumbled backward over the ground more times than she could count, as the world around her was nothing but a blur. After what felt like minutes of rotating but was probably only seconds, she found herself balancing on her shoulders as her momentum died, and she rolled back along her spine, her heels flopping against the floor, adding another dull ache to spike through her body. It felt like a wall of a house was swung and bashed into her front, leaving a pulsing bruise in its place.


    But it was just pain. A sensation that had no place in a battle so long as nothing was damaged. And even if some body part was injured, the pain should only be acknowledged as a warning of a potential weakness that needed to be accounted for before discarding.


    With a quick shake of her head, which was a mistake that did nothing to help, and a flex of her body to ensure everything was still working correctly, Sathera pivoted to her stomach and started carefully pushing herself to her feet so as to not fall over.


    Sathera''s vision was swimming as it went in and out of focus, distorting the shadows below her body. It would make finding where her sword ended up nearly impossible, but she needed her weapon back now, not in a few moments when her eyes cleared. She could have hung onto it, but holding onto an unsheathed sword during an uncontrolled tumble was asking for the blade to slice your own throat.


    Seeing nothing but bare casted earth between her hands, Sathera lifted her head slightly to search farther out, blinking in surprise as her eyes landed on something. She honestly didn''t expect to find anything, but that''s the power of positivity!


    As long as you try while hoping for the best, good things will eventually happen. You just can''t be devastated when things end up going wrong.


    The torch was only a few yards from her, lying in one of the grooves gouged into the ground. It still provided light to most of the room, but there were far more shadows shrouding the earth than when it was being held¡­ Making searching for her sword an act of futility.


    Getting to her feet while only swaying slightly, Sathera''s head jerked to the side, taking her eyes from the ground as she heard Joxin message her, "Catch!". Sticking out her right hand and forcing a tendril through it, Sathera coiled the tendril around his sword''s hilt and guided it into her hand without looking.


    Joxin might not be able to fight hand-to-hand effectively right now, but he could fire his bow well enough to put an arrow into someone twenty feet away. A point that was proven when she heard then saw two arrows sunk into two of the gangsters on the far side of the room.


    The woman fell to the floor, clutching her thigh around the arrow shaft and screaming in pain. Sathera felt confused as she looked at the woman. Shouldn''t she be able to handle pain better? How did she ever become a gang leader without fighting? Then, discarding the useless thoughts, she took in the room.


    While the first arrow was a flesh wound, the second arrow buried itself deep in the chest of its target. The target being the large bearded leader, who was now clutching at the arrow sticking out of the side of his chest as he staggered backward. He only stopped when he hit the wall of the chamber before slumping down it, coughing up blood to cover the front of his clothes.


    The traitors, who were also scattered around the edges of the room, looked to the two wounded ¡ª or probably just their leader ¡ª and started edging towards the tunnel they were heading to before. Fear was plastered on their faces, and their eyes were darting around like rats desperate for escape.


    Moments before the first would break and flee, the bearded man coughed out from where his upper body sat in the shadows filling the room''s edges. "Fools!" A slight sneer made it into his voice through his wet-sounding words, "You think we can retreat now? After what we have done? No, there will be no scurrying back to our dens, hoping to go unnoticed or be too big of an effort to dig out. It is either victory or dea¡ª


    The man''s voice abruptly cut off, and everyone waited a moment, their gazes slowly changing to one of confusion. From his chest up, he was covered in shadows, but they could see enough that there was no justification for the abrupt stop in his speech.


    Sathera could even feel confusion from the Union as Jim was just about to release another arrow at the man. There was no point in leaving a unifying presence in an enemy force when one or two arrows could take it off the field.


    A voice that sounded like claws scraping over stone came from every direction, grinding its way into Sathera''s ears while vibrating her bones with its wrath. "Worms! Insects! Traitors~!" The far side of the room was flooded with impenetrable shadows as the words rang out.


    The deformed shadow appendages that looked like they once belonged to creatures rapidly pulled the shadows forward. All around the room, shadow hands, with any number of fingers, tore up the ground as they struck out of the blackness into a faltering torch light.


    Sathera planted her legs and spun around, anticipating having to fight off the casting, only to be left flat-footed as that moment never came. None of the shadows came close to her or anyone else on her team. In fact, their side of the chamber didn''t look like it had any of the shadow casting at all.


    "I expected a betrayal. I even planned for it, but after our first meeting, I never thought you had enough of a collective spine to act." The voice sounded strained and kind of wet but still filled with unbridled wrath and power. "Betrayal and backstabbing are as common as breathing with my people, but so are retaliations of mutual destruction."


    With his hissing last words, the claws dragged the shadows towards the traitors. This time, instead of just hands and arms reaching out of the darkness, whole bodies were diving out of their inky depths. Some appeared humanoid, but they were deformed and twisted. Horns or spikes sticking out of random places or longer arms than should be natural with multiple joints.


    "We''re innocent!" Screamed one of the men, looking around in panic.


    "Have mercy!" Added the woman with an arrow sticking out of her leg.


    The dark elf only vindictively laughed in pleasure as their pleas for life sounded before they began to turn into them begging for death, but he never stopped his casting. A pang of sympathy ran through Sathera at the sounds.


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    Squashing the feeling a moment later, Sathera reminded herself that traitors deserved nothing but death, though she would have given them a quick one. Like they were physical walls, she stumbled back from their screams, huddling with Jim and Joxin at their entrance to the chamber, hoping to go unnoticed. All they could do was cower as seconds passed, their ears filled with unending, blood-curdling screams.


    When the screams finally stopped, Sathera thought she was imagining it, as her ears were still ringing. It wasn''t until the shadows began to bleed away that she was sure everything was over.


    In the deathly silence, what greeted their eyes was blood.


    The bodies of the traitors were torn limb from limb. There were countless scratches carved into every portion of their skin until Sathera could not find a section of unmarred flesh on any body part scattered around the room. And there were a lot of body parts.


    Not that she tried all that hard to search for a clear patch of flesh on the body sections. It was just that not looking at them would force her to look at the ceiling, which was impract¡ª wait, never mind, there is some up there, too. It was impossible to tell who was who, or even man from woman, as the only defining feature left on anything was that the pieces were made of meat and bone.


    In some ironic twist or a sign of the dark elf''s morbid humor, the torch had been picked up and stabbed into the torso placed in the center of the room, leaving it to stand tall in the center of all the death.


    As the room appeared to go back to regular shadows, the dark elf appeared as if out of nowhere, with his back to them, looming over the torch and torso, looking down at the body.


    "There''s nothing more insulting than a sloppy betrayal, you vermin," the elf sneered.


    Sathera''s heart skipped a beat when the elf''s unveiled body turned to face her. Only for a wave of relief to crash through her, causing her whole body to slump in place.


    The first arrow Jim shot was sticking out of the elf''s chest, and the entire front of his clothes was soaked in blood to the point it was dripping from the hem of his black tunic. The elf''s face was blotchy gray, his lips were a bright blue, and his eyes were glazed over.


    He took one step towards Sathera before collapsing to the ground, snapping the few inches of the arrow shaft sticking out of his chest as it hit the ground.


    With the crack of the arrow shaft, the room settled into silence, none of the four living willing to say a word for a moment.


    "I knew I didn''t miss," Jim grumbled, breaking the silence.


    "If you hit him in the heart, we would already be passed here by now," Bellous snapped from the rear, his mental voice filled with irritation and weariness.


    "What are you grumbling about? Everything worked out great this way." Jim sent, sounding defensive. "The elf killed everyone in the room for us."


    "Yeah, while I was doing the hard work of entertaining all these bastards back here." Bellous griped.


    As Sathera moved to the table, she heard Jim mutter, "Should consider yourself lucky to entertain anyone with that face." Making her stifle a snicker to not hurt Bellous''s feelings. But Bellous did have a very¡­ homely face. Not that it was bad or anything.


    Grabbing every paper on the desk and shoving them into a satchel hooked around the chair, Sathera spoke in the Union, "Bellous, pull back to the entrance to the room and hold it. Jim, grab the torch and search the room for exits. Joxin, lean-guard."


    ¡°Harhar¡­ Sath." Joxin messaged in the mental network, his voice as dry as a desert breeze as amusement flooded from Jim and Bellous.


    It was a matter of seconds for Sathera to gather the documents on the desktop and throw the bag over her shoulder. By then, Bellous had arrived after a sprint to guard the tunnel they came from.


    She started throwing open drawers, looking for other documents, but only found a bottle, writing supplies, and a small bag of coins. Turning to the wall behind the desk, Sathera saw darkness, the light too faint to make anything out. But she doubted that they were holding anything. The whole room, lone desk, and chair gave Sathera the feeling of a convenient meeting place where the dark elf could do paperwork rather than a command center.


    "Jim, how many exits do we have," Sathera asked.


    "Three," Jim answered, "Four, if you count the one we came from."


    "Anything special about them?" She questioned, not expecting anything. He did have a light now, so there could be something that they had all missed in the dark.


    "One looks like it''s angled down," Jim answered with relevant information, surprising her with mental images of each tunnel. "It''s the tunnel next to where the criminals were headed. The other two look the sa¡ª"


    "Contact!" Bellous thundered in the mental network, cutting Jim off.


    Sathera''s mind raced at the information. They had a chance here. It would remain a fact that the only direction they could go, where they would know where the passage was leading them, was the one they arrived from. You know, the one where all of their pursuers were coming from.


    If they could end the threat chasing them here, they could move with more caution and actually spend time scouting. It sounded good, and they had light now, making any fighting far easier, but Sathera suspected they were running out of time. A disturbance like the one the dark elf just caused was unlikely to go unnoticed.


    But the chance to be free from the axe hovering over their necks for the last half a day was just too tempting for Sathera.


    Pulling her gaze away from the tunnel the traitors were trying to take, Sathera came to her decision, "Okay," she sent, "It''s time to roll the dice. We''re using the door as a chokepoint and slaughtering those fuckers. But we can not stay here long, so we must make this fast."


    "Yes, Ma''am," Everyone chorused with enthusiasm. She wasn''t the only one who had formed a grudge against those¡­ Are these the things the dark elf was referring to when he said thralls? It would make sense.


    "Jim and Joxin, you pepper them with arrows and keep watch. Bellous and I will hold them back." With everything as taken care of as possible, Sathera jumped forward, standing right behind Bellous from where he blocked the thralls'' entrance into the chamber.


    "Ready?" Sathera asked. When Bellous gave a curt nod, she sent, "Step back and to the right."


    Thrusting forward as the leading thrall chased after Bellous, Sathera tore out a piece of his throat with a spray of blood. The man stood another second before collapsing from blood loss.


    Before either Sathera or Bellous could do anything, the next thrall to step up had two arrows appear in her eyes, and she fell to the ground dead.


    The mindless creatures stood no chance while standing against them alone, with Sathera and Bellous to the sides and the other two shooting between them. Figure after figure was quickly cut down.


    They had just gotten into a rhythm and formed a seven-body high pile of bodies, partially blocking the passage, when Joxin called out, "We''re being surrounded! Two passages are cut off!"


    "To the third!" Sathera instantly ordered, internally cursing herself for taking a stupid risk.


    A moment later, she felt Joxin''s focus shift to the two tunnels next to each other. He sent a mental picture of what he was seeing, and her heart sank. There were a half dozen glimmering spots in the darkness, spots that were unmistakably not there before and had to come from creatures hiding in the shadows all along that side of the room.


    Pivoting with Bellous so as not to leave an opening, Sathera moved toward the last open tunnel. Throwing a glance over her shoulder, she saw the glimmers in the shadows with her own eyes.


    At that moment, the creatures must have noticed their prey was trying to escape, so four jumped forward into the light, wielding crudely forged curved swords. Sathera blinked in surprise. She had never seen creatures like them. They were short, dark-skinned creatures with fangs.


    "I told you they exist!" Jim roared into the Union, his voice full of vindication as he shot an arrow at them.

 B2 chapter 54

    "Not the time or place, Jim," Joxin sent as he hobbled as fast as he could to the only exit not blocked by enemies. As he sent the message, Jim''s arrow landed in the chest of one of the creatures who leapt forward, downing it and causing the others to throw themselves back into the shadows from fear. There''s no courage in these creatures, Joxin thought with a bit of scorn.


    The thralls, on the other hand, were marching over the bodies of the dead like they were nothing more than large, wobbly stones, reinitiating their relentless pursuit. Not that much to worry about there.


    But that wasn''t entirely accurate. They were a terrifying foe that would wear anything down with their relentless, implacable march. But that was a problem for the future exhausted Joxin and team. In the short term, running away from them was easy.


    As Jim carried the suntorch across the room, Joxin squinted his eyes at their objective. It looked like a shadow just¡­ Stopping and pulling free an arrow from his quiver, Joxin knocked it to the string and released it just to the side entrance to the tunnel at a slightly dark parch. Joxin would normally ignore what looked like nothing more than a shadow, but recent events made him wary of them.


    And he watched it appear out of nowhere. It was kind of suspicious.


    A high-pitched cry of a wounded beast filled the room in response to his shot, and a dark figure fell into the light out of what looked like nothing more than a dark shadow on the wall. A frown creased Joxin''s lips as he looked at the body. How did it get here?


    He would have noticed one of the creatures sprinting across the chamber to reach the tunnel. Maybe it came from deeper down the tunnel? Or snuck around before I noticed them? Joxin thought, trying to convince.


    Starting to hobble again, Joxin saw some movement to his right at the edges of the chamber where the two tunnels exited. Turning, Joxin saw arms and legs waving in the dim light, like the creatures gathering at the tunnel''s exit were fighting with each other.


    Joxin could only blink in astonishment as the lower half of a creature was thrown into the light before it scrambled back to the dim corner of the room where the rest of its kin were. They''re fighting each other to make someone else be the first to enter the light¡­


    It was a truly selfish desire these creatures displayed. If the creatures didn''t rush forward now when Joxin and the others were still out in the open and spread out, then far more of their brethren would die once their fight entered the confines of the tunnel.


    He could be utterly wrong in his assumption, and every one of those creatures could be a master of the blade¡­ but no. Just no. Joxin could go into all kinds of details he noticed about them, but it would be a waste of time. First impressions and profiling worked for a reason.


    Though Joxin did get something wrong, the next creature would be the sixth to enter the light. But that fact was neither here nor there. Even if the creatures had the numbers to kill the scouts, none of them wanted to be the next to be lying face down on the ground with the bloody shaft of an arrow sticking out of their back, so focusing on them anymore would be pointless.


    "When will there be a better time?" Jim snapped back, appearing next to Joxin, "Either we die and, in the end, you all feel guilty for not believing me, or we live, and everyone will remember this moment along with the fact I was right. It''s a win-win for me."


    "Huh, is that how it''s gonna be?" Joxin replied casually, not a hint of the pain shooting up his leg entering his voice. "You know, you should be constantly checking the shadows for those little fanged bastards. They seem quite stealthy, so you never know when they will jump out of the shado¡ª


    Pivoting to his left and tilting up as his point was proven, Joxin raised his bow and released an arrow while hopping back. A black form was lunging out of a crevice overhead that looked far too small for anything to crawl out of, only to be met with Joxin''s arrow midair and be thrown to the side from the impact.


    The creature''s war cry shifted into one of pain before it abruptly cut off as it landed wrong, breaking its neck. Not that Joxin could talk about keeping one''s balance, as his probably broken ankle had given out from the hop, and he was falling to the side, his arms flailing.


    "I got you," Bellous sent a moment before his hand grabbed a clump of Joxin''s cloak, pulling him out of his fall as he charged past Joxin to help the screaming Jim.


    "Arughhh~!" Jim screamed in a mixture of pain and rage as he drove the pummel of his sword rapidly into the face of the creature clamped onto his forearm. Half of the creature''s head was caved in, and the divot was filled with blood so dark it looked black and had chunks of white sticking out from the sides of the hole, but the creature was still hanging onto Jim''s arm like a starving wolf latched onto its last bone.


    Bellous reached Jim and stepped to the side before hacking the back of the small thing''s neck. At the slash, the last of the life seemed to leave the creature, and it fell to the ground.


    "See," Bellous smugly sent, "all you have to do is put a little force into your blow, and they lose all the fight in them."


    Jim looked blankly at Bellous and then to the caved-in side of the creature''s head, bone chunks clearly visible. Then Jim exploded with annoyance as he said, "You didn''t free shit! You just finished the job that thing started by ripping off the chunk of flesh in its mouth!"


    To prove his point, Jim held up his left arm, where what must be a three-inch wide and two-inch-deep section of this tunic and flesh was missing.


    "Why aren''t you wearing bracers?" Joxin thought into the Union as he saw Jim''s uncovered arms while still making his way to the passage and keeping careful watch around him. He didn''t want a piece of his arm bitten off, after all.


    But his comment immediately drew everyone''s attention just because of the sheer stupidity of it. "You don''t have your bracers on?" Sathera''s mental voice was too neutral and calm, and it sent a shiver of sympathy down Joxin''s spine as he felt Sathera''s attention focused solely on Jim.


    "I was being optimistic," Jim quickly replied, his mental voice becoming enthusiastic like he had just thought of the best argument possible. "Just like you always say! I expected today to be a languid one out in the grass where we sit and relax!"


    "Are you using the fact I frequently say hope for the best and look on the bright side of things as a justification for why you didn''t put on your bracers?" Sathera asked. "Did you forget legion training to always prepare for the worst? Or were you too focused on being comfortable and not having your forearms all sweaty as you sat in the sun all day?"


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    ¡°¡­No," Jim stated with only a hint of pain making it into the mental network, but his word was overflowing with uncertainty. Everyone could already tell that there wasn''t a way out for him, so he tried to change the subject. "But shouldn''t you lot be more concerned about the gaping wound in my arm weeping blood instead of scrutinizing what led us to this point?"


    "Be optimistic¡­" Sathera said sweetly, "It will grow back," then, with a dismissive flick of her hair, after only glancing at the wound, she turned away and moved to take up a position next to the tunnel, looking into the chamber.


    "It''s just a flesh wound," Bellous grunted as he walked into the tunnel and the darkness, eyes fixed forward.


    As Joxin passed him, he flicked a tendril from his hand to sweep over the ground while Jim stared at the other two in betrayal. "You dropped these," Joxin sent to Jim, tossing him the bitten-off chunk of arm and the suntorch. "Maybe the healers can put it back on."


    Jim''s mouth opened and closed a few times as he juggled his chunk of flesh and torch before finally snapping his mouth shut and slipping the meat into a belt pouch. As he started walking, he started muttering about how unfair this was and the blatant lack of concern around here, which everyone ignored.


    Finally getting the point, Jim pulled out a bandage and wrapped up his arm while moving into the passage, with only a few hisses of pain. The best teacher in life was pain and suffering, and if Jim was going to make a stupid mistake, he might as well learn from it. Even if he was right about their being little black creatures running around under our feet.


    Picking up the torch from where he dropped it, Jim joined Joxin in the middle of the group. With Joxin hardly able to walk and Jim down an arm, them being at either end of the formation wasn''t practical anymore.


    "Bellous," Sathera mentally called, "Move back until you are in the light. These creatures have far more advantage in the dark than us."


    "Understood," Bellous replied, and Joxin felt him slow and start to move back to the group from down the tunnel before he added, "Watch your steps. This tunnel isn''t as well crafted as the others, and the floor is uneven."


    But the warning came too late. Jim released a small scream of shock and slammed into Joxin''s back, who was unable to bear the weight on his bad leg, causing them both to fall to the ground. A moment after they hit, the tunnel was thrown into darkness as one or both of them covered the suntorch.


    "What happened to the light?" Sathera immediately snapped before calling out again, "Contact rear!"


    "Get off me," Joxin said, trying to turn and push at Jim as he attempted to disentangle their limbs, but he missed in the darkness.


    As they moved about, beams of light from the torch made it past their bodies, revealing parts of the tunnels¡­ and the creatures crawling out from a crevice overhead.


    "Above us!" Joxin screamed into the network as he wrenched at his bow, trying to pull it free. Unable to budge it from under Jim, Joxin used a third of his psy to form a tendril, which he used to hook into Jim''s harness and toss him to the other side of the passage before raising his bow and removing an arrow from his quiver with the tendril.


    Realizing he would never get the arrow onto the string and draw it in time, Joxin dropped his bow and fumbled at his belt while he drove the arrow up with his tendril.


    The first creature to fall, and perhaps the only brave one of its kind, met his arrow with its neck, which Joxin used as a lever to twist and push the creature back, causing it to land at his feet instead of on his chest.


    At its death, the shrill battle cries of its kin overhead filled the tunnel, blocking out the sound of his clattering bow and Jim''s moans of pain as they pushed off the ceiling.


    Where in the void did they come from? Joxin managed to think before he used his tendril to pick up his bow and knock one of the figures falling toward him into the wall.


    The creature''s hands snapped up, and its body writhed to try to stop or dodge the bow''s impact, but it was pointless. They were the ones who chose to drop helplessly through the air, and avoiding an attack while hanging in the air this close together was near impossible.


    But Joxin didn''t even think that it would be possible for them even if they had the amount of psy of a City Lord, as the only clothing the creatures had on which they could tug on with a tendril were simple loincloths and some threads over their chests that could only be generously call bags. Simply grabbing the clothes with a hand and slightly pulling would tear it off, let alone a tendril that had to move one''s whole weight.


    Speaking of weight, moving Jim and the two creatures had taken its toll on the psy he pushed into the casting, and now it was all but used up. Joxin didn''t have the reserves or willpower to continue being so frivolous, so he dropped the casting to form a new one out of his right hand.


    Joxin wrapped the forming tendril around the hilt of the combat knife clutched in his hand, which he finally had a good grip on. He yanked it free with a jerk of his arm and started rapidly kicking his good leg into the ground. To his amazement, Joxin actually found a ledge in the floor for purchase, allowing him to scoot back a few feet.


    Sitting up at the last moment, Joxin stabbed out with his knife at the chest of the fanged grinning creature falling toward him. While his blade was still sinking into its chest, he twisted his body and flexed his will through the tendril to assist the motion.


    Joxin felt the bones of its ribcage collapse at the sudden force, giving way like a wet bag as if Joxin was hitting the thing with a sledgehammer instead of a standard combat knife.


    Once he was sure the creature would come down at his side instead of on top of him, Joxin bent to the side and nearly spun a one-eighty on his backside to get into position to slash at one of the creatures clawing at Jim.


    "Why am I always the target!" Jim desperately screamed as he flailed out with his knees and elbows at those above him while trying to protect his face and neck. He was doing a pretty good job at it, too, as the creatures screaming and flailing down like wild animals with their dark claws were only rending up his unprotected arms, not anything important. That is, so long as you operated under Jim''s belief that you don''t need bracers while going on patrol.


    Slashing across the ribs of the closest creatures from hip to shoulder, Joxin made the thing scrabble back with a scream of pain.


    Taking the opening, Jim thrust out with his bloody arms, knocking back his other attacker far enough for him to pull his legs to his chest and slam his heels into its collarbone, flinging it back.


    Before either Jim or Joxin could move to finish the two off, a flash of warning burned through the Union, alerting them to more danger.


    Joxin leaned back and threw up his arms to cover his face. A moment later, he felt a burning trail run down his left forearm to his chest as the latest wave of creatures fell onto him. At the same time, the light in the tunnel drastically decreased, filling the tunnel with shadows as something finally covered the suntorch, all but forgotten on the tunnel floor by everyone.


    Slamming his elbow down onto the shoulder of the creature, it let out a squeal of pain from the impact. Taking the distraction, Joxin wrapped his arm around its back and under its arm before it could squirm backward and pulled it tight. As he smashed it to his chest, he pumped his right arm, quickly stabbing his knife into its chest and throat repeatedly.


    After a half dozen stabs, Joxin stopped at the sudden lack of movement and silence filling the tunnel. Slowly letting go of his death grip on the creature and allowing it to slide to the side, Joxin took a second to lay back, panting into the darkness at the sudden exertion and drop of his psy pool. Though he could not see it, Joxin knew he lay face to squat, pain-filled face with the latest creature he killed.


    "Get up and move!" Boomed Sathera''s voice in his mind, startling Joxin out of his slump. "I''m falling back!"


    Fishing into the pile of bodies, some of which were still moving, Joxin, following the glow, grabbed onto the wooden shaft of the torch before pulling it out of the bodies and fully lighting up the tunnel again.


    Seven of the creatures lay bleeding out around Jim and Joxin, with another two farther down the tunnel behind Bellous. Taking a few quick steps forward over the bodies while sheathing his sword, Bellous reached out to Joxin and Jim to get them to their feet.


    "I hate these tunnels," Joxin groaned to himself, taking the offered hand.

 B2 Chapter 55

    Kathren let her head thump against the waist-high railing a moment after her ass hit the roof, the slight pains of the impacts nothing to her. If she was too tired to bother gently lowering her head a few inches, what was a discomfort muffled by the beckoning of sleep? It was her turn to catch what little shuteye she could, and Kathren wouldn''t lose a moment of it by such minor concerns.


    The scent of smoke hung in the air, tainting everything with the harsh notes of rampant destruction. Anyone looking up could tell you smoke was everywhere as it blotted out the sky and caused a constant burn in the eyes, though Kathren doubted anyone in the city could still smell its biting edge.


    She knew that she had become numb to the smell of smoke¡­ A day ago? Two? How long have we been here? She hazily thought.


    A day at least, but more than that, Kathren didn''t know. Honestly, she lost track of the passing hours back at the beginning of all this. And she had long passed the point where she had enough energy to care, and it was the same with the rest of the legionaries.


    It wasn''t entirely their fault. Their lack of noticing the passing of time was a combination of constant fighting and the ruby glow of the fire burning all around them. The firelight reflected off the smoke haze covering the sky, and with the walls and buildings around them, day and night looked practically the same. There had to be a difference, but Kathren was damn if she was going to spend a moment to figure it out.


    The one thing Kathren could still detect was when the air thickened with a particularly strong gust of smoke. It wasn''t that she could smell or see it, but that the scratching burn in the back of her throat and nose flared from mild irritation to a hacking cough.


    Well, she also noticed the strong gusts of smoke when her vision was blocked by the ash swirling around her to the point that if she stuck out an arm, she could watch it collect on her arm hairs like a misting of water and form a new coat in seconds. Kathren couldn''t say which one was the one she was supposed to notice first, but she damn well knew which one she felt first.


    And that was when she had to resist curling over while trying to stop herself from hacking up her last working lung. It was the golden frame through which she was viewing this shit-show of a battle.


    The whole operation was fucked right from the start.


    Their three centuries were meant to raid the dark elves'' compound, while the rest of the legion was supposed to secure the rest of the city. Or that was what Kathren roughly thought the plan was.


    And then the fecken puppets popped out of the woodwork, filling the slums. There must have been whole cohorts of the bastards.


    That wasn''t a joke. Based on their malnourished bodies and threadbare clothing, they were the vagrants filling the slums. Young and old alike, it did not seem to matter to the dark elves. They all marched against the legionaries with their dead eyes.


    The only saving grace was there weren''t any children in their ranks. But were they spared because they were children or because they hadn''t grown to a useful size yet? Kathren didn''t honestly want to know.


    After the poor bastards popped up, things went downhill fast.


    Kathren, the three centuries, and Redgenald, along with his handful of men, were cut off from the legion.


    At first, it didn''t look like that big of a deal. Sure, there were thousands of enemies marching down the street to them, but they had the compound''s outer walls and the sturdy walls of the manor. And that wasn''t anything to scoff at, as the building''s stone-casted walls, both inner and outer, were reinforced beyond what was practical. They were basically sitting in a small fortress.


    The only part they could ask to be better was that the walls, while twelve feet tall and three feet thick, did not have ramparts on them. They were more for privacy from the surrounding roads and buildings than for actual defensive purposes.


    That was their original purpose, at least. If there was one thing a legion prided itself on, no matter the legion or where it was posted, it was how fast they could construct earthworks.


    Even while the puppets pressed against the gates and pounded on the walls to break them, the centurions and their men had already moved into action. One century was holding the gates while one was moving tonnes of dirt from the courtyard against the walls, and the last was ensuring nothing climbed over the walls.


    At the time, everyone thought we only had to hold on for a few hours. Maybe a day. That any minute now, a team of knights would fall from the sky or rise out of the ground and reinforce our position.


    The hope had its first crack when, an hour after the assault started, pillars of fire bloomed within the second ring of Southtown. The crack sent out fissures as the fires within the second ring spread, and the pulse communications the messengers detected became filled with more and more reports of street fighting.


    When night fell, what looked like the entire second ring of Southtown was engulfed in flames, raining down ash and embers onto everything. As the sun''s light faded and was replaced by the light of the burning city, the final hope of timely reinforcements shattered to lay with the rubble of the manor''s outer walls, and everyone had the same thought, "no one was coming to get them."


    As the first day passed, the puppets finally pulled back after hours of trying to force the gates and set about throwing rocks at the manor walls. Apparently, the death count was too high even for them, so the commander wanted more openings from which to attack.


    Without proper engineers to repair the walls, a half dozen gaps had formed over the last hours of the day. Not that the time the puppets spent breaking the walls was wasted by the defenders.


    By the time they were marching in from all sides, Kathren and the legionaries had the advantage as they had formed the fifty yards around the manor into a death trap. Every ten feet of the grounds was alternating between a ditch or a mound of dirt placed in rings. Any length of wood they could find was sharpened into a stake and driven into the ground.


    In the relatively short time they were at the manor, the entire landscape of the grounds had changed. It was amazing what can be done when desperation and need are the driving forces behind a unified people. And as it all happened, Kathren had a perfect view of everything from the manor''s roof.


    While the manor was supposed to be a command center of the dark elves, like Redgenald said, it wasn''t. If anything, Kathren would call it a supply depot. Arrows, bows, spears, swords, shields, and crates of dried food and water filled nearly every room. But most of all, from the basement to the attic, Kathren hadn''t found a single sign of dark elves.


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    Which she wasn''t irked at all about¡­ Yep, totally wasn''t.


    On the one hand, it was a lucky break that they could survive a siege until the legion finally regained control of the city and came for them. But it also meant that whoever was controlling the puppets wanted the building back to arm more of her men.


    As Kathren stood on the roof of the manor, a pile of arrows so large that she would collapse from exhaustion long before she finished shooting them on one side and Redgenald on the other, she stood witness to the onslaught of the puppets.


    The attacks never stopped once they began again, and bodies began filling the grounds as the legionaries were pushed back, reaping a bloody tithe every step of the way.


    Given what they were fighting, the tribune changed the tactics of the centuries. The spears in the manor were passed out, and pike walls were formed to keep the puppets at bay.


    With how poorly armored they were and the general lack of adaptability and reaction time, multiple spearmen could stab then hold a puppet in place while they bled out.


    When the legionaries were falling back from the third earthen berm in the middle of the grounds, the guiding hand behind the puppets'' movements tried to rush her forces forward to overwhelm us. The lines were intermingled, and it looked like the legionaries were about to be cut down, breaking the line.


    But as soon as the danger appeared, it vanished. The puppets'' carefully constructed and choreographed formations fell apart in an all-out attack, allowing the legionaries to hack into their enemies with abandon. They fought as unskilled individuals without regard for anything beyond what lay directly before them.


    The puppets didn''t have the ferocity in their movements to push into the face of death and smash through it. And while their attacks had power to them, they made nothing but a perfunctory effort to guard themselves.


    When the legionary in front of the puppet weathered its blow, one of the legionaries around them would land a fatal attack to the neck or chop off an arm. After all, just because their line was scattered didn''t mean they still weren''t united in the Union.


    With the number of puppets pressing forward, they would have eventually overrun the defenses. But the bodies were mounting several times faster than a moment before, and the slope they were climbing became a bloody slurry, further impeding their assault.


    After a desperate handful of minutes, the puppet''s commander must have deemed the losses too significant for the meager gains they were getting. After all, even if the legionary''s line broke in a few places, enough would be able to make it back to the manor to mount a proper defense, making the result the same.


    Getting to that point faster but with more losses could actually be said to help the legionaries, at least in terms of the legion as a whole, if not the three centuries. If the dark elves wanted to take this manor back and stomp Kathren and the others out, they would have to do it over a mountain of bodies.


    So began the grind.


    The legionaries would fight to the last breath and try to take their killers with them if possible, but they were only human. Their willpower will eventually flag, making casting impossible. Their bodies will ultimately give out from exhaustion, leaving them unable to move as they watch in impotent rage when a sword is driven into their chests.


    The dirty vagrants making up the puppets had no such mortal limitations after what had been done to them, or at least none that had been reached yet.


    They hit the shields of the legionaries and pushed until the legionaries were forced to take a step back.


    Kathren''s fingers were long past raw by the time the second ring''s inferno lit up the city. Her back felt like one giant knot as every motion threatened to spark a cramp. Sweat made streaks in the ash covering her body while her chest heaved for fresh air to quench the embers smoldering in her chest.


    But no matter how many arrows she and the others shot into the mass of flesh, the centuries were pushed back.


    Initially, the losses were minimal, but exhaustion quickly built in those on the front lines, as the reserves were limited. There wasn''t enough time for a proper rest away from the fighting before they were rotated in again. By the third rotation, which was hours ago, spots of red and black could be seen splattered amongst the dead. And things only got worse.


    As the death toll mounted, the perimeter of their lines shrunk. Until they reached now, where all they held was the manor itself.


    Bodies blanketed every inch of the earth inside the broken walls.


    There were no cries of the wounded begging anything for help as the puppets executed any wounded legionary that twitched. And the puppets themselves didn''t stop fighting until the mercy of death was brought to them.


    From the three hundred legionaries they started out with that day, only a hundred-forty-seven lived to find refuge in the manor, and thirty of those were sent back during the earlier fighting as they were too wounded to continue fighting. Every one of them was near to complete exhaustion, sporting at least one gash on their body.


    Since then, things have slowed down, but it has been causing more fatigue as people need at least some time to rest. Attacks were launched against the barricaded windows and doors, but they were easily beaten back within the chokepoints.


    But the attacks weren''t the issue.


    With a consistency that could match that of an hourglass, the puppets would form up for an attack every half an hour. Sometimes, they would stand in place for minutes before dispersing. Most of the time, they marched halfway to the manor before turning back. And on rare occasions, they would probe the defenses again.


    The stress of an impending attack was ever present, and rest could only be gotten in what felt like quick blinks of the eye before the next attack or taunt happened. There were just enough actual assaults that everyone was forced to awaken, just on the off chance that this would be an all-out attack to breach their defenses instead of another probe.


    If there was any bright side, it was that they had yet to see any more archers. However, their lack of a presence did raise its own concerns, not that anyone bothered to ask where they were lest they suddenly pop up.


    Time bled together, and everyone was near the breaking point.


    The only thing keeping them going was the signs of battle around them. All they had to do was hold out.


    Most of the fires in the second ring had gone out, and new ones in the third ring were flaring with life to take their place.


    "Time to get¡­ up, darling," said a halting, slightly scratchy voice, trying to be soothing next to her ear.


    Kathren''s eyes cracked open, uncertain of when they closed, and her head slightly turned to meet Redgenal''s wry grin. "You didn''t slash¡­ at me this¡­ time."


    "Too much effort," Kathryn groaned, turning her head away like she was trying to soothe the knots in her back and sheathing her knife but really to hide any slight blush making it to her cheeks. She couldn''t remember the last time someone had woken her up without her lashing out. "Another attack?"


    The irritating man chuckled with a knowing amusement in his voice, but he let the subject drop. Which was lucky for him because Kathren wouldn''t be surprised if an arrow accidentally found its tip sliding over the skin of his arm in all this confusion if he kept it up. It could also be his cheek, but¡­ It would be too much of a shame if it was marred with a blemish. Though it could also give him a certain air of¡ª What am I thinking? Who would care about that!


    Grabbing her bow and an arrow to be ready, Kathren watched the man from the corner of her half-lidded eyes.


    "They are¡­ forming up again," he said, but there was a hesitation in his voice, "but something¡­ feels different¡­ this time. I can''t sa¡ª


    He cut off as his head snapped to the stairs leading to the roof, his jaw clenching as his face fell into a hard mask.


    The sweet whispers of sleep were driven from Kathren''s mind as she saw the sudden shift in his emotion, and adrenaline prickled across her body. Before she could blink, she found herself in a half crouch, her head positioned to watch Redgenald and the direction he was looking while also keeping an eye over the rim of the roof''s railing.


    Kathren didn''t press him, as she had learned to trust his instincts over the course of this battle. He would tell her what he felt when he was confident about it. Until then, saying anything would only serve to distract him.


    After a few seconds that felt like hours as Kathren''s eyes darted to every shadow, her ears strained to hear the drop of a pin, Redgenald turned to her, saying in a hushed whisper so only she could hear, "I felt¡­ a subtle pulse message¡­ coming from below."


    Kathren opened her mouth to say that something was distorting and blocking all pulse messages for what must be over a day, so no one should be sending out pulses, only for it to snap shut as her stomach dropped to her feet when she realized what he meant.


    "Ahh~, fuck me.¡±

 B2 Chapter 56

    Kathren''s eyes swept over the score of archers on the rooftop, ignoring the mild irritation from her eyes as it felt like they were grinding against ash somehow plastered on the inside of her eyelids. Her hand didn''t so much as twitch in an attempt to raise and rub at the irritants. Kathren knew from way too much experience recently that any action would only make it feel worse, but the real reason was she didn''t have the energy to notice all of the different discomforts she felt at this point.


    The archers lucky enough to be on the ground were stirring from their near comas as those on watch kicked out to wake them. It was the right call. Bending over while resisting the oh-so-sweet sirens song of the ground took a monumental effort of willpower, and it was in short enough supply already that wasting it was stupid.


    Well, that wasn''t exactly right. Everyone was calling them archers, but people would only call the majority of those up here archers when they are trying to insult anyone who actually makes their living with the bow. There was very little skill up here.


    Really, Kathren made half the people up here look bad, and the rest were around her level. The only one who deserved the title of archer, much to Kathren''s annoyance, was Redgenald.


    All of his arrows, even after the¡­ it would be thousands of arrows by now, right? It had to be. My hands weren''t this raw after my weeks of practice as I learned to shoot.


    If raw was even the right word. Having a blood-stained bow string and her hands that felt like they were more broken blisters and weeping wounds than flesh wasn''t being done justice with the word "raw."


    It wasn''t just her either, as it was becoming popular to toss aside the bow and gather large rocks to drop. But they only had so many large stones and so much strength to collect them, while they had what felt like an endless supply of arrows.


    Anyway, however many shots Redgenald made over the last couple of horrible days, he was still hitting where he wanted. The best Kathren could say about her shots was that they usually landed in the mass of animated flesh marching toward them.


    Not that you needed much skill to stand up and shoot down, but it was nice to know that she provided more to the battle than a distraction, as she typically didn''t go more than six draws before an arrow thudded home in flesh. But even if her shots were only deflected by the attacker shields like some of the others, they were serving as a necessary obstacle.


    Their attacks slowed down the attackers, as the puppets had to move in formation. And it made whoever commanded them choose whether to block attacks from above or on the ground, opening up gaps in their defense.


    Which was the source of her current problem.


    If she called out that an attack was about to be launched from below their feet, then everyone up here might all throw down their weapons as they go to "help" their comrades. An act that would be like opening your arms wide for an embrace and inviting your enemies to march their swords into your chest. Why should she do anything to make the enemy''s advance easier.


    That is assuming that they even believed Redgenald had sensed anything and acted on the information in a timely manner. Which was far from guaranteed. And it''s not like she could give them orders, as she technically wasn''t in their chain of command.


    Kathren never thought she would be annoyed at the nebulous place in a legion a scout maintained.


    As for sending a pulse, if it even got through, it would alert everyone, including the attackers, of the assumed threat, which could, again, cause a panic. And maybe just cause their attackers to launch an attack early before defenders could get into position, wasting their chance.


    The Union wasn''t an option, as the network once linking the centuries together had long since collapsed. The disruption that was affecting their pulses put pressure on the Union, making it cost more psy to maintain. After they fell back to the manor, there just wasn''t enough psy or need to justify the expenditure of maintaining it.


    Everyone knew they had to defend their area, and if they were about to be overrun, a shout or runner would work just as well as a pulse.


    Which left¡­ turning to Redgenald, who had a mischievous smile that she ignored, she nodded her head to the stairs. They had to go together.


    Kathren didn''t sense anything, so she wasn''t credible. And Redgenald wasn''t a legionary or the most loved at the moment by the Tribune, so it was likely he wouldn''t be able to get to the man and make a report.


    Then again, she was sitting in the same boat right along with Redgenald. The worst part was she couldn''t bitch about it, as the opinion wasn''t totally misplaced. No matter their intentions or orders, they were the ones that led them to this manor, which ended up being nothing but a supply base they were now trapped in.


    The only reason everyone didn''t already consider him and his men a traitor was that Redgenald was sticking right with them after they all fell into the latrine. But even now, the thought was in the back of everyone''s mind.


    Kathren had to remind quite a few men that he didn''t have a reason to remain here at their point if he wasn''t on their side. They were trapped, and he could have slipped away at any time.


    What Kathren said was perfectly logical, but no one had to explain to her that emotions were fickle things. She was well aware that at any moment, the legionaries could easily decide to kill all the traitors as retaliation for getting them into such a situation.


    If a respected centurion or tribune with morals wasn''t nearby to stop the men, it could easily happen in the midst of a desperate situation. There were stories of it happening in the past for less than this.


    On the other hand, slipping into the puppet''s ranks when none of the defenders were looking would be as easy as a brief fall and a quick sprint through a field of bodies. It was something he and his gang could have done if they wanted to. Or, that was another of Kathren''s arguments for keeping him alive.


    Though, now that she thought about it, it could be the tribune''s point in putting Redgenald and his men up here was that he hoped they would sneak away. It would rid him of one potential problem if they did, and if they didn''t, it would be proof they had the chance. That seemed like something a good leader would do.


    Standing to her full height, Kathren turned and pried open her right hand, making a disturbingly loud ripping sound as the dried blood was pilled off the wood. She stepped away without looking back as the cursed wood stick clattered on the ground.


    It might look like she was just leaving behind a bloody stick, but the reality was different. She was also leaving what felt like the top four layers of her left hand and right forearm, along with more than a few drops of blood.


    But she was taking with her a burning hatred for the bow and a new desire to do anything to avoid shooting another arrow¡­ So there was that.


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    Oh, and getting away from the constant threat of archers on the surrounding buildings is good, Kathren thought. It wasn''t like the threat was realized at any point after the initial attack, as no more archers had shown up, but the danger was still there, constantly handing over their heads. Which was annoying. Though it did make one wonder where they all went.


    With the sudden noise, many on the rooftop glanced over at them, but only the Optio in command of the rooftop so much as opened his mouth to call out to stop them. "Hey, wh¡ª" a decision he quickly rethought after Kathren leveled a glare and threatening shake of her head at him.


    Maybe he decided to give them the benefit of the doubt that they had something important to do and weren''t just running from combat. Or it could have been that Kathren''s glare contained her focused, searing disdain at the thought of picking up the weapon that shall not be spoken of, and should he believe he had the authority to order her to use it again, he would be the object of her immediate vengeance.


    It was probably a combination of both.


    ¡°¡ªAhem!" The not-at-all-intimidated Opito''s rough cough sounded, getting everyone''s attention, "Why are you still lying on your asses? Get up and take your positions!"


    During Kathren''s little interchange, she noticed that Redgenald made a complicated series of hand signs to the wiry knife man with a pile of head-sized stones next to him, getting a nod in reply but choosing to ignore it. The man was one of his men. She had no right to question him about mysterious messages.


    An opinion she kept all the way up until he caught up with her a few feet from the stairs entrance before she casually asked, "So, what did you tell him?"


    Redgenald gave her an amused and easygoing glance like she hadn''t just tried to call him out on delivering a secret message to one of his gang. "Nothing special," he rasped as his throat was also torn up from the smoke, ¡°just¡­ to keep an¡­ eye peeled. And to come¡­ should I call."


    "To desert his post." Kathren pointed out.


    "Not a posting¡­ if you''re not¡­ in the legion. Besides¡­ he''s wasted¡­ up here." By the end, his voice turned grave and confident as he spoke.


    "The Tribune doesn''t trust you," Kathren pointed out, then threw one last glance around, looking at the burning town before stepping down into the shadows of the house as if to mirror her environment with the dark twist her tone took. "And given the extent the dark elves infiltrated our city, there are more than a few traitors within our midsts."


    "True," Redgenald agreed, his casual tone taking on a bit of a forced edge like he was trying to ignore Kathren''s mood shift or darker thoughts of his own. "he has¡­ good reasons¡­ but I do not¡­ go back¡­ on my word. And I do not¡­ intend to die¡­ here, how else¡­ can I take¡­ you to dinner."


    Kathren nearly stumbled down the flight of stairs as she heard his comment about taking her out to dinner thrown out so casually. But even as her foot was slipping out from under her and she could fall more than a few inches, a strong band slipped around her waist, pulling her back and up into his broad, hard chest.


    She felt his head move next to her, his lips close enough to her ear she could feel his voice brushing against her skin as he rasped, "Are you okay?" then, after a moment, amusement filled his voice as he said, "Or is this¡­ an invitation¡­ to take you up¡­ on your offer?"


    Freezing like a mountain lion had suddenly closed its jaws around her neck, Kathren''s mind emptied of everything but three words. Her mind was locked on what she said a minute ago when he first told her of the attack.


    Time slowed for Kathren, and the moment between the frantic beats of her heart stretched until it felt like an eternity had passed. Then Kathren felt Redgenald''s chest swell against her back as he sucked in a long breath threw his nose. Like that motion was the dropping of a flag for a race, Kathren smacked his wrist with the palm of her hand and slipped out of his embrace quickly stepping down the stairs.


    "Oh?" Kathren sang, her voice airy as she tried to sound casual as if nothing important had happened, "And you think this is the time to be talking about going out to dinner and having fun?"


    Instead of a flippant response like she expected, Redgenald''s voice turned serious. "When things look¡­ the bleakest¡­ it is the¡­ best time to¡­ look for a light. People fight harder¡­ when they have¡­ something to return to." Then his tone shifted into the lackadaisical attitude she expected, "And if¡­ spending the night¡­ with me makes¡­ you fight harder¡­ to live¡­ I can not say¡­ I am not flattered."


    Snorting, Kathren didn''t deign to respond to that last comment, and the two fell into a companionable silence. They soon entered the third floor, quickly passing the old bedrooms filled with weapons as they briskly walked to the main flight of stairs. In the silence that heralded the coming battle, the only thumps were their footsteps on the matted and stained carpet.


    Down the staircase to the second floor, they walked around the banister for the landing until they stood at the top of the flight of stairs. With every step they took, Kathren''s heart dropped a little lower.


    Her hands might have felt like she walked up to a lit stove and held them against the steel until her flesh was blistering and melting together, but that was her only real complaint. Hardly anyone on the rooftop had a real injury.


    Streaks and splatters of blood and gore were painted on every surface on the first floor. If it was from an enemy or ally, Kathren couldn''t say for sure.


    Legionaries were sprawled against every wall, blood-stained bandages of torn cloth covering multiple parts of their bodies. A fear that everyone was already dead and they were just waiting to be overwhelmed exploded to fill Kathren''s mind.


    Then, as if they were waiting for her fear to be realized, she saw the slow-moving chests a moment after she felt many of the legionaries harmonizing their rumbling snores of sleep.


    But not all. Those against the wall closest to her had the unmistakable pallor and stillness of the dead.


    Moving her eyes away from the dead after a moment of acknowledgment, she looked to the outer wall. The front door was blocked by a bookshelf tipped on its side and a desk with the rubble of broken walls piled around the obstacle. In the line where the large double doors would meet, a hand was driven onto a spear facing out, its middle finger up, as a challenge to their emotionless enemies.


    Kathren didn''t know how long they could keep up the defiance, but she did feel a certain savage pride that they were still fighting at the sight of the appendage. And she had no doubt that the hand belonged to a legionary, who drove his own severed hand onto a spear to better show it off to their foe.


    "I''m giving the lads a few more moments of sleep before the next bout." Snapping her head to the side, Kathren followed the hoarse, grating voice, spotting a centurion lounging in a chair placed a few feet from the bodies that she had missed while focusing on the dead. He brought his short pipe to his mouth, took a puff, and slowly blew out the smoke, a brief moment of bliss in this hell passing over his face before his hard eyes settled on them again, the air of authority slamming down onto him as he spoke, "Shoddy they might be, but I doubt you''ve run out of arrows yet¡ª Heh~, never thought I would be saying that during a battle. So why you two down here?"


    "I have an urgent report for the Tribune, Centurion¡­" Kathren said, leaving the last bit hanging, waiting for a response.


    "Borment," He stated, then the Centurion flicked his hand to the side, motioning down the hallway to his right, "Down in the cellar with the rest of the gravely wounded. The old fool took a sword to the chest, trying to act like a young man a fourth his age, and he''s now hacking out blood every other breath. I guess I''m in command now. So I ask again, why you two down here?"


    Kathren took in the news without any reaction. It wasn''t that she was expecting it or anything, but so much had gone to shit lately; what was one more thing? Getting worked up took energy she didn''t have, so accepting and recalculating the plan was the most sympathy she could dredge up at the moment.


    Tilting her head to Redgenald, Kathren said, "Our local gang leader here says he detected a signal pulse from below us. I''m inclined to believe him."


    The Centurion''s eyes narrowed at Redgenald, his short, stocky pipe slightly quivering as it was clamped in his teeth. Kathren felt a slight vibration in their air as some casting passed next to her, connecting with Reginald. "You sure, boy?"


    Redgenald simply said, "Yes."


    Accepting the statement with a sharp nod, the Centurion plucked his pipe from his mouth and popped to his feet. "Rise and shine, lads! There''s no more time to laze about; we have to earn our coin today!" His roar filled the first floor and, no doubt, traveled out into the surrounding grounds quite a ways.


    Like they were pulled up by strings, the legionaries were clambering to their feet, some of them without their eyes opened yet. It was as if their bodies were reacting without any conscious control on their part. But, to a one, they were all clutching weapons in their hands they couldn''t put down, even in sleep, as if they had spent so much time with the weapons they were now physically attached to them.


    "Kormarat! Bring you squa¡ª


    As if he was the arrow on the string of a bow, Redgenald tensed on the stairs next to Kathren, facing the hallway Borment gestured to earlier, a sword appearing in one hand and a dagger in the other. Looking at him in surprise, she reached out to him as if to reassure him but changed where her hand was going mid-gesture as she heard his words. "There was¡­ another pulse message."


    Grabbing and drawing her sword, Kathren¡¯s body tensed for a fight as she searched the shadows.

 B2 Chapter 57

    Kathren felt her heart skip a beat at Redgenald''s pronouncement as their reality crashed down on her. They had run out of time.


    Then, Centurion Borment''s voice bellowed out, scattering the sudden tension like it didn''t exist while giving a path for everyone to follow. "Kormarat, get your squad on my ass right now! You two, follow me! Everyone else, hold your positions and watch your brothers'' backs in case some of the bastards get by us! This is gonna be a rough one, boys, but I have faith we''ll make it!"


    There was some confusion on the faces of the legionaries as Centurion Borment turned and headed deeper into the manor, but the uncertain emotions quickly passed. They knew their jobs were to stand in place and hold the line, and that was all they needed to know. Let those of a higher rank worry about the other details. All they should be caring about is avoiding the shame and consequences that would come down on their heads if they were found to be the weakest link in the defenses.


    If things continued as they were, some detachment in the manor would inevitably be the first to be pushed back from their windows, doors, or gaping holes in the wall and break the defensive line. It was only a matter of time. But Kathren could only pity these men directly under the centurion''s command if they were the first to be pushed back. It didn''t matter if they held one of the most demanding positions, had a third of their force just taken away, and no longer had their commander to lead them.


    Those all sounded like excuses to her, and as every centurion would tell you, excuses only existed as failed opportunities to prove your dedication, problem-solving abilities, and martial skills to the legion. And such failures were obviously due to a lack of training.


    The crackling rips of Centurion Borment''s steadfast footsteps filled the blood-stained foyer. As Kathren watched his back move away, she could imagine that even if they had to walk over a mountain and drown it in blood along the way, she could trust that figure to lead them over it and return home. Or, at the very least, give her the opportunity to jam her knife into the eye of their foe. Sometimes, hurting an enemy was all you could ask for.


    Before he could take more than four steps, his men squeezed their weapons as their resolve built, causing audible creaks of leather and wood in the room. Shouts drowned out the other noise in the room as the men jumped to follow Borment''s orders. Suddenly, all Kathren could hear were the stomps of footsteps hitting the wood floor and the creaking of armor and clanking of steel as men moved to the hallway after their leader or manned their posts.


    Stepping off from her perch with Redgenald, they turned away from the outside world and followed after the group. As they moved into the hallway and the legionaries fell into a marching rhythm, a couple lanterns leading the way, Kathren noticed they were following a crimson trail.


    It wasn''t that the dead lined the passage, their life''s blood spilling onto and staining the wood. No, it was dozens, if not hundreds, of crimson footprints layered upon each other.


    Those who were wounded beyond the ability to fight, their lives slowly dripping out of them, were moved down this passage. And whether it was their own or the soles of those helping them move, their boots imprinted themselves in the blood.


    Kathren found it a rather appropriate symbol, if unhygienic. These legionaries were literally willing to walk through blood for their brothers. There wasn''t much more you could ask from the person standing beside you in a shield wall.


    With the path marked so well, there was no need for anyone to issue commands, and as a result, the only sound was the thuds of feet falling and a ripping squelch as they were pulled back up.


    As the group rounded the last corner, they saw five men, three spearmen and two swordsmen, their weapons drawn, guarding the passage halfway down its length. Kathren could see their shoulders droop in relief as what they must have feared was the sound of advancing puppets was proven to be Legionaries.


    The moment Centurion Borment''s eyes landed on the men and their unwitting situation, he thundered, "Legionaries, enemy rear!" As he was anticipating an attack at any moment.


    Kathren could see in their eyes that their bodies were moving before their minds processed the command. But even that instant response was already too late because the enemy was already in motion.


    The hallway continued past the group blocking it, leading to another section of the manor, but that wasn''t where the threat came from. It was the door a couple feet to the five legionaries'' backs, bursting apart, that signaled the start of the fight.


    The legionaries were nearing the end of their turn at that moment, their spears lowering in unison, but their formation shattered as they stumbled back a step and turned their heads to the sides on instinct when the door splinters peppered them. In that critical moment, two figures in dark cloaks came out of the doorway, sliding along the length of the spear shafts.


    The arms of the two black figures slashed out, their hands holding black knives that seemed to shimmer like a pool of dark water when exposed to the light. After the flashing darkness of the attacks, two of the three spearmen dropped their weapons and started to slowly fall to the ground as they clutched at their necks in an attempt to hold in their lifeblood.


    Before his comrades had started to crumple, the third and furthest to the left, and thus furthest from the door, spearman had recognized his primary weapon was now useless. He dropped his spear and started stepping back to create distance from the attackers while his hands went to his belt.


    A moment before his hands had reached his waist, the closest cloaked figure had continued with his momentum while slightly stepping to the side to arrive next to the man. With a casual grace as if it was a motion he had performed a thousand times, the cloaked figure lashed out with their right arm, slicing open the legionary''s throat without slowing.


    The crimson blood of the soon-to-be-dead man sprayed across the hallway, splattering against the wall, but his face twisted with a determined, vindictive snarl. The figure was moving to step past the legionary, assuming he would collapse to the ground as he focused on the meaningless task of holding in his life for one more second like the others.


    That assumption was wrong. The legionary already knew he was dead, and he wasn''t planning on dying alone. Whipping out his seven-inch legion knife, the man fully extended his arm before curling it around the other body to drive it up and into the figure''s chest with his right arm.


    With a roar of effort, the legionary twisted the knife and gouged it down, ripping open the black-cloaked figure''s stomach and spilling his entrails onto the floor. A high-pitched screech of primal pain, like an animal trapped at the bottom of a spike pit, originated from the depths of the figure''s hood as they turned and lashed at with a retaliatory attack for the legionary''s audacity.


    One of the cloaked figure''s knives came up from his hip and drove through the legionary''s leather brigandine chest piece before the blade''s hilt bottomed out, and the cloaked figure used the leverage to force the legionary into the wall. The figure''s other hand slashed across the legionary''s neck, severing everything but the smallest piece of skin behind the spine. Even as the man''s head flopped to the side in death, the figure continued to hack and stab at the legionary''s upper body, but they couldn''t remove the satisfied smile curling his lips.


    After a fifth rapid strike, the knives fell from the cloaked figure''s hands, and they collapsed to the floor, quickly followed by the legionary''s body.


    As the two were killing each other, the other cloaked figure moved forward and engaged the swordsmen. They had danced in place with a rapid series of half lunges and feints for a couple seconds, but that all ended when the screech of the cloaked figure''s dying companion distracted him for an instant.


    Recognizing that they were so far outmatched that they were only being toyed with like a child, one of the legionaries took that moment to lunge forward, wrapping up the cloaked figure with his arms and trapping them.


    The black figure was able to break the hold of the legionary in an instant, but he was held in place for the moment the second swordsman needed to sheath his sword into the chest of the trapped figure. Even as the legionary was pulling his sword out and moving to hack at the figure''s neck, one of the cloaked figure''s hands lashed out, impacting their retreating captor before falling to the ground with the second blow.


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    Staggering backward, the first swordsman turned so that he hit a wall and slumped down it. The legionary breathed heavily, his face pale as he clutched at the knife sticking out of his gut.


    Even with a tunnel in their chest and a slash in the neck, the cloaked figure was fumbling over his body as if searching for another weapon. It was as if they thought they could still get up and kill them all. A delusion the second swordsman was happy to leave them with as he moved to check on his friend.


    Finally getting into range of the short and brutal fight, Kathren brought an end to the cloaked figure''s futile effort by bringing one of her spikes down into their head, throwing back their hood at the impact as the weapon caved in their skull.


    Gasps of surprise sounded in the hallway as the legionaries finally got a look at the dark elf man, but Kathren simply moved past the body, a tendril lashing out of her hand to slip through the loop at the base of the spike''s hilt. As soon as she saw the black full-body cloaks, she knew who and what they were. Seeing it again didn''t matter.


    One of the reinforcing legionaries moved to check on the wounded man and his friend while Kathren, Redgenald, and Centurion Broment moved to the top of the stairs, the rest of the legionaries close behind, radiating a cold rage as they moved past their dead.


    As she moved to poke her head around the door, Kathren felt and accepted an invitation to a Union, immediately feeling a warning from Redgenald of all people to be careful. Which was a rather annoying message.


    Kathren was already moving silently and taking a moment to listen and hear at the edge of the door before poking her head around the frame and looking into the stairwell. How much more careful could she really be?


    Not hearing anything, Kathren moved forward, only to instantly jerk back and swing two spikes around the corner at chest height. A blade chipped the wood of the doorframe where her head was a moment before, slicing off the clump of her hair that got caught between the blade''s edge and the wood.


    Heart thumping at how close she came to having her brains bashed in, Kathren couldn''t stop a pleased smile from spreading over her lips as she heard a grunt of pain a moment after a chink of impacting steel sounded.


    Redgenald stepped past her as she pulled back, rounding the frame of the door, sword in hand. Instead of lashing out with his weapon, which might not make it through the chainmail the distracted dark elf was wearing, he leaned back and put his body behind a heel kick before he moved to the side, regaining his balance.


    Though she could not see the events with her own eyes, she and everyone else saw the scene play out through the Union. However, Kathren didn''t even need to look at the images Redgenald sent to know everything was going as he wanted, as she only needed to feel the smug air coming off him.


    She still looked at them anyway, but she didn''t need to.


    The dark elf, who almost cracked her head open, was kicked off his feet when Redgenald''s foot landed in his upper chest, his face twisting with shock as he looked up. As he was pushed back, it looked like the dark elf''s arms and legs remained rooted in place until they were forced to follow along by his torso.


    As the dark elf''s face twisted from shock to outrage, Kathren couldn''t stop a quiet snicker of amusement from coming out. The stupid elf deserved everything that happened to him.


    Instead of tumbling all the way down the stairs, the man didn''t go more than a couple feet before he hit the upper body of the next dark elf in line. From there, things progressed as you would imagine. Kathren could clearly hear the sounds of the four dark elves'' grunts and bangs as they started tumbling over each other down the stairs. With every sound, her smile twisted, becoming more vicious until it became little more than a baring of her teeth.


    Brushing past Redgenald while he was still recovering from his kick, Centurion Borment charged down the stairs, a roar of challenge thrumming his throat. On his heels, with not a waiver of doubt in their minds, the legionaries followed into the welcoming depths of the basement.


    The first dark elf on the stairs the centurion met was trying to raise what looked like a long knife more than a sword in a mixture of a threat and a challenge, but it was less than intimidating. The elf was lying with his head lower than his feet on the stairs, and the blade was wildly wavering in the air as if he couldn''t muster the focus to hold it steady.


    With a simple swipe of his shield, Borment knocked the weapon and hand of the dark elf to the side without even bothering to finish him off as he continued down the steps. It was the third legionary in the charge who was the one to drive his blade into the gap between his neck and shoulder before he could get his long knife into position to pose a threat to anyone again.


    Borment continued down the stairs, smashing his sword''s pummel into the back of the head of a dark elf who was pushing himself to all fours before he had the chance to look up, causing a sharp crack of breaking bone and making the man crumple.


    Then, with a leap, he smashed into the side of the next elf as he was getting his feet under him, and before he could raise his narrow sword with a weird half-circle pommel.


    Bouncing back from the impact, Centurion Borment''s backside thudded onto a step. Even though he was disorientated from the impacts, the centurion was able to pull his body to the side enough to allow the following legionaries to charge past him to attack the once again tumbling dark elves.


    With a clammer of feet quickly beating against the stairs, the first two legionaries covered the last steps of the staircase before dashing the short distance to where the two dark elves landed. With quick, brutal hacks, the throats of the dark elves were split open, pouring blood onto the floor. As the two stood over the bodies, a third legionary moved to take up guard between them, scanning the room.


    Kathren, from where she was following Redgenald at the back of the line, felt a spike of impotent fury laced with fear shoot through the mental network from the third legionary to reach the cellar. Borment demanded the man report in response to the intense feelings, but it was unnecessary. An image of short black-skinned creatures holding what looked like small bows turned on their sides was already burning its way into everyone''s mind.


    Then, there was a loud reverberating twang, and the three legionaries in the cellar were thrown off their feet. The men landed at the base of the stairs face up, hovering a few inches off the ground, as the arrows had gone so deep that the tips poking out the legionaries back were enough to make a platform.


    Fear filled the network at the power of the creature''s weapons, but Centurion Borment''s iron willpower urged the legionaries forward even as they were freezing. "Move your asses, lads!" Borment''s mental voice boomed, "Before they can get another volley off, charge!"


    Instead of freezing in place and resigning themself to being cut down one at a time as they exited the stairwell, the legionaries appeared to jitter in place before they charged forward with a roar. Though the fear still remained, screaming it into the faces of their enemy helped them move forward, embracing the ideal of victory or death.


    Kathren''s ears rang from the collective shouts, and her abused throat felt like it was being ripped apart as she joined in on the battlecry, stomping forward.


    As her feet touched upon the stairs'' landing, she saw the creatures with her own eyes. Hunched and covered with cloth that was only a few frayed edges from being moved over the border of being called clothing into the category of rags. But her eyes were drawn over their black skin to the grinning fang-filled mouths of the beings.


    Kathren saw the vicious glee in their black eyes at killing the three legionaries shift to apprehension as they witnessed the legionaries rushing forward. The apprehension started shifting to fear and confusion as they just couldn''t understand why the legionaries were still attacking.


    Centurion Borment led the charge, his voice carrying over the chaos filling the room. "Cut the bastards down, boys! Let none live!" The nine people following behind him shouted their agreement as they pumped their legs with abandon to close the distance.


    Most of the creatures looked like their heads were convulsing between the legionaries'' charge and where they were trying to pull on the string of their weird bows. A few of the creatures had pulled the string all the way back, locking it in place, but none of the twenty creatures could place the shaft of an arrow onto the sting before their death arrived.


    Centurion Borment loomed above the creature at the center of their formation as it frantically tried to raise its weapon and put a shaft against the string simultaneously, doing neither well. Before the creature could pose a threat, Borment thrust his sword forward and up, almost like an uppercut, as he effortlessly parted the creature''s clothes and chest.


    Lifting the small creature from the ground, the centurion held it above his head before flinging his arm to the side and throwing the creature off his blade into more of its kind. Turning, he hacked down, nearly chopping another of the creatures in half.


    When the rest of the legionaries hit their line, each following the centurion''s example, the creatures broke. Fear overwhelmed their thoughts as they dropped their weapons and scrambled to get away from their butcher.


    But Kathren would have none of that as she darted forward, ignoring the twinges of pain in her knee, slipping into the wild melee. With her spikes spinning around her, Kathren drove them into the legs of the creatures to slow them down, sometimes puncturing all the way through their limbs before she switched to another target.


    At the same time, Kathren lashed out with her sword at anything around her. She might not have killed many of them, but she left quite a few lying helpless and waiting for another legionary to finish them off.


    With the overwhelming ferocity of their charge, the legionaries tore through the creatures, creating a score of bodies around them in a matter of seconds.


    Her chest heaving from the sudden exertion, Kathren started to look around and noticed racks holding barrels and crates farther into the cellar. More than that, she noticed bodies.


    It was the bodies of the dozens of wounded legionaries they thought were being sheltered here safely. Some had their throats slit, while others had their chests punctured with multiple shafts of those weird bows.


    A fresh wave of wrath began to build within the Union, only for a silky voice to cut through the emotion, sending a shiver of instinctual fear down everyone''s spine, ¡°Well¡­ that is unfortunate.¡±

 B2 Chapter 58

    "Do you have any idea how much effort it takes to instill discipline in goblins?" The silky voice continued after a momentary pause where it released a long, exasperated breath, draping itself over the room. Then, a steady clicking, like two stones knocking together, sounded from the shadows deeper in the cellar.


    "Heh, neither do I, if I was to be honest. And we should be honest amongst friends, should we not?" It might have been her imagination, but Kathtren felt a slight twinge in her temples before it felt like she was suddenly wrapped in a warm blanket. Stumbling and replanting her feet, Kathren found she had leaned forward slightly too far and that her head was nodding along with the woman''s compelling words, "I have, however, overheard the males complaining about it. I gather it to be quite the hassle. Convincing the males to train more in a timely manner will have quite a high cost for me¡­ I might even have to motivate them by sleeping with one, although I would enjoy disciplining them more. But sadly, the mushroom often achieves more than the lash, and such are the pains that come with command."


    Kathren felt slightly guilty as the woman finished speaking. It was indeed quite unfortunate that she and the others killed the goblins, as it placed such a burden on another. I could offer my help in training replacements. It can''t be that¡­ Wait, what¡­


    In annoyance, Kathren moved her eye to the movement she noticed to the side of the room, distracting her from the seductive voice. At the edges of the light cast from the lanterns placed among the dead bodies around the door, she could just make out large racks for wine barrels. And from among those aisles, small figures were creeping forward with silent steps.


    She sent a spike of fear and warning of the new enemies shooting into the Union from long habit and training, which Centurion Borment acknowledged, but it felt muffled and a beat late. But that is because of the interference¡­ A voice whispered in her head.


    It was possible, probably even, but that was no reason to be sloppy and invite death. Focusing her distracted mind, Kathren noticed that her sword and spikes had lowered and were now practically hanging at her side.


    Raising her weapons back into position, she tried to focus on any approaching threats, only for the clacking filling the chamber to grow louder in her ears, dragging her attention from her sides to straight ahead. With a burst of understanding, she realized that the clacking was the footsteps of the woman slowly walking into the light.


    As the shadows slipped from the woman''s figure like the hands of an old lover, the curves of her waist and chest could be seen. Her body was hugged by a form-fitting violet dress that left her chest bare. The dress billowed out at her waist in cascading waves to her ankles, leaving her black shoes, which lifted her heels several inches off the ground, showing. The only part of her face visible was the tip of her chin, as everything, including her eyes, was covered by a black vale to her hairline.


    She might as well have stayed in the shadows for all the good the light did. All Kathren could tell anyone about her would be the color of her dress, weird shoes, and that she had a large bust. It was probably two more details than the men could say about her, other than her dark skin ¡ª which they were getting a good eyeful of ¡ª but that wasn''t important.


    Kathren didn''t give a fuck about the size of another woman''s chest and who might be looking at it at the moment because there was a far greater concern that was steadily increasing in volume as it screamed in the back of her mind.


    And that was how close the¡­ goblins were getting as they approached the legionaries from all directions. The weird thing was that while she was pretty sure they were all friends, she noticed that as they passed the dark elf, they left enough distance so as to not even come close to brushing against her clothing as she stood at the edge of the light, which looked almost like fear.


    But as much as Kathren wanted to focus on the woman, her mind kept drifting along with her eyes as they darted to the goblins, who were intent on showing off their drawn blades and fangs. That doesn''t look friendly at all¡­Why would they do this¡­


    The longer she looked at the dark-skinned creatures, the more something about them kept nagging at Kathren. As she finally studied one creature for more than a second, she realized what was bothering her.


    Its blade was dripping red. And it wasn''t the only one.


    Eyes darting from the weapons, she took one quick glance around the room, and Kathren knew where the blood came from. While many of the nearby dead were pincushions, the ones farther away weren''t.


    They had fresh blood stains from slashes and stabs covering their body parts and bandages before pooling onto the floor. It wasn''t entirely one-sided, as some had knives in their hands stained black, but others looked like they had their throats slit while still in their sleep. And for the medics tasked with watching over the wounded, they were peppered with so many of the small arrows they looked like porcupines.


    Kathren felt fury rise within her, as friends who would kill her comrades only deserved death. Her rising fury spread into the Union, and soon, everyone was looking at what surrounded them with new eyes. This cellar had become a chapel to death, and they would soon deliver more offerings.


    The instant before they succumbed to their anger and blindly charged forward, Centurion Borment exerted his will on the Union, tamping the fury down into a simmering anger, "Not yet, lads. Not yet," his clipped voice echoed in their minds, "Form up and wait for them to come to us."


    "Ahhh~," The she-elf sighed in disappointment as soon they reformed their line, "and here I was hoping you would rush forward to get revenge. Why is nothing going my way today?" As the elf talked, she started walking forward, her hands reaching out to brush one of the goblins she passed. Every time she reached out, the goblin flinched like an abused dog but never moved far enough to get out of her reach.


    They obviously didn''t want to feel her touch, but it was like they feared what she would do to them if they actually escaped her more. Instead, they were trying to stretch out the time before she made contact for as long as possible. But Kathren might be seeing it wrong, as the room was getting dark. The lanterns must be dying¡­


    "This is why you never send a male to do a woman''s job." She said, gesturing to them with one hand as if they made the perfect example. "Those males couldn''t even handle a few of your¡­ Your¡­ What are your soldiers called? I just can''t seem to recall the correct word. Not that it matters. You are, after all, inconsequential soldiers for an insignificant people who will soon be forgotten. Now, if you would be so kin¡ª


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    "You can stop¡­ now." Redgenald cut in. "It''s not¡­ going to work."


    Kathren blinked, the black filling the edges of her vision vanishing. Giving her a clear view of the dark elf, who gave her the distinct impression that the silence that followed Redgenald''s words was one of astonishment, though she could not see the dark elf''s face, and her posture didn''t change. While nothing might have changed, the absence of movement can scream just as loud as any shouted words. And the elf had frozen in place.


    With a start, the elf turned to the side, brushing at something at her sleeve, her voice no longer sounding as smooth or as compelling as a moment before. "I see. I was unaware that someone with actual skill was in this backwater."


    "It''s kind of¡­ the point¡­ of the trade." Reginald casually said and actually received a nod of acknowledgment.


    ¡°Well¡­" Then she gave an indifferent toss of her shoulders, "I thought to gave you an easy death¡­ Or maybe I would have gotten a head start on refilling our ranks of thralls. A lot are dying up there¡­ I guess I hadn''t decided yet. But slowly crushing your mind after the goblins kill your friends could also be fun. Kill everyone but him." The elf said before turning and sauntering back the way she came as the goblins rushed forward.


    The formation of legionaries had pulled together and slowly moved back until they formed a half circle around the base of the stairs. Ten men and one woman against more than thirty enemies.


    And these ones looked far more armored and equipped than the archers. Kathren could see chainmail and plates of metal gleaming in the lantern light over their clothing.


    Hoots and sharp cries filled the chamber at the elf''s command, and the creatures skittered forward. Some of them even fell forward, landing on all fours to propel them forward faster than the rest of their kin.


    "My men are on their way," Redgenald spoke into the mental network, "We only have to hold on for a minute."


    "Can they make a difference?" Centurion Borment asked, not even bothering to ask how Redgenald knew that when everyone else''s long-range communication was nearly nonexistent.


    "One of them was a Knight in another life."


    ¡°¡­And this information wasn''t given before?" The Centurion asked after a moment, his voice sounding neutral, but there was a flare of rage from the legionaries in the network. "And why are you telling me now?"


    Kathren knew what the legionaries were thinking, as it was passing through her mind as well. If there was someone so strong in the manor, why had they done nothing before now? How many of their brothers died that could have lived?


    Then Redgenald''s calm and clear voice entered everyone''s mind, "The tenuous position of me and my men necessitated me to leave my options open. And while we have been pressed since we started defending the manor house, we have had no real threat of being overrun until now. As for why he is not already here, I didn''t think¡­" His voice trailed off, and Kathren felt his focus move away for a few moments before returning, but his mental voice had a distracted air to it like he was doing something else. "Where was I? Ah, yes. Having us both in the same location seemed to be overkill at the time. But this woman is a powerful Reaver, and it will take most of my focus to prevent her attempts of subverting yours ¡ª or the other legionaries in the manor ¡ª minds."


    Fear filled the Union, and Kathren felt those to the sides of Redgenald shuffle away from him, opening a gap between him and them. "Get back in formation!" Borment instantly snapped before turning his focus back to the conversation. "You should be back in the manor then. Even if every legionary in our centuries dies, it wouldn''t be as much of a loss as your death. Not to mention that your death is the end of this battle."


    "You aren''t wrong," Redgenald agreed, "But any chance of me going unnoticed vanished the moment we met the dark elf, she would have noticed my presence earlier if I wasn''t actively hiding, and now that I have reviled myself, they will be hunting for me. And if I have to fight, the closer I am to this woman, the better. Whatever casting they are performing on the city gives her a greater advantage every foot we are separated. If I am too far away, I can only defend until she eventually overwhelms me."


    Everyone could feel that he was speaking the truth, or they thought they felt he was telling them the truth. That was the main reason everyone feared those skilled in the telepathic branch of casting. No one could trust what they were feeling. Also, the fear that they would violate your mind, learning your darkest secrets while controlling you.


    All normal feelings, if anyone bothered to ask Kathren. It was not such a normal feeling when said figure was the only thing standing between you and a person deciding between making you into one of the puppets outside. And whose minions callously killed the wounded without a second thought.


    In that vain of thought, Kathren stepped a little closer to Redgenald''s back from where she stood in the back line, earning a pulse of approving amusement from him.


    "Guard the Reaver with your lives if a gap opens." Centurion Borment ordered getting an immediate, if somewhat reluctant, acknowledgment from the command. Everyone knew that a legionary''s life was worth less than a Knight''s.


    You wouldn''t have to ask more than four people before finding one who could tell you a first or second-hand story of a squad or century sacrificing themselves to save a Knight. And then they would go on to tell you how that Knight saved a century, cohort, or even legion by breaking the ranks of their foe a day or two later.


    Knights, to legionaries, represented hope. So long as they were around, any obstacle could be overcome. But Reavers weren''t really Knights, though they were at the same level of power.


    But an order had been given, and they would follow it.


    "I appreciate the sentiment," Redgenald messaged, his sword lifted and ready for the oncoming charge, "But this level of physical combat is not something I need to focus on to be effective."


    With nothing more to be said, the Union fell silent for all but the fearful anticipation churning underneath everyone''s thoughts.


    One final screech ripped itself from the goblins'' throats, and they leaped over the last distance between them and the thin line of legionaries.


    Kathren fired two of her spikes forward, hitting two of the small figures hanging in the air in their chests and causing a clink of steel as their armor absorbed the impact. Though their legs continued forward, their upper bodies stopped before they flipped down around the unmoving obstacle of her spike, crashing to the ground at the legionary''s feet in a daze, injured but far from dead.


    Raising their shields, the legionaries absorbed and pushed back the rest of the goblins falling on their heads, only for Redgenald''s voice, full of authority, to bark across the Union, "Shield slam!"


    No one questioned the command. As one, instead of retaliating against the goblins they had just thrown off their shields, the legionaries dropped into a crouch as they yanked their shields down, slamming their bottom edge into the floor.


    As the shields dropped, they connected with the curved swords of the second line of goblins. The creatures had shot forward, using the distraction of the flyers to try and snake their weapons under both their comrades and the shields to slash at the legionaries'' legs. Catching and trapping the blades under their shields, Borment didn''t hesitate in giving the order, "Bash and stab!"


    The shield wall pumped out a foot, cracking into the faces of the crouched goblins, staggering them and blinding them with tears as their noses were broken. As the shields were pulled back into line, the legionaries opened their shields enough for their swords to stab out into the necks and faces of the goblins.


    Not everyone''s blow found its mark, skittering off the goblin''s armor as some moved enough to dodge, but it bought a moment to reposition their shields and stances. As the former first row pulled themselves free from the third and the second was staggered from the attack, the legionaries stood firm, waiting for the next charge.


    "End it!" Redgenald''s voice rang out, filling the cellar in the momentary lull in the fighting.


    "Haha!" A sadistic laugh came from the dark elf from where she stood at the rear of the goblins, "But watching you struggle is so fun! It would be a shame to en¡ª


    The elf''s voice cut off in a gurgle, her head falling to the side as a crack, almost like thunder, filled the room.

 B2 Chapter 59

    As the dark elf''s head fell to the ground, Kathren suddenly felt twenty pounds lighter. It was like she had been at the bottom of a pond, and the water was pressing in on her from all sides, and from one breath to the next, the weight she didn''t even know was there vanished.


    Though she might not have known she was under pressure, she instantly noticed the difference between it being there and gone. Kathren''s thoughts sharpened as if she had been trapped in a mental fog, and now it was parting, which was a problem.


    The problem was simple, and most children made a game out of it at some point. Stick your arms out to the side and have someone push down on you while you hold them in place for a few minutes. When you suddenly stop and try to lower your arms, they will keep trying to rise on their own for a few more moments.


    Whatever the reason for it, it was mildly entertaining as a child. That was not so much the case when she was an adult and in the middle of a battle.


    Kathren might not have consciously known the pressure was suppressing her, but her mind and psy had been fighting against it the whole time. So when it suddenly vanished, there was a breath of relief as she could finally think freely. Then her psy continued to expand out of her control until it felt like it was beating against the walls of her skull.


    The world before her twisted like it was flowing down a drain and narrowed to a point as her heart pounded in her head, and Kathren struggled to stay conscious as the world rocked back and forth¡­ Or maybe that was her. Anyway, Kathren was sure she would rather be kicked in the head than experience this again, as that would have less of an effect.


    A familiar voice broke through her confusion like a splash of cold water, "Attack while they are disorientated!" The words echoed in her mind, bouncing around until all that mattered was how to accomplish the command.


    Kathren felt her eyes focus on the black creatures a couple of feet in front of her, their eyes glazed over as they swayed in place. She knew that they were her enemies and that, in a few moments, they would regain their wits and attack.


    With a flex of her will, she stopped her tendrils from drooping any farther and pumped psy into them to replace what was lost. It was a waist, but not one she could have controlled. The psy composing the tendrils had started despising the moment she had lost focus.


    Even after she replaced the lost psy, she continued to push more in as they snapped up. She knew time was running out, and now was not the time to be conservative.


    Stepping forward and drawing her sword, Kathren slashed at the neck of a creature, blood so dark that it looked black spilling out of the wound. With every spurt that came out with the beat of the creature''s heart, its dull eyes brightened with consciousness, but it was too late.


    Pushing past the figure and knocking him to the floor, Kathren absently slashed at the next in line as she focused on extending her tendrils as far as she could before puncturing two of the black figures'' necks.


    With how they still weren''t moving, it was like standing on the practice grounds firing at wooden targets. And it carried about the same amount of meaning to Kathren.


    Like a seamstress puncturing a cloth, Kathren went in and out of the necks of the creatures, ripping open gaping wounds. Then, she moved on to the next in line as she took another step forward, slashing at the throat of one of the unhurt creatures.


    To her sides, the others were also reaping their way through the goblins, each on their own optimized path as their targets were fed to them by the voice. So Kathren knew exactly which ones were hers, and even if they woke up in time to fight back, they would not live to see another day because she would not fail the command.


    Blinking, Kathren stared into the darkness filling the back of the vast cellar, confused about how she got there. Looking down, she found her sword in hand, dripping blood into a rippling pool of liquid lapping at her boots. As she raised her head to look to her sides, all she found were the lumpy forms outlined by the light.


    Gazing at the forms, fuzzy memories of using her sword and spikes to kill them bubbled up in her mind. But they didn''t feel like her memories. For one, they were disjointed, filled with gaps like reading a book with pages torn out. And as she ruffled through them, it was like thinking about a play, not her life.


    There was a disconnect she could not explain. Why would I¡­


    A hand clamped down on her shoulder, and Kathren spun around, lifting her blade to drive it home into her attacker''s chest, only to stop when she saw Redgenald''s concerned face looking down at her. He opened his mouth to speak, but Kathren continued her thrust before he could make a sound as she realized what happened.


    Her blade slashed into his clothes only to be deflected by whatever armor he was wearing underneath, and he turned to the side to avoid the brunt of the attack.


    Stepping past the now removed obstacle, Kathren''s face twisted in outrage as she moved to join the rest of the legionaries. All of them, even Centurion Borment, were blankly staring off into space in different parts of the room.


    As Kathren covered the distance to the stairs, they all started blinking, coming back to themselves. She could hear mutters of confusion and bewilderment as they looked around, taking in all of the goblins'' bodies.


    "What in the blasted Void happened," Centurion Borment demanded, looking to all of his men, searching for answers. Kathren was the only one to respond, but all she did was tilt her head toward Redgenald, making him the target for the Centurion''s growing hostility.


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    It wasn''t long before everyone remaining alive in the room was looking at the half-elf. Most of their gazes were one of confusion, but some were shifting toward open hostility as they realized what had happened.


    "I must apologize," Redgenald said, his voice sounding focused for the first time since Kathren had met him. "It was necessary that I guide your minds to take action."


    Kathren was already glaring at Redgenald, but as everyone else heard the news, they all sucked in a sharp hiss of shock and reflexively lifted their weapons, moving to form a unified front against him. Her response was to blink in surprise, forgetting her simmering rage at being controlled as he spoke in an uninterrupted sentence.


    "Explain," Borment demanded, his monotone voice filling the heavy silence that had crashed down on the room.


    "The dark elf was far more skilled than me," Redgenald said calmly, like the weapons pointing at him meant nothing. "However, she lacked my raw power. Sadly, it was not the overwhelming advantage I would have liked. I could prevent her from reading my thoughts and could shield your minds to an extent, but she was rapidly exerting her control despite my best efforts. So I had to lay a trap."


    "This isn''t explaining anything." Centurion Borment stated, his voice holding the edge of threat.


    "All in good time, Centurion. The circumstances of a situation are often needed to properly explain actions, and rushing could lead to further loss of life." Redgenald lightly admonished the man from where he leaned against the first row of racks at the edges of the light, giving them plenty of room. Visibly taking a breath, Centurion Borment grunted in acknowledgment, moving into a more relaxed position.


    Dipping his head in thanks, Redgenald continued, "I told you my men would be here in a minute, which she picked from your thoughts almost immediately. To avoid more losses, her forces pressed the attack while we spared in a mental battle. Her attention was so focused on finishing us off quickly that she didn''t notice I was shielding my subordinate''s mind as he snuck into position. Once he killed her, the backlash of her infiltration on your minds was greater than I expected. I also detected another wave of these creatures piling out of the tunnel connected to this chamber. I had to send my Knight to fight them off, leaving this group all but untouched. So I had no choice but to influence your minds."


    "Why!" Kathren spat out the word before he could take his next breath and continue, her voice laden with accusation. She probably should have waited until the Centurion said something, but no one was speaking up to reprimand her. Everyone wanted to know the answer to that question.


    Redgenald released a heavy sigh filled with regret, "The more a mind is influenced and partially controlled by an external source, the faster the mind can recover after the casting is lifted. It''s like a muscle becoming stronger as you exert it. The goblins had their minds touched more times than I could count. Within five seconds, many of them would have partially regained their senses, and within ten, they all would have been back. I didn''t have the psy to incapacitate them, and my arm can only do so much. With us already being in a Union and all of you and your minds reeling after being partially suppressed by the dark elf, I could compel and guide you to attack our enemy. It was the only way to end this without further death."


    ¡°¡­It sounds reasonable." Centurion Borment said after a moment, though he didn''t sound all that happy about it. "But why are you suddenly speaking so well? From what I heard, you could hardly string together two words without stopping. And I find it unlikely that you would so casually talk about abilities long guarded by the Reavers." The relaxed posture he kept during the time Redgenald was talking suddenly vanished, and the Centurion radiated danger.


    "You are correct." Redgenald said, running a dirty hand through his hair as a smile touched his lips, "As to the first part, it was simply because I was distracted from me monitoring everything around me all the time. Information is life in my line of work. And to your second point¡­ Well, normally, I would tell you some shit, flash a coin, and tell you to fuck off until you forget I exist. And you would do it willingly, hoping I would leave you alone." As he spoke, he lifted a silver coin with a partially unrolled scroll placed over a dagger engraved on it.


    He''s a fecking Reaver! Kathren thought, her mind blanking with shock.


    "But these aren''t normal times," Borment commented, visibly lowering his guard but not entirely at ease. No one sane, was comfortable around his kind.


    "No, they are not," Redgenald agreed, "We have been cursed to live in interesting times, and if we are lucky, our children will judge us based on our choices. Speaking of which, you will have to make an important one now."


    Redgenald paused and looked the Centurion square in the eyes, waiting for him to speak. After long seconds passed, the grizzled legionary finally grunted, "What kind of choice?"


    "Simple, to believe what I have to say or not. Whether you think I am some talented telepath with a bit of training or an agent of the Inquisition. In the moment of that woman''s death, I was able to read part of her memories." Redgenald picked at something under his fingernails as he spoke, like what he was saying was nothing, instead of some deep-seated secret that could get them killed just for knowing it.


    "The death of a body does not always directly correlate with the death of the mind and soul. There are a few moments where one can read the thoughts of a severed head if you have the skill. And I was able to do so." Kathren found herself leaning forward, fascinated by what he was telling them despite her best efforts. "I learned that there is an army on its way marching down the twins."


    The declaration made the eyes of the legionaries widen in fear, but the Centurion''s only response was to somehow straighten his back farther than it already was as he continued to scrutinize Redgenald. Even Kathren couldn''t stop herself from throwing a glance over her shoulder, looking for the army as if they were about to march out of the shadows.


    "But that doesn''t matter. Even in the middle of this clusterfuck, the army''s arrival will mean little and will be noticed a day or more before it arrives. What will destroy us is the collapse of Southtown''s walls. The tunnel network under our feet is so extensive that they have hollowed-out vast chambers below the walls. Enough that the walls'' entire width, length, and height can fall into the chambers like a puzzle piece. The third and second rings will fall; that is already certain, and trying to stop it is folly. But they didn''t have the time to dig out the area beneath the first ring. Instead, they are planning to destroy one section." Reginald looked up at them, his eyes burning with conviction as he stepped forward.


    "You can stay holed up in this manner, and you will probably last until you are rescued, as I doubt they will make another effort like this again. Or you can march with me to stop their construction. By myself, I will probably fail, but if I had a century of legionaries at my back, well, what can''t be done then?" Looking at every person in the room one at a time to engrave the importance of their choice into them, Redgenald''s eyes finally settled on Kathren as he asked, "So, what is your choice?"

 B2 Chapter 60

    I drifted in a void, with no feelings or emotions clamoring for my attention. My only disturbance was a rare thought slowly drifting through my mind, and I was content. I did not know how long I had been in the darkness or when it would end, but I did not care. I did not know how, but I knew this was not a fight, and struggling to escape could only harm me.


    Then, without warning, consciousness shattered the bliss of simply existing. I could feel a rigid and slightly cold floor beneath me and the weight of a blanket lying on my body. Not bothering to open my eyes, I sucked in a long breath through my nose. I was greeted by the smell of smoldering wood hanging in the air, which was trying and failing to hide the sharp tang of early morning.


    In no rush, I spent a few minutes enjoying the air before opening my eyes. There wasn''t much light in the predawn, but there was enough for me to make out the gray surface of an uneven rock roof overhead.


    I traced the edges and grooves of the stone with my eyes, appreciating the feeling of cold on the other side of my blanket and the needles pricking the tip of my nose. There were few things better than waking up in the morning and knowing that a new day of potential awaited you while you lay in your warm bed.


    On the flip side, few things were worse than climbing out of your burrow into the darkness and piercing cold when duty called. I once read a text where a scholar tried to frame every morning as a reminder to enjoy the small pleasures in life while using the comfort as a small trial to strengthen your willpower.


    But I always just thought of it as a fancy way of saying what my father told me when I didn''t want to wake up as a youth, "Get up and stop bitching when work needs to be done." More often than not, I find that simpler is better when it comes to such advice. It resonates with more people.


    Not that I ever passed up on even a minor opportunity to hone myself. Outside of recovering after a mission or being held up in a medico ward, I rarely allowed myself the time to relax.


    In my Irrational pursuit to overcome my perceived failings, I used everything I could to improve myself. How long had it been since the last time I relaxed and enjoyed the morning? I thought to myself. How long has it been since I enjoyed anything? The trip here had its moments¡­


    Knowing I would not fall asleep again, I lifted my head and looked around. I was lying at the back of a small cave ¡ª really a deep overhang ¡ª with the embers of a fire a few feet from me. Positioned around the wood ash, I saw the lumps of bodies lying under their bedrolls, snoring away as if they could fight back the morning if they were loud enough.


    Within my arm''s reach, Franklin was lying uncovered on his side, a small bowl, rag, and water skin at his side lying between us. As he slept, his left leg kicked at the ground, dragging his claws over the stone in a stuttering rasp as he dug five small furrows into it.


    Licking my lips, I found my mouth parched, but not the bone dry like I would expect it to be after days without water. Franklin must have been sitting up taking care of me. Wonder how long I''ve been asleep? It must have been a while for him to be concerned enough to hover over me.


    Flexing my limbs, I expected them to be heavy with weakness and to feel a mindless hunger gnawing at my guts, forcing me to seek out food, but I felt fine. Surprisingly so.


    I was a bit thirsty, though¡­


    Sitting up, I grabbed the water skin near Franklin and threw the blanket covering me to the side, finding myself clothed in only my tunic. Quickly glancing around me, I moved to slip into my britches and boots placed within arm''s reach. Getting up without any trouble, I hesitantly started to walk through the sleeping forms arranged around the embers of a campfire, my steps growing more confident when a wave of weakness never crashed down on me.


    Coming to a stop at the mouth of the deep overhang, I glanced to the right as I noticed some motion.


    A man was leaning against a large stone, cradling a spear in his crossed arms, looking into the surrounding forest. Though his shoulders were hunched forward as if in sleep, his head was moving side to side slowly. I didn''t know his name, but from the gray light of dawn touching the horizon, I was able to recognize him as one of the legionaries in Optio Lun''s squad.


    When I stepped up next to him, he turned to glance at me, saying, "Should have another hour for my wat¡ª Who are¡ª What? You''re awake!?" He perked up and looked around as if searching for someone to confirm what he was seeing.


    "Yeah, I am," I said, giving him a half smile before turning away and looking at the forest, "Woke up a few minutes ago."


    "Ahh~, you sure you should be up and walking around?" Uncertainty filled his voice, "Don''t mean nothing by it, but more blood came out of your head than I have seen spilled by men who had their limbs chopped off. I''m not sure you should be walking around."


    "Maybe not," I said, amused but indifferent. "But I feel fine. So I''m gonna climb up this hill and watch the sunrise from its peak. I haven''t done that¡­ since I was with my father." Having said so, I started walking around the rock outcropping, looking for an easier part of the hill to climb.


    ¡°Umm¡­ Sir? I don''t think¡­" Called the watchman, but I paid him no attention. He might have reached out to stop me, but he never moved from his position. Not to come after me or wake up the others as indecision gripped him.


    I didn''t care what he did. I was going to climb the hill. His concern was warranted if I really did bleed as much as he said, but I felt fine.


    So good, in fact, that I would describe myself as bursting with energy.


    If my strength was all a self-delusion, and exhaustion would soon come crashing down on my shoulders, I would find out at some point as I climbed the hill. Not that I cared that much. Someone should eventually come to get me if I collapsed and passed out. I doubted Franklin would let me die now after what he had done to keep me alive.


    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Though I might wake up tied up so I wouldn''t wander off again¡­ Ahh, fuck it, this was worth the risk.


    Kind of self-centered of me to make others worry, but I just couldn''t believe weakness would come crashing down on me. And I have to get higher.


    And I was right; that moment of exhaustion never came.


    I walked along the hillside until I found a nice spot filled with tall grass to climb, then marched up. As I zigzagged my way up the slope, I let my hands brush the tops of the grass, collecting dew and enjoying its crisp scent wafting up in the damp air.


    Reaching the ridge line half an hour later, I walked along it until I almost walked onto the boughs of an old ash tree springing from a sudden depression on the hilltop. A steep slope dropped for twenty or so feet before it leveled out for a few dozen yards and rose again. Within the hollow, the tree had taken root.


    Its branches were weighed down with leaves and draped over both sides of the hill. And the trunk was wide enough that four men might not be able to wrap their arms around the rolling, lumpy bark. It was like a dozen smaller trees had grown together over the better part of a century.


    Walking around the old majestic tree and taking it in, I spotted a part of its roots that looked like a bench. Taking its appearance as an invitation, I accepted and took a seat facing south.


    Running my hands over its warn bark, it appeared that I wasn''t the first to rest under the leaves of this tree. Looking up and turned east to the source of the golden rays lighting up the sky, I saw a rosy pink bleeding over the horizon, touching and dying the edges of the clouds hanging in the sky.


    It was a beautiful morning, but my eyes could not focus on the sunrise. I even found myself becoming mildly annoyed at it. It was distracting me from what was really important. And that was looking to the southwest.


    Straight into the grassy side of a slightly taller foothill blocking my sight from the farms covering the southern part of the Cradle. It was a hillside that I could mistake for a thousand others, and it wasn''t what was distracting me either. That belongs to something far to the southwest, beyond the sight of any man.


    But I knew it was there. And I knew it was calling to me.


    I know I said I was coming up here to look at the sunrise, but that wasn''t really the reason. And neither was it for a chance to relax and enjoy a view. My reason was simple and sounded utterly insane.


    I had to get closer.


    It wasn''t much distance, hardly any at all, really, but the little amount of ground I covered moving south made me feel¡­ lighter. As if there wasn''t so much of a weight pressing down on me.


    Or maybe it was that I was a step closer to the fire, and I felt ever so slightly warmer.


    I''ve been feeling this for a while now. It was like an itching on the back of my neck. Sure, the more I paid attention to the feeling pulling me to the southwest, the more it irritated me, but the slightest distraction could pull my mind away and make me forget for days at a time.


    Now, my mind was filled with a second sun. A beacon calling for action and help.


    I remembered her words and all the emotions infused into them like they had just happened, and I could feel an urgency pushing me to act. While leading up to the end of the Earth Pulse, my memories were fracturing and becoming disjointed flashes of agony; the last part was clear as day.


    The World Tree only said a few words, but there was so much infused into them. A weight and depth to them that was unlike anything I had ever experienced.


    And now, just by the fact I heard and remember them, I had a duty. A duty to my "people" to take up the "mantle" soon¡­


    The thing was, what is "soon" to a thousands-of-years-old tree? And what was the mantle?


    The duty had been weighing on my mind for a while now, basically from when I remembered the Dawn Tree''s call for help in the medico ward. But the branch of the World Tree''s words were¡­ a desperate hope.


    There was no expectation in the words that I would ever be able to fulfill her request. I was one of countless candidates with potential who came across a Dawn Tree in their wanderings. But it was a potential that she had long given up on being fulfilled, as no one had been able to bridge the gap, let alone remember her words.


    Things have changed now because of what had been done to me. What exactly the change was or why it happened, I didn''t know. But the change was significant enough to be far more important than I could imagine.


    There was a danger poised above this world. A threat large enough that the World Tree ¡ª a mythical entity said to be capable of bridging the void between worlds and bringing those tipping over the cliff of death back to life ¡ª was filled with fear and resigned ineptitude.


    Something was coming that she could not stop, and all but the most fleeting of hopes had vanished. And then here I came, sparking that flickering hope into a roaring flame.


    More than the need I felt to go to the World Tree purely based on her desires, her words had placed the knowledge that it was an absolute necessity in my mind. I felt that I was the only one who could prevent a cataclysm from befalling the world. And should I refuse or shirk my duty, countless people will die.


    As I sat on the root bench, my eyes continually drawn to the southwest, I tried to tell myself I was deluded. That there was no way someone as insignificant as me could be called to such a task.


    I tried to convince myself I was misunderstanding the World Tree''s intentions, but I couldn''t even take the first step in entertaining that thought. We communicated in the most intimate way possible.


    More intimate than sex or speaking your innermost thoughts and beliefs to another. She touched my soul, and there would be no way for me to misinterpret her words. It was as inconceivable to me as the sun rising in the east one morning.


    "I would think you would be eager to finish our deal," thrummed Kanieta as she plopped down next to me. She slowly crossed her legs and arched her back in a stretch, her tails flipping up before curling around her body and lightly falling onto her lap. The tips of the tail danced above my legs, occasionally landing a teasing bop against my thighs, "rather than sit up here and stare off into space."


    "I have a lot to think about," I replied without taking my eyes off the horizon. "And it¡¯s¡­ important."


    "More important than the task you risked your life for?" There was curiosity in her voice and an unasked question hanging in the silence between us, not that there was much space.


    I paused momentarily, then decided there was no point in trying to keep this a secret. And it could even help me if I spoke my thoughts aloud. "Did they explain to you what an Earth Pulse is?" I asked.


    "Long-range pulse that tells you everything on the ground," Kanieta answered succinctly.


    "Yeah,'''' I sighed, not bothering to go into how much was left out of that statement. "Usually, an undirected pulse travels a couple hundred yards. Most can focus it in one direction and get results multiple times that."


    I paused, my mind returning to the instant after casting the Earth Pulse. Shaking off the line of thought, I continued talking, "An Earth Pulse can travel hundreds of miles. The hard part isn''t sending out the pulse but retaining the information you need without being overwhelmed¡­"


    Looking down at my hands, I slowly rubbed them together as I looked at the grime under my nails. "My Earth Pulse¡­ traveled further within the first few seconds than I have ever experienced. And then it kept on going. Almost like it was being pulled. By the time it stopped, my mind and soul were moments from being broken, and I was in the presence of the World Tree. She called me to pick up the mantle and come to her¡­ And since then, I have felt a pull to the southwest."


    A look of surprise came over Kanieta''s face, and as she opened her mouth to speak, an excited gravelly boom flowed over the hilltop, "You hear The Call!"

 B2 Chapter 61

    Turning to look at the one who spoke, I was surprised to see Franklin standing a dozen feet from the trunk of the tree. How had I not noticed his approach? Not that I was paying particular attention to my surroundings, but he wasn''t the most stealthy, and even the way Kanieta''s tails twitched suggested her surprise.


    I thought it was at his appearance, but that assumption was proven wrong when she started speaking."That''s absurd," Kanieta scoffed, her face twisting from shock to dismissal. "He must be feeling something else. Only Kin and the Lost are known to hear the Call. There have been dozens of experiments and studies about it, and all have shown that Olimpians and the Letairry are deaf to the Call."


    "And why is that?" Franklin asked, "Because the Olimpians are hated by the world, and the Letairry can''t look past themselves. Green is no longer hated. So¡­" At that, he threw his arms wide, motioning to the world and everything in it like he was saying, "There you go."


    Kanieta opened her mouth to instinctually reject the statement but slowly closed it after a look of contemplation came over her face. "I hadn''t thought of that¡­ not sure anyone did."


    Franklin puffed out his chest, making it seem like it was suddenly a large barrel of wine, while putting his hands on his hips. Reveling in his own stance and the attention, he proclaimed, "We did!"


    I watched Kanieta level an unimpressed stair at Franklin, her doubt shimmering off her like it was a heat haze. She didn''t say anything and didn''t need to, as the slight narrowing of her slanted eyes said it all.


    "Hey!" Franklin shouted to defend himself, "Do ya really think Elder Barlot would send me out here just to keep track of Green, act as an intermediary, and keep an eye on Derg''s actions?"


    ¡°Well¡­ I did find that kind of strange. Way too reasonable and strategic for badgers." Kanieta muttered loud enough for only me to make out clearly.


    "What did you say?" I said intentionally loud, "I couldn''t quite make that out."


    My comment caused her to snap her head and level a piercing stare at me, but all she got for it was an innocent smile as she looked into my eyes, twinkling with amusement. I wasn''t trying to hide my intentions of stirring the pot, which only increased the intensity of her glare.


    She obviously wasn''t going to further acknowledge my comment, and Franklin was muttering to himself, so I ignored the woman, turned to the badger, and asked, "So why did you come on this mission then?"


    Looking like it was the most obvious thing in the world, Franklin said, "To keep an eye on and protect ya, cousin. Why else would I come?"


    I wasn''t really sure what I was expecting.


    Well, there were only two options. The badgers were super secret clandestine spies, and everything they did was to hide the truth or misdirect it. Or they were what they seemed. A straight forward and blunt people who were intelligent enough to occasionally use their own perception within society to their advantage.


    It would be an amusing couple of hours if he came out with some story of intrigue and manipulation of the Kin on a grand scale. And that they were the ones behind everything, pulling all the strings.


    But that just seemed fundamentally wrong to me. Like it would go against nature or something.


    However, I did have one question, "Why do you call me cousin?" With my peripheral vision, I saw Kanieta''s fox ears slightly twitch and perk up. She must be interested in the answer as well.


    "Because we come from the same ancestors." Franklin said, his words dripping with an unvoiced "duh, you idiot." I even saw him turn to Kanieta and roll his eyes like I was the most oblivious person in the world.


    I turned to Kanieta, and she had a look of shock on her face that must have mirrored my own. Not that Franklin noticed either of the looks. "So, when are ya going to start the battle," Franklin rumbled, his voice taking on a hungry edge. "I haven''t had a fight in days or a proper one in weeks."


    "What did you fight?" I absentmindedly asked, as my thoughts were focused on the revelation that the Kin and Olimpians had a common ancestor. However, I did notice that he looked less twitchy than I last remembered.


    "I fought and kicked out the bear from the cave we''re staying in," Franklin said as he started kicking at the ground before bending over and scraping at the dirt. "It wasn''t that much of a fight. The little bitch could hardly throw out a proper hit, but he could take a beating before keeling over. The hardest part was getting him to stay in place and fight."


    Looking at Kanieta, I raised an eyebrow in question. Her face going blank, she said in a monotone, "It was a big brown bear that, after his first hit to its muzzle, tried to run away before Franklin broke its legs and continued to pound on it until it was nothing more than a blood balloon containing a meat jelly and bone shards slowly seeping out of its holes."


    I gave Kanieta a look filled with annoyed disgust, silently telling her that I didn''t need all of the gory details. A glare that she returned in equal measure while flicking her eyes between Franklin and me. It might have just been me putting words into her look, but I was pretty sure she was telling me that if she had to deal with his antics, I at least had to hear all of the details, if not experience them firsthand.


    Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    He was here because of my presence. There''s not much I could complain about that stance.


    The heat in my glare was dying, and I had to look away. As my eyes moved, I thought I saw a satisfied curling of Kanieta''s lips and felt the soft fur of her tail brush against my hand. Ignoring that, I went back to what was important.


    "Hey!" I shouted, trying to get Franklin''s attention from where it was on the ground, "The bear isn''t important. How distant of an ancestor are we talking about, and how do you know?"


    "Yeah," Kanieta joined in, "And if you know, why don''t I know about this? Seems like something I should have been told."


    "Pifft," Franklin snorted, waving a clawed hand at Kanieta, throwing a spray of dirt at us to spatter over our laps, "Like we know everything about ya''r clan or all of the others. We all have our secrets. And I don''t know, the Elder chieftain just told me."


    Like what he said explained everything, he returned to pulling away patches of the ground.


    "How does your Elder know?" Kanieta asked, wiping at the dirt caught on a fold in her clothes, her voice tight.


    "How would I know? I''m not the elder."


    "But you trust him when he said we are¡­ related?" I asked.


    "Why would he lie? Ha! Got ya!" He shouted, yanking his arm back and pulling a struggling rabbit with it. A struggle that abruptly stopped with a quick jerk of his finger. "Who''s up for rabbit." Then he looked dejected when he glanced around, ¡°Well¡­ I guess eating it raw is okay, too."


    With his words, he brought the dead animal up to his mouth, ready to bite into its neck. "Why don''t you wait until we get back to camp until you eat it?" Kanieta said, pain filling her voice.


    "What!" Franklin gasped in horrified disgust, "Seasoned rabbit is horrible! Only fresh rabbit is good! It''s just a pity that I already killed it. Oh well, I guess I have to eat now, or it will go to waste."


    "By the mother, why!" Kanieta yelled in exasperation, her eyebrow twitching.


    "Ya never waste food," Franklin said, looking at Kanieta appalled.


    Ignoring Franklin''s and Kanieta''s antics, I looked to the southwest again, a yearning sparking to life inside me. But sitting here was fine for now, and being in the fresh air was relaxing.


    Thinking back on my time with the Badgers, I was inclined to believe Franklin. Both in that he was telling the truth that he didn''t know anymore and that his elder briefly brought up the subject in passing before we left. Imagining Franklin and an elder badger sitting in a small room reviewing ancient history and the secret texts of their people for weeks seemed wrong.


    If I wanted more answers, I would have to go south¡­ And I was already planning on doing that, so there wasn''t any more need to worry about the subject anymore.


    "Do you know what the source of the Call is?" I asked a few minutes after the crushing of bones stopped.


    "No," Kanieta said, startling me as I realized she was all but pressed up against my side with her tail wrapped around my waist. "And we never will. It''s probably the greatest curse of my people."


    "Why?"


    ¡°¡­Every mother in the Kin knows the fear of her infant disappearing the instant they look away. The young cannot resist following the Call and will do so even if it hurts them. It is the same with the Lost. When they reach a certain size of a hoard, they cannot stop themselves from setting out in search. It''s why they always attack your people. You''re in the way. And yet, the closer we get, the harder it becomes to retain our minds. We lose track of our place in the world and can wander aimlessly forever if we get too close. Legend has it that our minds become one with the world, and we are unable to have another thought."


    I let the silence hang in the air between us for a few minutes, then said, "That sounds horrible. Living in a constant fear of what feels¡­ sacred. How can you resist?"


    "It''s not that bad." Franklin rumbled, licking the blood from his lips. "I would guess that it is stronger for ya right now than for us. It''s like an itch I can''t scratch for me."


    "Me as well." Kanieta agreed. "When I head in its direction, it stops momentarily, but I hardly notice the change at this point. You said the Earth Pulse is the reason you can feel it now?"


    "Not exactly," I said slowly, putting my thoughts into words. "It brought me to the attention of the World Tree¡­ and she reached out to me. She told me she needed my help and to come to her. And now I feel¡­ better. Like I''m more at ease and relaxed. Or my eyes are opened and bright for the first time in my life¡­ Since I woke up, it''s like a fire has been burning in my mind. I felt the Call before, but it was mild, like you said. A distant whisper that I couldn''t quite make out and could easily ignore."


    "So the World Tree is calling us?" Kanieta asked, her voice filled with thought.


    "Probably?" I responded, before becoming less confident, "Maybe. But it doesn''t really matter. I''m gonna find out what it is."


    "Hmm," Kanieta hummed in longing, "a mystery lost to time, waiting to be discovered and brought to light. Finding such a truth does sound¡­ exciting. But the dange¡ª


    "Hey," interrupted Franklin, "If something can change to make ya feel the Call more, can ya do something to lessen the Call''s effects?"


    "No," Kanieta instantly responded while throwing him a look of annoyance at interrupting her, which he didn''t notice. "No spell constructed of mana a Kin can cast will separate itself from¡­ the¡­ world."


    As Kanieta trailed off, she turned to look at me, a look similar to excited lust shining in her eyes. It''s usually a look I would love to see from a woman, especially an attractive one. But I got the distinct feeling that she was eyeing me like I was a hunk of meat or a new toy, not a man.


    It was disturbing, and not something I felt was good for my future, so I blurted out a new topic. "I found the Crescent Moon Camp! Don''t you want to know where it is?''"


    "All in good time," Kanieta said, leaning forward, her head tilting up and down as her eyes raked over me, "Even if we know where it is right now, it won''t matter much until tonight."


    "Ahh," I said in desperation, scooting away from the predatory fox, "But we got to get our reinforcements before we attack."


    "Reinforcements?" Kanieta asked, her voice filled with confusion as she leaned back slightly.


    "Yeah, when I was casting the Earth Pulse, I sensed¡­" My eyes flicked past her to where her tails were stretched out behind her, and my brow furrowed, "Why is the hair on the tip of your middle tail much shorter? Were you attacked?"


    Noticing the woman''s tails freeze in place before jerking back together to hide the one missing its white tip. Looking down, I saw Kanieta''s cheeks trying their hardest to match her hair as her lips were pressed into a thin line. As her eyes flicked up to meet mine, I saw a burning anger inside of them before she blurred with motion.

 B2 chapter 62

    Hurrying to cover the last of the distance back to camp an hour before noon, I cursed myself for leaving without grabbing any food as I felt the hollowness in my gut. Water could only do so much to take the edge off hunger. At least my struggles were nearly over, though, as all I had to do was push past this last wall of bushes, and then I would be able to see the gathered legionaries.


    I made no attempt to conceal myself on approach, and even if I did, it wouldn''t matter with Franklin lumbering along behind me, letting out the occasional wild cackle. With the crackling of leaves and branches snapping sounding under our ¡ª but mostly Franklin''s ¡ª feet, it should have long alerted the legionaries to our approach.


    Forcing aside the branches of some bush, I saw the handful of legionaries gathered around the merrily burning campfire. Placed on a spit was an iron pot that I had no idea where they got it from, but it gave off a mouthwatering scent of a stew, so I didn''t care.


    As I pushed through the brush, the legionaries had all turned to look at me. A moment after I appeared, their hands lifted from their nearby weapons, and they returned to whatever tasks they were doing before.


    Some might take offense to being greeted with the implicit threat of a hand on a weapon, but I approved of the training ingrained habit of never being out of reach of a weapon and reaching for it when something approached. Especially when in hostile territory.


    These men had been through a lot in the past weeks, and instead of being worn down and broken by the experience, they were refined. Any fat on their bodies had been burned off, exposing lean muscle underneath. And their willpower was sharpened against the world as they learned to implicitly rely on each other.


    "Ahh, there you guys are!" Called out Leeroy, waving us over, "The stew should be just about done. Grab a seat, an'' get yourself a bowl."


    The invitation and smell made my stomach rumble loud enough that the men could hear it from where they sat twenty-something feet away, making them chuckle. "I''ll gladly take you up on that," I said, smiling back at them. As they watched me cover the distance, I saw confusion appear on their faces.


    "Ha!" Shouted a squat, blocky man, "I told you he wouldn''t be able to make it up the hill without falling. Probably hit his head on a rock to get that shiner. Surprised Franklin isn''t carrying him back."


    ¡°Hehehe!" Cackled Franklin behind me. Turning to look at him, I saw him keeling over, trying to look up, only to see me. The sight of my face sent him into even greater hysterics as he fell to the ground. Damn liar, I knew it wasn''t going away.


    "Nah," A man who I remembered was named Jankens said, "He didn''t hit a rock. He came down in a mud puddle. How else would he get all that black gunk smeared over the side of his face?"


    "Are you sure?" Asked the first man, taking on a contemplative tone as he studied me. My hands were twitching at my sides as I struggled to keep them from raising and brushing at my face. I already knew it wouldn''t help.


    "Yeah," Leeroy added, "You''re confusing the gunk on the side of his face as a black eye, Boik. It''s just that it''s spread over his eyelid, too."


    "Ahh, yep, yep." Acknowledged Boik, nodding his head in agreement. "I see that now that he''s closer. What is it? That doesn''t look like mud."


    As I approached the man standing guard at the cave entrance, a second man approached him, passing the first man one of the steaming bowls he held. To their obvious enjoyment, they blew on it before taking a slurp. Nodding in response to them raising their bowls as a greeting, I moved past them, letting them return to the important work of watching the surrounding forest.


    I ignored the fact that they didn''t respond to my greeting. I knew they weren''t trying to slight me or anything. It was just their eyes were locked on the side of my face, and they didn''t notice anything else.


    At least they have the discipline to remain at their posts, I thought, trying to find the bright side of the situation. They apparently weren''t taking any chances with their safety, even with Leeroy and the Redtail Kin around, who were no doubt telling them everything was clear. It was another thing I could appreciate.


    Posting a guard when you shouldn''t need one might sound inconsequential or even counterproductive, but that was far from the case. Discipline and order were among the cornerstones of a legion, even if one''s legion had dwindled to no more than seven men. Optio Lun ordering a guard to be posted reminded the men what they were, and it proved that he was thinking and taking their safety seriously. I guess that it wasn''t just Leeroy that let them make it here.


    Leeroy could have been the guide, but someone had to unify these men. To hold them together and remind them they still had a duty beyond surviving, even when things looked the bleakest. And that type of personality and ability weren''t common.


    Spotting an empty log, I sat and accepted the offered bowl. Bringing the food beneath my nose, I breathed in the rich, heady scent of the meat and spices with a sigh. Where they got the ingredients, I didn''t care, as rocks were starting to look good at this point. Taking a slurp, I enjoyed the food while raising my bowl as a salute to the cook as I said, "Damn, this is great. Can''t say I''ve had much better food out on campaign."


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    "I know, right!" Leeroy said with a hearty laugh, slapping the man next to him on the back. "Jankens here is a miracle worker. You have to taste his fried chicken. It''s some of the best food you will ever eat, and even our enemies will come asking for it. This one time, we were out on a short patrol with our century searching for a beastkin pack in the area of some small village." Looking to his side sheepishly, he added, "Ah, sorry, Hurring. No offense."


    "None taken." Hurring rumbled, waving him off as eyes shifted to study me, "The Lost can regain their minds, but putting them down is often necessary. We have long accepted what we and they are."


    "Anyway, once we arrived, we couldn''t find the fuckers after most of a day of searching, so we set up camp. And, surprise, surprise, there was an error between what the supply tribune''s paperwork said we would get and what was sent with us. Except this time, it worked in our favor." As Leeroy spoke, some of the others were listening to him with as much attention as I was, and they gasped at the last sentence in shock. Every legionary eventually finds themselves on the wrong end of a supply mixup, but few ever find themselves on the good side.


    "Instead of a wagon of travel rations, we received a wagon that must have been destined to be laid out on the table of some high-ranking tribune. We couldn''t let such perishable goods go to waste, so we started cooking, even sending a squad to the nearby village to buy some extra supplies and make it a real feast. The whole camp was filled with the scent of the food, and apparently, the beastkin liked what they smelled, too, because they burst from the nearby forest tree line. We quickly gathered for battle, but the fight was over before it started, as only a few of the beasts even swiped their claws at us, with the rest running right past. The bastards stormed into our camp, stole the fried chicken and sausages while knocking most of the other food into the dirt, and then bolted back into the forest. We were easily able to track them back to their den after that, but it cost us our once-in-lifetime fortune, thanks to Janken''s cooking." Leeroy had a sad look on his face and even feigned that he was crying and had to wipe away a tear.


    I smiled at the story, enjoying my stew as the others started heckling Jankens for cooking for their enemies. I continued draining the bowl and even asked for another as I found myself surprisingly hungry. Well, maybe not that surprising, but the good company around me and stories and laughter of better times seemed to help the food taste better.


    "Okay," Leeroy called, gathering everyone''s attention as he clapped his hands together, "time to talk about the smoke in the room. Green, what in the void is on your face?"


    "Ahh," I sighed, and I felt my face flush slightly as everyone who was content to shoot glances at me from the corner of their eyes a moment ago suddenly turned to study me openly. ¡°Yeah¡­ I don''t know. A test¡­ So I''m told."


    "What did you do to piss her off?" Asked Hurring in the confused silence that followed.


    "He asked what happened to the tip of one of her tails, like a fecken idiot." Franklin slurped his head inside the pot up to his ears as he finished off what was left of the stew, causing a slight echo to his voice. "Kanieta slapped him and placed a spell on his cheek in the shape of a foxtail to test the changes to his body. She wants to know if he still retains the innate Olimpian resistance to mana. He does not."


    "Not sure you should be calling me an idiot when you''re practically wearing a pot for a hat," I grumbled.


    Franklin raised his head out of the pot in his lap, stew dripping down his chin and smeared on his cheeks. Looking me dead in the eyes, he said in a dry tone, "Anyone who doesn''t know that mentioning a woman''s bad haircut is a bad idea is, at the very least, a fecking idiot. Especially if she has had it for weeks, and pointing it out now is telling her ya either aren''t paying attention to her or are intentionally being an arshole." Finishing with what he had to say, he licked his lips, then stuck his head back into the pot and started eating again.


    I looked at Franklin and had nothing to say in my defense. He was right. I really didn''t know why that question had popped out of my mouth or what I was expecting to come of it.


    Deciding to change the subject, I turned to Hurring and said, "She also told us to tell you that you are to come with us when we leave."


    Optio Lun, hearing that we were finally getting down to business, asked, "So, Kanieta isn''t returning?"


    "No," I said, shaking my head, "She''s going to find her cousin, then they''re going to scout out the Crescent Moon camp."


    "Your Earth Pulse actually worked?" He sounded surprised, but I couldn''t blame him. Franklin told me earlier that I was passed out for over two days. "We figured you fumbled the casting and were suffering from a backlash."


    "Nah," I said, wincing a little at the memory of the pain. "I didn''t mess up the casting. It didn''t turn out like I would have liked, but¡­ if anything, the results were better than I could have hoped. And the Crescent Moon camp wasn''t the only thing I found." Letting the silence hang in the air, they all leaned forward slightly as they could tell I was about to tell them something important. "I found your legion." I finally said.


    "What!"


    "How!?"


    "Where?"


    Multiple voices asked all at once, only for Lun''s voice to cut over them all as he asked, "You sent an Earth Pulse all the way to the Valleys?"


    Raising my hand in the air, I signaled them to be quiet, having to wait a few seconds for everyone to calm down. Looking at Lun, I said, "Yes, but that wasn''t where I felt them. The legion had already crossed the Twins and was making their way along the belt of fortresses a few valleys north of here. Even if they marched at an easy pace, they shouldn''t be more than a couple day''s travel at most from us."


    "What? Really?" Lun said, excitement filling his voice as he popped to his feet. I nodded in response, and he looked to where most of his men were gathered. "You should have told me sooner! Pack it up, boys! We must get moving before we waste any more of the day."


    "Hah!" I barked, then nodded to Leeroy, saying, "A few minutes or an hour won''t matter with the world''s best guide over there. All we have to do is get close enough, and he will talk over." My words made Leeroy blush and rub the back of his head as he looked around uneasily, his foot kicking at the ground as if no one had ever complimented him before.


    I wasn''t exaggerating or trying to be kind. Leeroy''s ability was powerful, and I fully expected this to be an easy walk in the park.

 B2 Chapter 63

    "Fall back! Fall back! Get your asses to the next corridor!" Rang Hold Leader Groth''s voice through the tunnel. You would think that after days of what seemed like a constant battle and weeks of being besieged, his voice would have started to crack from shouting so many commands.


    And you would be right. Matus had noticed a rough undercurrent to the Hold Leader''s voice within the first week of all this. But instead of his voice continuing to crack until it gave out entirely, it froze right at the beginning, giving it a rough edge like he had breathed in too much smoke.


    In many ways, it was like the Old Man and his orders had become a physical representation of the resolve and determination of their hold. There seemed to be an added weight within every one of his words, something more than what could be heard with an ear.


    Matus saw that whenever the old man passed by. Groth would single out those resting or standing in reserve, doing something as simple as clapping them on the back or saying a few words. It wasn''t much, but the raspy words of encouragement or a tired but determined gesture would perk up the younger holders with a burst of new energy, and the flickering fire of resolve would spark with new life in their eyes.


    He saw similar scenes a couple of times in the legion when, in the midst of a conflict, those men who were truly worth following stepped forward to rally their comrades to stand firm. Those individuals propped themselves up as a lighthouse against despair and fear, and all those who could see them would gather around, protecting their last fleeting hope as darkness crept in all around them. However, the problem with a last ray of hope in the darkness was that if it should be put out, the men relying on it to guide them would have their morale shatter along with its disappearance.


    During his fifty-odd years of service, Matus spent most of his time in the legion as a Knight. During that time and the hundreds of battles large and small all along the Republic''s borders he fought in, he had only seen men like Groth a few times. That might have had more to do with him being a Knight, and as such, most of his interactions with common legionaries in a battle were when they were being overrun after any attempted rally had failed. Besides waiting in the back lines for the right time to act, he was either filling a hole or leading a charge.


    Though Matus had met quite a few legati, and many of them were probably natural leaders, as he had seen most walking among their legionaries before and after a battle reassuring the men. It was just that if anyone ever saw a legatus outside of their command tent and all the maps and figurines showing the flow of the fight during a battle, they would assume the situation was fucked and they were about to have a last stand.


    Maybe that was a little bit of an unfair assumption on Matus''s part. Just because the leader of a legion wasn''t in a position to make a split-second decision with all the available information didn''t mean there was nothing else they could do besides join in as one final grain of sand on the scales or watch the fight play out¡­ Yep, totally didn''t mean that.


    Matus was positive that for a large portion of a battle, the most productive thing a legatus could do was walk around and offer a few words of support to their men to lift their spirits rather than stare at an unchanging map. But they signed up for and pursued the burden of command, and someone had to be ready to give the orders that dictated the victory or defeat of a battle.


    More to the point, Matus did see a legatus and his guards during a battle against an Imperial Legion one time. When he asked around later, he found out that they were within arms'' reach of being destroyed. The 7th Legion had committed every reserve to the fight with no sign of relief arriving, and the legatus had to take his personal guards to reinforce a section of the walls.


    At that point in the fight, the outcome that favored their enemy was looking extremely likely, even if most didn''t realize it at the time. They either forced their enemies back, or the legion would be hacked down as they defended the fortress from its besiegers. So¡­ the appearance of a legatus during a battle being a bad sign wasn''t really an unfounded assumption on his part.


    That was a bloody fight, with over a third of the legion dying during and after the battle, with nothing gained by either side. And quite the greeting as his first posting as a Knight. You would think that would have made me want to retire sooner¡­ Matus mentally sighed. Not that being retired has done me any favors at this point.


    When he left that life behind to return to his old home, Matus sure as hell didn''t expect to see Groth walking among the holders like a grizzled old tribune reassuring their entirely well-founded fears. He didn''t expect it, but most of all, he didn''t want to see it.


    It wasn''t for some petty reason like he didn''t want to see another get all the glory as they united the hold or anything like that. Matus didn''t want to see it in his home for the simple reason that the circumstances around it demanded a bloody and brutal conflict as they were pushed to the brink of destruction. To wish that to befall one''s home so a great leader would rise¡­ well, the wisher probably didn''t actually think of that place as their home.


    And yet, his wish could not change the fact tragedy had come crashing down on them. To put it lightly, their hold and its inhabitance had taken a beating. But as long as their will held firm and they continued to stand against their attackers, no one could claim their hold wasn''t still standing. Their walls might be crumbling as they were battered by the beasts and abominations outside, but they still held.


    Stories told of holds being reduced to nothing but a pile of rubble and their underground tunnels packed with bodies. But down in the depths of the earth, the core of a hold still flickered with life. And when the storm finally passed, the holders clawed their way out and set about rebuilding their home.


    As the relentless beating of flesh on stone pounded in their ears, it reassured everyone that no matter how much they were pressed or what happened, Groth would be there, reorganizing and encouraging everyone to keep holding back the flood.


    He made them feel like this was no different than when he led them to dig a canal during a particularly rainy year to save their fields from being flooded. Or to keep the line of workers strong as they frantically rushed to clear the ground before the wave of fire engulfed the dry next to their home. Groth had been there in countless situations, leading them with steady confidence, and this would be no difference.


    Or, that was what he was trying to project to those of the Long-ear Hold, whether he was consciously aware or not.


    Matus had been mostly immune to the encouragement. He knew that a good leader could and often did be the sole difference between defeat and victory.


    If someone believed, or at least made their troops believe, that there was a real chance for success in the face of overwhelming odds, then they would fight harder. Hope breeds hope, and resolve creates conviction.


    He knew how bad the situation was. He had heard stories during his time in the region. Stories about legions defending burned-out fortresses and cities, who died to the last man.


    No, not even legions. It was the stories around the hearths of the remote villages at the edges of the Republic ¡ª the homes of the hardy, who would rather scrape a living out in the dirt with their own two hands than live under the eyes of those who think they are better than everyone else.


    And in those isolated communities, more than one had been found with hills of dead beastkins piled around their walls. Matus had personally seen the aftermath more times than he cared to count.


    Everyone spoke of the heroism of the fights and how they kept struggling to the end. But Matus knew better. He could imagine the desperation permeating every person. How it would become so thick that it could seep into the very stones beneath their feet and linger for years.


    Matus could feel the despair hanging at the end of his awareness. Pooling in the corners of the room with the shadows. But every time Groth passed by, calling out people by name and telling them how all they had to do was hold out for a few more hours, everything would be okay, it lifted the mood of the passage.


    It was always a few more hours. No one ever asked who was coming or how the Hold Leader knew because they feared the answer. They feared the pause before he spoke, confirming that he was lying to give them false hope.


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    So they kept on fighting. Not for themselves but for those below. The ones who couldn''t fight and depended on them to keep the monsters at bay.


    That was the thing about life. It will always struggle, even when the situation is helpless.


    And the situation had moved past that point days ago. Fighting intelligent and organized beastkins capable of tactics was bad enough, but fighting against congealed and animated flesh was another thing entirely.


    It wasn''t that they couldn''t kill the things or hold them back, but the cost for doing so was an enormous amount of psy. Psy they didn''t have. And there always seemed to be another of the quivering red masses slurping its way down the tunnels.


    "Matus, close the passage," Groth said from where he stood beside him.


    "Understood," he grunted back before slowly extending a tendril from his hand into the stone wall he was leaning against. Typically, a psy telekinetic tendril stops when it comes into contact with anything solid. Even liquids and air can slow it down to a stop, as the drag consumes more willpower and power than you would want to exert.


    But when it comes to a Knight controlling their chosen element, that law no longer becomes the case.


    Becoming a Knight isn''t exactly hard; it just takes an absurd amount of practice and dedication while having the luck to have a large enough psy pool. The first requirement is usually the main gateway.


    While it is sad to admit, people are generally lazy and with skirt work if they can get away with it. If you want to be a Knight, there is no getting around the hard work. That is one of the main reasons Knights, all Knights, regardless of birth, are generally respected. They earned their positions.


    The first step in a Knight interacting with their chosen element is learning how to shift their psy. How this is done is different for everyone because everyone views the world from a slightly different angle. For Matus, he thinks about all the different scents and tastes of the earth and then makes his psy match them.


    It might sound weird, but it works for him. As soon as they are the same, his psy can slide into soil or stone as easily as pushing a tendril out of his body and into the air.


    Matus never cared enough about the subject to ask a scholar why or how this was the case; he just knew that what he did worked. It had crossed his mind a few times to go to them over the years, but then Matus realized he would have to spend hours listening to them bluster as they said everything but the one sentence they could open and close the matter with, "We aren''t sure, but we have a lot of theories on the matter." Or that was what he assumed was the case.


    The thing was, shifting one¡¯s psy, while it was the first roadblock for those who set out on the path of becoming a knight, it was not the last. There were quite a few people out there who could shift their psy to match an element.


    The messengers of a legion were one of the best examples of shifting psy. The telepaths alter their psy to pass through forests, air, or walls, depending on their environment, and even project their pulses in unique patterns to better bounce off surfaces and expand to relay their message. But that was beside the point.


    After Matus first learned to shift his psy to slide into one particular patch of dirt, he had to learn how to shift his psy to enter another patch of dirt. And then a stone. And a different rock. Over and over and over.


    Just because you could push a tendril into a stone or patch of soil, that didn''t mean he could reshape the earth. Even two patches of earth that are close together can have completely different aspects. A dry, sharp metallic tang for a barren patch of sandy earth next to a rich, heady depth for fertile cropland.


    Even people of mediocre skill in casting and a small psy reserve can extend a tendril half a dozen feet. Take a six-foot square area of the ground, and from one side to the other, you can have a radical shift in the composition of the soil. Sure, that''s an extreme case, but not preparing for the unexpected happening in a fight ends with your death.


    It was theoretically possible to shift different sections of a tendril to manipulate multiple connected relatively small patches of ground simultaneously¡­ but that just wasn''t practical, and Matus couldn''t even think of a person at that level. And that wasn''t even considering that once you started shifting the earth around, all of its different parts started combining, thus changing the "flavor" of the sections of the soil until it eventually all mixed.


    Well, at least until the caster had to pull more soil from their surroundings, changing the composition of their casting again. Which was another point proving how impractical such a style was.


    The trick was to burrow down and find an overarching theme that linked the element together. For Matus, he found that all types of dirt had a gritty metallic twang to them. Once he realized that, he could shift his tendril and enter any kind of earth and stone.


    Not that discovering this didn''t have its own problems, as nothing in the world was perfect. The downside of using such a general aspect of the earth to manipulate it was that it wasn''t as efficient or responsive as when he matched the specific flavor of the soil.


    But if you wanted to make a fifteen-foot earthen man or make the surrounding twenty feet of the earth around you roil like waves in a pond, you needed decent control over a large area rather than perfect control over a fistful.


    Once you have spent a couple of years getting to this point through diligent practice, all you have to do is infuse an area of your element with your psy, which is a lot harder than one would think. The problem came down to willpower.


    The best example was a training tool for prospective Knights who made it to this point, which was swimming down to the bottom of a lake and trying to make an empty pocket using their psy. You had to form a shield and keep it rigid while it expanded against the increasing weight pressing against your shield. Just do that inside a section of the element you want to control.


    Once you have the area defined, you have to fill it in with your psy, like pouring wine into a cup. The psy would reinforce the structure of the framework of the shell as every corner was strengthened, and then you had to push a little bit more psy until it almost felt like you had to stop before the shell started ballooning outward. It might not sound like the best instructions, as it left a lot of wiggle room, but it is one of the things that you know when you feel it.


    The thing was, until you reach that critical mass of infused psy, nothing will happen. Exert all the willpower you want to reshape the stone; it won''t matter.


    But once you do reach that point, it will feel like the material is a third arm, and controlling it is just as simple as flexing a tendril. More than that, the psy usage is dropped to a fraction of what a tendril of the same size exposed in the air would be, and pure willpower can be used for all but the most drastic changes in shape.


    Should the elemental construct be damaged, however, and parts be knocked off, then the psy infused within the material will be lost, along with a bit more as it leaked out, which would vary depending on the Knight.


    The thing was, while a Knight could control a construct for a surprisingly long time and reshape it at will, they were not particularly good at moving from one elemental construct to another. If Matus''s casting was damaged beyond his ability to maintain, pulling out all of his psy and refocusing on another patch of dirt to create another construct would be nearly impossible.


    First off, pulling all of his psy out of a construct would be challenging as the psy would be locked into place like a stone in a wall. And even if it was pulled free, exposing it to air would cause it to break down several times faster than normal psy, and it took more willpower to keep stable. Typically, it was better to write off the psy when an elemental construct broke down, which frequently happened in a battle.


    This is basically a long way to say that Knights were like an eruption. All explosive energy that peters out fast. Great for battle when you need to stabilize a line or punch a hole in a formation, but not so much in a siege where there is only one old, tired Knight available.


    But it wouldn''t matter for much longer because this was the last time Matus could slow the relentless advance of their foe.


    As soon as those flesh creatures appeared in large numbers, the holders were forced into a steady retreat. They couldn''t keep them back. All because those cursed abominations were able to crawl down the air vents into the lower levels while more pressed the front.


    Without being able to focus their strength on a single spot, everyone was worn down quickly as they scampered through their sprawling underground tunnels. Only a few of their air vents were found, but that almost made it worse as people frantically checked every corner.


    In the past, their spiraling complex worked to their advantage against the beastkin. Long hallways, large doors, and multi-tiered steps with fortifications leading up and down into the earth. It was the cumulation of generations upon generations working to fortify their home.


    But with them being attacked from every direction meant, it all became worthless. No, it worked against them as they didn''t have the manpower to cover every area, and more than a few times, they were unpleasantly surprised. The only blessing they still had was that their high segmented ceiling, which was made up of thousands of tons of stone per section, could still collapse on their invaders.


    Matus had been able to trigger less than a quarter of the traps in their frantic rush to set up a stable position, as he lacked the psy reserves. And now, they were being pushed back to their last line of defense.


    This final block was larger than most, leaving little space between the old roof and its upper edge, forcing the beastkin to crawl between the two-foot gap, leaving them open to attack, but that mattered little.


    The beastkins weren''t the problem.


    Without any more room to retreat from the relentless advance of the flesh constructs, they would be overrun soon. But that wasn''t Matus''s concern.


    It was his job to buy a little more time.


    Reaching his shifted tendril along the stone pillar implanted in the wall, he found its end before claiming it as his own. With what little psy and willpower he had left, he shifted the middle section of the stone beam to its outer edges until more than half of it was gone. With a sharp exhale, like he was physically lifting a boulder over his head, he focused his will on the smaller section of stone, shattering the beam and causing the roof of the tunnel to collapse with a sudden grinding of stone.


    "We hold here, Long-ears!¡± Groth roared over the noise, his voice filled with grim resolve, "Nothing gets past us!"

 B2 Chapter 64

    "Are you sure this is the right way?" I asked, more than a bit of doubt filling my voice and wrinkling my brow. We were heading east along a mostly open hillside, avoiding turning towards the smoke-tinged northern horizon. I''m not against avoiding signs of fire by any means¡­ As my recent adventure of out-running a forest fire was enough experience for one life.


    But still, it felt weird not to even take a careful peak over the edge of the hilltop to see if there were any threats nearby or what the next valley over looked like. It''s hard to pick the best path to travel if you don''t know what''s around, but that was what Leeroy was for, wasn''t it? Maybe I was just uncomfortable, as I had never really trusted someone to guide me so completely since my father¡­ No.


    What bothered me was more than my insecurities, as Leeroy just seemed¡­ off. I didn''t know him that well, but he kept glancing around. But given what he could do, that could be normal. It was just that I couldn''t help but notice his eyes looked a little too wide, and his hands were kind of twitchy.


    And this wasn''t the steady swivel of scanning one''s environment but a jerky, panicked movement of someone being hunted. Normally, I wouldn''t have second-guessed Leeroy, given his abilities, but he has seemed off for a while now. Last night, as he joked around and ate, it might have been a little¡­ forced at times. However, again, it''s kind of hard to judge, given our limited experience with each other.


    We had set out from the cave hours ago after quickly smothering the fire and collecting our gear. From there, we traveled across the valley before making our way across the bottom of the opposing hill as we steadily walked up at an angle. Really, it was any old day of travel in a mountainous wilderness, except the hill we were moving along looked like it was starting to curve south slightly. If we traveled much further, I found it hard to believe we wouldn''t just be making our journey longer and more challenging for no reason.


    "Yep," Leeroy said, his voice filled with energetic confidence. "All we have to do is go this wa¡­" But as he spoke, the confidence trailed off, making his words unintelligible. He started turning around until his glazed-over eyes passed over the surroundings and them, until his upper body had almost turned all the way around, and he ended up looking to the west.


    "Ha!" grunted Jankans to my back before he took on the instructive tone of a master. "You haven''t experienced Leeroy yet, so you may not know, but you just have to step back and enjoy the ride. He could walk back and forth in the same hundred feet a dozen times before taking off at a right angle to loop back around the line we were just walking on, somehow avoiding the nearby search party. Just following and shutting up is for the best. You couldn''t imagine what we did while you were chasing us."


    I opened my mouth to reply that what he had just said was ridiculous, but I could only close it without a sound coming out. There was nothing for me to say. I might not have been with their group, but I have experienced being the search party Leeroy miraculously avoided. Over and over and over. Completely putting aside what I discovered about the man, that pain in the ass of a chase was enough for me to shut up and follow.


    ¡°Yeah¡­" I reluctantly agreed after a moment, choosing to ignore the snickers coming from the direction of a certain badger-kin who was ambling along nearby. "I guess you''re right."


    Leeroy continued to spin in place as he bumbled along the hillside like some country bumpkin walking through the gates of a large city. Turning on his heel and finally coming to a decision, Leeroy faced east, nearly bumping into me as he cut back, double-timing it up the hill. ¡°Ahh¡­ this way."


    Following along like a trail of baby ducks to their mother, the line hooked around to follow after Leeroy. After taking seventeen steps, Leeroy made another near one-eighty and started heading in that direction. And then he did it again.


    Looking over my shoulder, I looked back into the valley, half anticipating to see the flashes of clothes belonging to a band of Crescent Moon Kin who had suddenly come upon us. And now we were avoiding their line of sight by using a thick clump of trees. But I saw nothing obvious, not that I was really expecting to. If Leeroy was using his gift, I shouldn''t see anyone. But I couldn''t stop the growing doubt in the back of my mind.


    From what I could see, all we were doing was making our way up the hill by following switchbacks only Leeroy could see. It didn''t make sense why any legionary would willingly subject themselves to such an inhuman marching path without being ordered to. There were even a few times that he walked down the hill before returning to following his non-existent switchbacks over nearly the same area again.


    We continued walking in circles in such a manner until I looked around and saw a quarter-mile-wide area where we had all but matted down the grass as if a legion had marched over them. Before Leeroy came to a stop, spinning in circles.


    "Umm," I hesitantly said, "is this normal?"


    "No," Jenkins said, his voice tight, "I have never seen this before." Looking back at the others, I saw that everyone had unconsciously shuffled together and gripped their weapon''s hilts while looking around nervously. So, I guess it wasn''t just my imagination.


    Leeroy''s face was plastered with uncertainty. His eyes were wide, showing their whites as they darted around. His forehead had a slight shine of sweat, and his hands kept clenching and unclenching at his sides.


    Understanding what was happening in a rush, I stepped next to him, dropping my voice so only Leeroy and probably the sharp-eared kin could hear as I spoke, "Leeroy," and waited for him to look up at me. "This is new for you, isn''t it." Before he could deny my claim, I shook my head, saying, "I''m not talking about leading people through the wilderness, as you have been doing that for a while now. I''m talking about consciously leading people as you follow your instincts. You''ve never done it before, and now, you keep on second-guessing yourself in fear that you''re getting it wrong. Am I right?"


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    ¡°¡­Yeah," Leeroy muttered somewhat reluctantly, but his voice, while having a tinge of embarrassment, was also filled with relief as he rubbed the back of his head with one of his large hands like he was finally putting down a pack weighing him down for a while. "I just¡­ can''t be certain. Every direction just feels right and wrong, and it just¡­ I don''t know where to go."


    I nodded my head in understanding. "You ever thought about throwing a rock?" I asked, letting my voice and eyes drift off like I wasn''t paying attention to him, but I kept his dejected form in the corner of my eye.


    "Umm, no." He finally said after a few seconds when it was clear that I wouldn''t speak until he answered.


    "Well, it''s far more complicated than you would think," I said, falling into my instructor''s voice. I wasn''t a scout instructor long, but I found it surprisingly gratifying if a hassle. As were the handful of other times in my life that I had played at being skilled at something. Sharing my knowledge just felt¡­ right. "To do it well, you must plant your feet properly, twist at your waist, flex your core, cock your elbow before extending your arm without it being too stiff or loose, and let the rock roll off your fingers while never looking away from your target. Every task we perform on a daily basis can be broken down, and when it is, the steps will sound complicated. And yet, people do them without ever thinking about what they are doing. If they spend a moment to really think about their task and try to control every step, they will start fucking up as too much will be going on in their head."


    "So I''m overthinking it?" Leeroy asked after I stopped talking, sounding unsure.


    "Yeah," I said, "In short, you''re overthinking it¡­" Turning back to him, guilt squirmed in my gut, finally prompting me to speak again, "Which I must apologize for. I told you what you were doing, and while it may let you gain some control over your ability, it could also irreparably harm you. It could be that you will never be able to use your ability again, or more likely, you will only be able to use it on a rare occasion, but never when you genuinely need it. Idiot savants of casting abilities are called that for a reason, and telling them of their ability can cause more harm than good. So, I am truly sorry."


    With that being said, I bowed my head to Leeroy, causing him to become flustered and stammer out half-formed words as he reached out to raise me. ¡°No¡­ Uhh, Scou¡­ Green, there is no need to."


    "But there is," I said, "If I didn''t make it so you have all but lost your ability, how many of your comrade''s lives will you fail to save in the future, all because I didn''t keep my mouth shut. I was the one who knew, and I knew the risk, though I may not have remembered it at that moment. I was too irritated that you had dodged me for so long to put proper thought into my words. But with the past already being written, I suppose we don''t really have a choice now, do we."


    "What do you mean?"


    "Well, if you are incapable of leading us, I will just have to take over," I stated. "We might run into danger, get lost, or encounter impassible terrain, but any action can be better than inaction at times. Don''t worry, Leeroy, you no longer have anything to worry about, as nothing will be on your head anymore. Just agree with what I say, and it will be fine. "


    Putting my words into action, I turned and started walking straight up the hill, calling out to the others in an arrogant tone, "Leeroy is incapable of leading us so I''m taking over."


    Within a half-dozen steps, I heard the sound of the troops start following me, even if there was also the sound of a rushed muttered conversation between them. No doubt, asking Leeroy what was going on. It was only a few more steps after that when I felt a tendril probing my mind. Expecting it, I mentally reached out to accept the invitation and completely destroyed the tip of the foreign tendril and my own, "Oww!" I grunted in pain along with Optio Lun from behind me.


    My brow furrowing in confusion, I thought about what had just happened. It was like¡­ when you tried interacting with another person''s body. Or the mutual destruction of mana and mental energy. But it wasn''t mana, as Kanieta infused me directly with her mana before¡­ It was what happened when my mental energy was exposed to mana infused with the world''s energy.


    But¡­ that couldn''t be the case unless¡­ my mental energy is the same as mana now? No, I rejected the idea after a moment of thought. There is still a small difference between mana and mental energy, but when I formed the tendril, I didn''t exert the same amount of willpower I used in the past. Maybe if I¡­


    The rapid thoughts running through my head had only taken a few moments, and I quickly reformed another tendril, but this time, I fortified the walls of the tendril with my will until the world''s energy could no longer seep into it. Lashing out at Lun''s retreating casting, I touched the two together, this time not causing mutual destruction.


    "Sorry about that," I immediately sent, suppressing my thoughts on my discovery for later. "I''m not entirely sure what happened, but there was some kind of interference with a new casting technique I am using." None of what I told him was a lie, but it also didn''t really convey what had happened, and I was okay with that.


    ¡°¡­Okay," Lun sent, "It''s not really a problem, but try not to let it happen again; that was quite a bit of wasted psy."


    "Yeah, that''s my bad. I haven''t been in a union for a while and like experimenting with new casting techniques. I guess I have picked up some bad habits to sort out. So, what did you want to talk about."


    Accepting my explanation, Optio Lun asked, "Were you serious about what you said to Leeroy."


    "What did you hear?"


    "All of it; you weren''t being all that quiet, though I made sure the others couldn''t listen in. No need for them to hear that."


    I guess I really should have moved further away to talk to him¡­ Ahh, whatever, it''s for the best. "Yes," I said, letting some of my regrets seep into my message, "He could very well lose his ability. But that is not the only reason I told him about it and took over."


    "What is the other reason?"


    "To take the pressure and expectations off his mind while putting him in a situation where he can step up. If I can get him to do it once, he should be able to do it again."


    "Don''t we have better things to do?" Lun asked. "Like getting to the 14th?"


    "Yes," I sent back, "But I have little idea where it''s located and no idea what the fastest path to get there is. Not to mention, I don''t know where the Kin scouts are between us and them, but I am positive they are out here somewhere. With Leeroy unable to perform, me taking the lead would be the next best thing. And if we fix Leeroy, all the better, as he will save us some time. If not, it will only be a few dead ends and a couple of wasted hours before we arrive, nothing to be overly concerned about."

 B2 Chapter 65

    I would like to say I intentionally slowed our progress through the day, putting obstacles in our path that we had to backtrack around or climb over and through as we marched across one valley into another, but I would be lying. Which was kind of sad as we didn''t have to travel that far, at least if we could go by air.


    I will say that these problems were suspiciously well-timed, as if there were some kind of cosmic joke being played at my expense, but the idea of some supreme god singling me out to punish and toy with me was a bit of a stretch. I call kawrashit, that in all of existence, he didn''t have something better to do, so I was chalking it up to bad luck. Exploring always leads to running into something new. That''s kind of the point. The trick is not letting the "something new" be the thing that gets you killed or get discouraged when it doesn''t exactly work out.


    After cresting the hill that Leeroy was leading us in circles on, we found a narrow valley. Halfway down the hillside into the valley, we found a sudden drop-off. It looked like half the hillside was washed away in a mudslide, and the resulting loose dirt was so steep that it was closer to a cliff than anything else. We could have possibly made it down, but I would bet a month''s pay that someone would have lost their footing and started tumbling roll and ended with a broken neck when they stopped.


    Half an hour later, once we had detoured around the wound in the hillside, we found a safe way down. Only to find that running through the valley''s center under the canopy of trees was a thirty-something-foot-deep ravine with unstable sides at least twenty feet wide. We spent an hour moving along it until we reached a spot where the banks were narrow enough that a small tree fell across the gap, making a bridge. The only thing was we had to go one at a time, as the weight of one man was enough for it to bend and creak ominously, wasting more of our time as the clumsy legionaries shuffled across.


    The amusing part, or what will be the amusing part when I look back on this moment in a decade or five, was that we soon discovered we were effectively on an island, and the far side of the island had an even larger and deeper gap between the banks. Turning on my heel at the sight, I trekked back across the island and past the legionnaires without saying a word, only grunting and nodding to signal them to turn back as I headed to clamber back across the fallen tree.


    Admittedly, of everything, that one was on me. I should have been paying better attention and noticed the split in the river, then went to quickly check if there was a way through before everyone slowly came across.


    After about another mile of walking past the risky ravine tree crossing, the ravine all but disappeared, leaving only a small hop down into and then up onto the banks. From there, it was just another walk through the woods with wet boots until we reached the next hill.


    Where we found it wasn''t so much of a hill but a cliff waiting for us. Looking up at the thirty-foot rocky wall, I called out to those behind me, "I''m beginning to understand why this area is unoccupied."


    "You''re not leading us into these on purpose to punish us for something, right?" Jankens asked, sounding disgruntled at standing at the base of another obstacle.


    "Yeah," called a lean legionary to the side, who was leaning against a tree to rest while he waited, "if you wanna hurt me, punch me in the face like a man; don''t take it out on my poor feet."


    My lips curled as I felt a flare of amusement, "I gotta show you the wonders of nature; how else am I going to teach you how to appreciate scouts?"


    "Oh," the talkative legionary said, "I appreciate scouts just fine. You can always tell who they are as they''re never around when you need accurate information. And they always seem to be the new faces that appear in taverns with wild stories, only to disappear like a rancid fart in the wind when its time to settle the tab." Everyone let out a chuckle at that comment, as they had no doubt watched that exact scene play out more than once.


    "Don''t blame us that the only ones who can top our stories are the Knights. Maybe you should try doing something besides marching, standing in lines, and complaining if you want a decent tail. But with this adventure, I dare say that you can get your tab picked up at a tavern or two," I said with a smile before turning to the North and inspecting the cliffs to the west and east.


    ¡°Damn¡­" The man said, shock and wonder filling his voice, "That might be the best thing I''ve heard in weeks."


    "Even better than Scout Green telling us the legion is a couple days travel north, Quenton?" Jankens asked.


    "The faster we hook up with the legion, the faster we end up in a battle. If anything, his news was bad." Quenton complained, though it sounded to me like he just wanted to complain about something.


    "But we will have others to watch our backs and won''t have to take shifts on watch every night," Lun commented. "The security should count for something."


    "Which is why I''m not complaining." He responded like he didn''t just make one, "I''m just saying that it''s not all good. But someone picking up my tab? There''s nothing bad about that; now is there."


    "If only you had functional tastebuds and didn''t drink that dark ale swill. You might actually experience what it''s like to have someone jealous of you." Kelv cut in, earning "Oos" from the rest of the men.


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    "That might hurt if you didn''t turn your nose up at everything that wasn''t wine. But then that''s just the noble coming through."


    "I think we should go this way," I said, still looking up at the stone wall, cutting off the good-natured bickering, "It looks like the walls lower farther to the eas¡ª


    "No!" Roared Leeroy from where he stood on the other side of the group. ¡°Umm¡­ Sorry, but¡ª we¡­ can''t go that way¡­"


    "Hmm?" Quinton grunted in curiosity, turning to look at him. "Are you gonna take back over? Gotta say that might be for the best. No offense, Green, but when Leeroy was leading us, we never encountered obstacles like this."


    "None taken," I said, waving him off. I had more than learned how difficult it was to navigate without a map or pulses to help guide me. "I''m not deluded enough to think I can compete against Leeroy in finding a path in uncharted lands. Since Leeroy thinks we should go this way, let''s go."


    ¡°¡­No¡­ I-I di¡ª didn''t mean that we should go¡­" Leeroy stammered until he ended up in an incomprehensible mumble.


    Turning to look Leeroy in the eye, I said, "Leeroy, I have faith in you. They have faith in you. Have some faith in yourself." Then, I turned and started walking. But after a couple steps, I couldn''t stop myself from calling back over my shoulder, "But if we end up in an ambush and are moments from violent, bloody deaths, do the opposite of what you just felt, and we might make it out alive. No pressure, though!"


    Stifled snorts of amusement sounded, but they were quickly stopped or drowned out by our footfalls. While the others continued to talk among themselves, I kept a close eye on the cliff to our side.


    Was it a good idea to joke about us dying on Leeroy''s first genuine conscious recommendation? Only if he''s wrong. If he''s right, then I''ll just be the sarcastic asshole.


    And I was reasonably confident that he was right just from how he snapped at me. He sounded like someone who could no longer take watching the bumbling fool in front of them mess up and needed to correct them before they wasted more of his time, so I might as well take a chance. Even if he was wrong, and I just hypothetically rubbed salt in the crippling wound, Leeroy wouldn''t recover his confidence any time soon anyway, so I doubted it would matter much in the long run. Well, besides us going on an extra long detour¡­


    But I was confident in him being right, so I studied the wall like I was searching for a secret passage I only had vague knowledge of. He sensed something, and all I had to do was find it.


    The minutes ticked by, and everyone fell into the silence of companionable travel as most of an hour passed. Then, as we rounded a corner, I saw a large pile of loose rock broken away from the cliff face.


    A smile touched my lips as we walked around the rubble''s edge. From the sides, it looked like any other collapsed limestone wall. Looking at it head-on, there was a path through the jumble of stone boulders. A path that led to a flight of stairs.


    "Well," I said, "I guess we can be excited that Leeroy is working again."


    "No, we can''t," Jankens said, his voice grave. "He brought us to the base of a massive staircase. And there will never be an occasion to celebrate being at the bottom of a hundred-and-fifty-foot-tall staircase."


    "Shut up and move, Jankens," Lun said from the back, "The faster we climb up, the sooner we''re done."


    "Spoken like a true Optio," Grumbled Jankens as he started to move forward, only to be cut off as Franklin shot forward.


    "Ya lot up for a race?" He called over his shoulder, "I''ll even make it easier for ya, considering yar scrawny bodies, I have to make it interesting somehow."


    Snorting in amusement, I walked toward the stone steps, already feeling a phantom burning in my legs as the others jeered back at the kin, taking up his challenge.


    Two minutes later, I stepped off the last step and looked back at my companions, who were two-thirds of the way up the stairs. I couldn''t stop a smug smile from touching my lips as I watched them struggle. I would be right along with them, but a tendril exerting an upward pull on my harness the whole way made it little more than walking up a slightly sloped hill.


    And I didn''t even feel a speck of shame for wasting the mental energy, as I was spending it at the same pace I regenerated it. If a small expenditure of willpower allowed me to avoid the current huffing and puffing the legionaries were doing as Optio Lun pushed them forward from the rear, I was willing to pay the price every time. Apparently, they really didn''t want to lose to Franklin.


    While keeping up with me might have ignited the resolve to not be devastatingly shown up, it wouldn''t have put the passion in their eyes that was burning now. That was all due to Franklin''s challenge. More specifically, it was his handicap he chose to give them.


    Franklin was currently clawing his way up the stone wall next to their stairs while keeping up their pace. I had to admit it was impressive. Maybe no one intended to try this hard at first, but it had become a matter of legion pride at this point, and they were determined not to be found wanting.


    Turning away from the competition, I walked up the rest of the hill''s slope and blinked in surprise. A border of black and gray was before me, and from one step to the next, I went from the click of stone to the puff of ash being crushed under my foot.


    "Well, we made it to the destruction," I muttered as I walked to the ridge line. Cresting the peak, I saw the destruction laid out below me in the broad valley. From this hill, I could see two smaller ridge lines before the land mostly leveled out all the way to the base of Broken Peaks, which I thought I could make out far in the distance, though the smoke haze made it hard to be sure. Within the gently sloping rolling plain, many fortresses, surrounded by farms, dotted the land.


    Those fortresses closer to my charred hilltop all had burned trees and ash around many of the now-broken structures. But even with the once towering buildings being brought to their knees, some of the ruins still had warbands gathered around their shells, preparing to enter their depths. "Those are some tough bastards¡­"


    My words trailed off, and a smile spread over my face. I saw a formation of people with gold and red banners sprinkled within their numbers marching across the destruction far to the east. "Well, look at that. I guess we found t¡ª


    "Green," came Kanieta''s voice from next to my foot, causing me to hop to the side as I let out a small, high-pitched shriek. As I turned, half drawing my sword, I saw a black, semi-opaque fox that ignored my reaction to continue to speak in Kanieta''s voice, "I found the Crescent Moon camp, but they were already moving out. It looks like they are heading north, and if I had to guess, your nearby legion is their target."

 B2 Chapter 66

    "Is this what you call ''cleaning house.''" Said a venomously sweet voice off to the side of Panta, "I would think cleaning would require having a house at the end. What are the reports saying now? Half the Second Ring and all of the Third are burning?"


    "Only a half of the Third Ring and a small section of the Second Ring have been burned, Lady Ponpti," corrected Quineeta from where she stood across from Panta. She stopped talking momentarily, tilting her head to the side as she took a report and moved one of the figures on the large city map the Command Table had become, a street forward. "And we expected part of South Town to burn."


    "Ohh~?" she hummed in question as if Prefect Pompi had made an important point that made her think, "And did you also expect that your inhabitants would rise up against your rule? Have you made their lives so unbearable that they would rebel so openly?"


    Panta sighed as he looked down at the enlarged version of the Triad on the Command Table. It would be a gross misinterpretation of the map to call the events it represented anything good. It was a shitshow, plain and simple.


    While the fires in the second ring were finally put out less than an hour ago, that did not mean the fighting was over. The area where most of the fighting was taking place had shrunk to a handful of districts, but it was still as intense as when it had started. It just focused the fronts of the forces involved into smaller lines. And that assumed that any troops marching to those areas weren''t ambushed on their way, opening up new battle lines for a time.


    The only place Panta knew for certain was secure was a few blocks to either side of the main boulevard, and that was because the street was practically lined with legionaries acting as guards. It wasn''t that the legionaries weren''t clearing out the buildings as they marched through, but that tunnels were everywhere. And new ones were popping up all the time.


    If the legionaries went down the tunnels, they collapsed once a couple dozen men were inside. If they didn''t, the tunnels were an active threat and required guarding, which took up manpower that could be better used elsewhere.


    The only real option was to send Knights Terra around to collapse the tunnels, effectively playing a game of whack-a-mole. This wasted their psy and energies, stretching the knights to their limits with the incessant running around, preventing them from appearing on the front lines.


    As for the other knights in the legion, most of them were busy controlling and containing the spread of the fires. The rest were standing in reserve in case a break in the line needed to be quickly filled or were waiting for the orders of a concerted push to be given.


    Panta could call on the knights in the Senatorial Guard, but Legatus Hellieous was unwilling to offer up more than a few of his Knights. Even with the chaotic battle stretching over days, the 15th faced little chance of being destroyed or even badly malled with the current forces arrayed against them. All this fighting was only delaying them as it took an agonizingly long time to advance every step in retaking the city. A fact that was a thorn in the back of Panta''s mind that he could not help returning to and probing despite it not helping anything.


    On the other hand, Hellieous''s troops were focused on the Kin, and they noticed a lot of activity around their city and forts over the last few weeks. Recently, more warbands than usual were seen moving along the Rush and Twins, making Hellieous nervous that they were preparing for another attack.


    It was a legitimate concern, but Hellieous could have provided more Knights than he was without compromising his defensive readiness. Panta could try to force the issue, but it wasn''t worth the price. There was currently no blatant need to end this battle as quickly as possible, so if he tried to take direct command of the Senatorial Guard, The Senate could argue they had the right to remove him from his position for overstepping his authority. A position he had no doubt would be taken as someone called in favors in an attempt to gain all the glory of repelling the invaders for themselves. Or, that was how they would see it.


    The keyword in all of this is blatant. Every instinct Panta learned on the battlefields in his youth and the skills he gained slogging his way up the legion''s ranks by overcoming political rivals was screaming at him that the situation was not as it seemed. He could smell the latrine pit nearby even if he couldn''t see it, and the longer the scent hung around, the more confident he was that he would trip or be pushed into it.


    So Panta was pushing his legion as hard as he could without suffering unreasonable casualties, while the little viper by his side was just making everything more complicated. He had no doubt Shree Ponpti was the reason Hellieous was trying to draw out this battle without stepping over the line of open insubordination against a superior in a time of war.


    The only real choice left to Panta was to have his legionaries grind out the battle. Turning it into a bloody fight in which no quarter could be given or expected. A battle that was mostly being fought against the inhabitants of his city, which could never be construed in such a way as to make him look good. What made it worse was that the opposing side of this conflict seemed to want this fight to last as long as possible ¡ª which was another problem ¡ª making it nearly effortless for those looking for his downfall to paint him in a bad light.


    While there was some fighting in the Second Ring, most of what was happening within that section of the city ended up closer to a riot than anything else. It felt like roadblocks were on every street intersection, everything that was wood and out in the open was being burned, and mobs of gang members and even some citizens were running around looting and being a nuisance. It was not a real threat, but it stalled everything to nearly a crawl.


    The Third Ring was where the mindless puppets showed up in force. As his legionaries first made their way into the Third Ring, some of the fleeing inhabitants spoke of seeing people who looked like all the life had been drained away from their eyes and were marching in jerky unison, but everyone wrote it off as hysterics. Reports from frantic people within a battle didn''t hold much credibility.


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    The number of reports and mental images Panta had received supporting those supposed hysterics had long removed any doubts of their existence. In the next few weeks, Panta would have to figure out how the dark elves accomplished the feat of turning the population against him, but that didn''t matter right now.


    Whatever mental casting the dark elves were using was effective, especially when combined with the fact that they had also discovered a way to make it nearly impossible to sustain a Union within the entire fortress for an extended period. Which was practically a crippling feat all on its own.


    The main saving grace was that the puppets were not kitted out with the best armor or weapons, but their complete lack of fear, pain, or survival instincts meant that if they were not treated with care, they could inflict severe losses on the 15th. Which was another problem slowing them down.


    All of this came together to make them barely in control of the Second Ring, though they did have forces scattered around its area, putting out the proverbial ¡ª and literal ¡ª fires. As for the Third Ring, after three days of fighting, they had only cut their way through half of the districts the dark elves had claimed.


    And it didn''t help that every day this fight dragged on, and the bodies within Southtown mounted, the little ambitious serpent winding around his feet to trip him was making more noise about his incompetence. He would have to soon show her the consequences of overstepping her position. But that moment had yet to arrive, not to mention it would open up a whole set of problems he was ill-prepared to handle at the moment.


    Finally, turning from the map after long seconds of ignoring Shree Ponpti''s comments, Panta turned to look at the young woman. She was lounging in a chair placed in the corner of the room, one gold braceleted arm holding up her head and the other hand letting a goblet of wine loosely hang from her fingers. Her simple white rippling dress fell loosely around her figure, only pulled tight around her waist and shoulders by a couple gold chains and clasps.


    "You are as aware of the situation as I am." Panta said calmly, "They may be citizens of the Republic, but they are under mental compulsion, effectively making them living weapons. We do not have the time or ability to subdue them without casualties."


    "So you say," The Tribune Latic said behind the rim of her goblet, "I am not so convinced that we have to rush or that they are as far gone as you say. In fact, I have a ma¡ª


    Her words were cut off with a boom as the doors to the chamber slammed open, and a messenger scurried into the room. The messenger looked confused, glancing at the guards at either side of the door before hesitantly stepping forward.


    For the guard''s part, Panta caught them throwing glances at the Tribune Latic, small smiles twitching at their lips. It seems that I am not the only one annoyed with the woman. Panta thought with droll amusement.


    Before the woman could gather the wind back into her sails and lash out at the ones who interrupted her, Panta barked, "Report." It was rare for a messenger to arrive in person rather than relay the message telepathically. However, as a battle wore on and psy management became more essential, messengers who had to run messages up the chain of command but didn''t have critical news to report could be seen running about with increasing regularity. And in this fight, it was happening more often than usual thanks to its unique circumstances. Which might be a concerning prelude to what will come as we continue to fight the dark elves.


    Panta pulled his attention away from his dark thoughts and back onto the Senatorial Guard messenger as he finished his salute and started to speak. "A Kin messenger has arrived at the gates of the Northern Fort and requests to deliver a message from Scout Green. He will not deliver it to anyone but the fortress''s commander."


    As the messenger spoke the name of the scout, Panta noticed Quineeta perk up and snap her head at the man with narrowed eyes. He felt the name resonate with something in the back of his mind as well, but he could not put his finger on it.


    "Bring them to me," Panta ordered. "Whatever they have to say, if they are willing to come at such a time, must be important."


    The messenger saluted and dipped his head, but Panta did not miss his eyes shooting to the side to look at Hellieous, who gave a slight nod of confirmation.


    As the messenger turned and rushed out of the room, Panta threw out a tendril to connect with Quineeta, and he asked, "Who is the scout?"


    "He went out on a¡­ diplomatic mission," Quineeta responded carefully, even though they were in a mental link, and listening in was hard. But the face of the scout flashed in his mind and what he was doing, and he approved of her caution. Just because something was hard didn''t make it impossible.


    "Who is Scout Green, and why is he in contact with the beastkins?" Tribune Latic Ponpti asked, sounding annoyed she had to ask the question at all.


    "He came into contact with one of the Kin several times during their attack on the Triad and was given information as different factions within their people vied for power. We sent him to watch the Kin, and it appears they have contacted him again."


    Panta could see that she was skeptical, but he didn''t care. If Green sent them a message, it was important. As they waited, the room fell into an anticipatory silence. No matter how Panta''s mind might want to speculate on the content of the message, he pushed the thoughts aside and went back to managing the battle of Southtown, as wasting any of his time would only mean the deaths of more of his legionaries.


    When the messenger finally returned, he was accompanied by four legionaries, the Kin standing in their center.


    "You have a message for me?" Panta prompted the male Kin as he turned to face the man fully.


    The man, who had features suggesting a fox along with their tail, stepped forward and bowed, but the twist of his lips took away any of the implied respect associated with the action, like the man was mocking Panta. "Scout Green came across some information he requested we share with you. It appears that the Letairry have infiltrated and conquered the city to the east of here along the river. At the least, they have an army outside its walls and are engaging one of our factions along the river''s banks. Your 14th legion has abandoned their position, as they were cut off from supplies and are attempting to fall back along the forts composing the northern side of the Cradle."


    No one said a word in the room as shock filled everyone''s mind. The first person to speak was Shree Ponpti, who immediately rejected the words, "That''s impossible! I will not listen to such lies."


    "Is there anything else?" Panta calmly asked the messenger, ignoring the young woman''s outburst, his face blank.


    "Nothing from Scout Green," The messenger said, his lips curling with enjoyment more than Panta thought possible as he said the next part. "But I was told to inform you that a Letairry army is camped outside your walls under a concealing artifacts and will attack in the next couple of days at the latest."

 B2 Chapter 67

    Joxin crouched behind a large, erratically shaped stone, his head poking up over its edge as he looked down at a camp placed at the far side of a large cavern. As he looked out over the cave, he could not stop the snarl creeping onto his face as he inspected it. While the rest of the space was a maze of large rocks, holes, pointy cone rocks, and whatever else the natural rock formations were called when the two types of stone spikes became one, the camp was an oddly flat, cleared area with a large green glowstone lighting up it and most of the cave. Kind of stuck out.


    From his count, there must be at least three thousand creatures calling this place home, though most, if not all of them, were not around at the moment. While he couldn¡¯t count individuals, he felt confident in his guess as he studied the tents and the far smaller number of stone buildings in the camp''s center. He was getting the sense that those still here were just the guards. Maybe even a reserve, but that was impossible to tell as he could not see into the structures, and releasing a pulse was an idiotic idea when the goblins able to feel it.


    Joxin couldn''t say what exactly was going on in the camp. He hadn''t been here long enough to scope it out. And if things were going to go the way they had been the last¡­ well, he didn''t know how long, then they wouldn''t have the time to give more than a cursory inspection of the camp before they had to make a move.


    Depending on how you looked at it, Joxin and the others had either the best or worst luck of their lives during their time in these cursed caves. However, no matter how you looked at the situation, one thing was certain, Joxin was wrong. Horribly, hilariously, wrong.


    It was to the extent that he wished he had never learned the truth. As understanding the truth meant putting the sweet and blissfully innocent Joxin of the past through torture.


    After the ambush in the tunnel, where Joxin made the false claim of hating tunnels as he thought he understood what hate was. He did not. To hate something, you have to invest in it. An investment that takes time and can not come about quickly by its very nature. Joxin had now spent enough time in these caves to properly hate them.


    As they traveled down the tunnel away from the fight, hours passed, and it almost became a pleasant journey as the tunnel started to spiral slowly downward. So long as they ignored the fact they had been walking for most of the day, and their feet were screaming at them to take a breath. But the cool wind constantly flowing past on the unbroken path was nice.


    With the light from the suntorch, they were able to move at a brisk pace, but what kept them going were the hoots and pattering of distant feet echoing down the tunnel behind them. After a long time, they arrived at the end of the passage, where they found a guard post blocking the exit. After a quick and brutal fight, they found themselves inside a large natural cave, partially lit by clumps of glowing mushrooms next to small pools of water.


    Knowing they were being pursued, they traveled across the cavern, randomly picking one of the new tunnel mouths when they could not see any signs of a steadily traveled path. Moving from one cavern into a tunnel only to find another unoccupied cavern at its end, they trekked through the caves, becoming increasingly weighed down by the far-too-long day. After they moved through a dozen chambers without seeing or hearing any signs of their pursuers, the scouts stopped in the dimly illuminated by the mushrooms. "I''ll keep watch. You guys take a break." Sathera said, speaking for the first time in hours as she leaned against one of the cone rocks for support, her jaw clenched tight.


    Looking at the others and shrugging, they didn''t bother to argue with the obviously determined woman. Joxin moved to the other side for the rock from Sathera and flopped onto the stone floor while the others moved to her sides. Unable to stay awake on the surprisingly soft rock, Joxin drifted off into sleep.


    Eyes snapping open that night or day ¡ª they had long since lost track of which it was ¡ª Joxin''s mind was screaming at him of danger. Lying still, Joxin tried to figure out what was bothering him. The sudden spike in his heart rate corresponded with the realization he fell asleep on flat ground. Now, he found himself inside a suspiciously rectangular hole a foot below the rest of the cavern. A distance that seemed to be increasing¡­ Arms snapping out, he grabbed onto the ledge of the hole and pulled himself up to a sitting position, intending to jump to his feet.


    But the second he started moving, gangly hands and wiry arms exploded out from the cavity''s walls to claw and grasp his armor and cloak, keeping him inside it. "Ahh! Get the fuck off me!" Joxin screamed, unable to stop the surprisingly loud and panicky scream from tearing itself out of his throat and echoing in the chamber as he kicked and scrabbled against the squirming hands. As he felt himself being pulled back into the tomb, Joxin shot his right arm out, planting his forearms onto the top edge of the cavity, keeping his torso upright, but he couldn''t force himself to his feet.


    Even with his minor success of forcing a stalemate, the grasping clawed hands didn''t give up but worked their way up his body, trying to reach his shoulders and get better leverage as they labored to pull him back into the stone coffin. After what felt like hours of using his one free hand to rip off the hands clasping at his body over and over again, he finally remembered his knife. Snatching the weapon from his belt, he started cutting into the flesh of the wrists and hands with short, vicious stabs.


    Even with the weeping wounds on the arms, the hands still refused to let him go and continued to remain latched onto him, although half of them did shift to restrain his knife-wielding arm. Joxin''s hysteria-filled mind snapped into focus as he suddenly realized he was losing when the top inch of the stone tomb rippled. A moment later, the stone started to flow far too quickly for his liking inward, covering the top of the hole like a lid.


    If the stone closed around him and then solidified, it wouldn''t matter if his upper body was free. He would be trapped all the same. It would force his team to choose between letting him die or trying to break him free and potentially being killed themselves in the attempt. Because Joxin didn''t think for a second that his high-strung comrades could or would sleep through his fight. He was in no way being quiet with his constant curses and screams, with a few calls for help thrown in. As he spent a moment to think back on the last few seconds, Joxin was pretty sure he remembered hearing the echoes of shouts that were not his own. Which meant there was another fight going on.


    Continuing to strain against the hands, Joxin used part of his attention to gather half of what was left of his already drained psy reserves. Pushing the energy down to his waist, he held it around the outside of his body in a ring and waited. His heart beat frantically in his chest, and his muscles burned with the strain of holding himself in place, but his eyes remained locked on the line of earth he could just make out.


    The moment the stone stopped the barest fraction from his skin, Joxin forced his ring of flat psy to rapidly expand, his heart soaring at the sound of the stone cracking when the two impacted. The horror he felt when he looked down to see the cracks in the stone start to disappear as the surrounding material bled into them almost cost Joxin the casting. His shaken willpower weakened the psy construct, letting his psy leak out, and every moment, it was only getting worse as his focus crumbled.


    Gritting his teeth, Joxin sucked in a breath before screaming to focus his mind, filling his psy with his will to live and desire to help his comrades. The spike of willpower into his casting was heard instantly as his ring tendril pushed ever so slightly outward, cracking another section of the constricting stone plate. Then he reshaped his flat tendril of psy to fold around the layer of stone like the covers of two sides of a book.


    Once he stretched his psy forward a few inches along the stone, he grunted in effort as he flexed his will again. With a crack that sounded like the breaking of a sheet of ice, he folded the solid layer of stone he covered back on itself. But any plans he had to drive his body upward and out of the hole with the foot he managed to get planted under himself vanished as the stone his psy was wrapped around liquefied.


    When the stone changed, Joxin felt himself enter into a contest of wills as his psy and the other casters ¡ª as he now could feel six distinct entities controlling the stone together ¡ª made contact and began battling each other. Like water being poured into a fire, the opposing psy castings started dissipating in mutual destruction. It could not have been more than a second, and yet a third of the psy within his casting was gone, while his mind felt like it was being sucked dry of all thoughts and emotions as they were fed into the conflict.


    Gathering the last of his psy to send in to reinforce his casting in one final attempt at freedom, the stone abruptly became solid before shattering a moment later as his casting continued to push against it. No longer trapped by the grasping hands, Joxin''s body rocked before he fell back a few inches, landing at the bottom of the cavity.


    Even as he was catching his breath and trying to figure out what was going on, Joxin could feel the ground beneath his backside shiver, signaling he was about to be attacked again. Frantically scrambling out of the death trap, he would swear that he felt hands slipping along his legs, causing him to release a full-body shudder as he flopped onto the ground.


    After he scooted across the stone floor, putting more than five feet between him and his almost crypt, Joxin was finally able to look around and take in what was happening around him. The other three members of his party were in the middle of a fight as they beat back what Joxin came to call shadow goblins.


    Heaving himself up while keeping a wary watch on the floor for more stone goblins, the vicious little bastards, Joxin moved to help the others defend their camp, suddenly feeling weighed down by the pain from his cuts and bruises but still stepping forward while muttering to himself. ¡°Yeah¡­ don''t mind me. Not like I was almost buried alive over here. No big deal."


    With his appearance and a few quick slashes of his knife hitting nothing but air, the attacking goblins scattered into the cave''s gloom, leaving Joxin with nobody to take his frustration out on. Sucking in and breathing out a long breath at the anticlimactic ending, Joxin started glancing around.


    Studying the handful of bodies at their feet, Joxin groaned as he leaned down. With a few quick motions, he took a belt and the accompanying sheath off a goblin before grabbing a sword with a slight curve at the tip from the creature''s hand. The sword didn''t look like the best quality, as there was pitting and some rust on the blade, and the leather had a rancid smell, but it was better than the nothing he currently had. And it was almost the same length as gladius, so he should be able to wield it fine.


    "I see the sleeping beauty finally decided to get up and help the rest of us," Jim commented from the side, his voice laced with pain.


    Looking up at Jim, Joxin spoke while attempting, but failing, to keep the spite out of his voice, "Those little assholes were trying to swallow me with the earth. Nearly had me sealed in a stone coffin before I woke up. The only thing that saved me was I sensed the use of psy in my sleep. They were swimming through the stone and manipulating it like weak knights terra.¡±


    Jim blinked at Joxin a few times, then looked to Sathera and Bellous before saying, "Damn, that''s fucked up¡­ And just added a mountain to my concerns. Wonder why they didn''t just kill you? Would have been quicker and easier. Succeeded, too."


    "Because it would have been quicker," Bellous softly said, the assurance in his tone causing an uneasy silence to settle among them. A silence that was soon broken by the goblins'' shrieks and hoots ringing out of a tunnel across the cavern.


    Looking to the side of the cave where the noise was coming from, Sathera''s shoulders slumped slightly before perking up, and she said with forced confidence, "Grab your gear, and let''s move." Turning, she followed her own words, and they were soon forced to blindly flee down another tunnel, constantly hounded by the chittering sounds of numerous goblins in the darkness behind them. But the goblins stalking them wasn''t what was pressing them down. That was the knowledge that every step they took, they were heading deeper into the earth.


    After that attack, the shadow goblins consistently appeared, as hardly more than a few minutes passed without one popping up. However, they usually only bared their weapons and flashed their teeth before retreating.


    A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    On average, the shadow goblins had a larger stature than the stone goblins by a head, putting them about four feet tall, but most of that was a wiry build with no bulky muscles. The bastards also seemed to wear shadows like flowing cloaks, becoming all but invisible in the shadows.


    They also usually had some kind of armor and weapons, but that could vary between what was almost at a legion standard to ones in little more than a half-decomposed rag for a loincloth and a rusty chipped dagger. One thing that was obvious was that the ones with better gear were the leaders of every group¡­ kind of. It was just that calling the best-equipped the "leaders" was more than a bit of a stretch.


    More than a few times, Joxin saw the leader point their weapon at him and the others and garble something, only for his "troops" to turn on him. Sometimes, it was all of them. Other times, one would pick up a rock and bash in the back of the leader''s skull before scrambling to snatch the weapons and armor for themselves.


    Regardless of what kind of betrayal it was, it nearly always turned into a fight amongst the goblins as they clawed at each other in an attempt to claim the gear. And it was an opportunity that Sathera never let go to waste as she ordered everyone to retreat down a new tunnel.


    While the shadow goblins were a near-constant companion of their group, as it always seemed like one was around, skulking in the shadows, they were cowards. The light from the suntorch ¡ª which was never out of one of our hands ¡ª was usually enough to keep them at bay. And the times it wasn''t, a show of force would scatter them like the feral beasts they were.


    The only real problem we had was when the third type of goblin showed up leading the others. The bulky warrior goblins were a head and a half taller than their tallest comrades and had eyes gleaming with vicious intellect. When warrior goblins were around, the only way to make the lesser goblins retreat was to kill the larger ones.


    Until then, it was apparent that the malicious creatures were more afraid of their supposed brethren than they were of dying to Joxin''s new curved goblin blade sword. Which almost made Joxin pity them.


    Then, he tried to catch a quick nap while leaning against a nice narrow rock, only to wake up as he was shoved to the side by Sathera, narrowly avoiding the stone goblin''s claws reaching out of his bed to slice into his neck. Or maybe he found himself shying away from walls as a mixture of fear and hatred rushed through him, all but certain that a stone goblin would come bursting out of the wall at any moment. And then there was the memorable time he tried to take a shit only to have one of the little fuckers explode out of the stone between his legs and almost rip his balls off. Regardless of which one of the many traumas he suffered through, it always seemed those events happened right after Joxin felt the slightest pang of anything but hatred for the creatures inhabiting this cursed cave system. Maybe it was fate or just happenstance, but every other feeling other than hatred was burned away as the creatures always did something to set him back onto the right path.


    A path of loathing that had taken deep root within his heart.


    With the unmarked passage of hours tumbling by, they unwillingly plunged into the depths of the cavern. They were unable to make more than the most basic plans, as their pursuers were constantly harrying and harassing them from what felt like every direction. On multiple occasions, they tried to take a path that ascended, but what felt like every time, a group containing multiple warrior goblins would appear, forcing them to retreat.


    Force them to take a passage which carried them downward. Always downward, descending to another cavern and new sets of tunnels. No matter how a path twisted left or right, they stumbled along the dark and sloped tunnels, the screeches and chittered laughs of their enemies thrumming against their backs. Time after time, they moved from tunnel to chamber back to tunnel.


    Only for the shortest moments could they find a respite, but someone always had to stay up, protecting the others in their naps for the handful of moments they had before their march began again. Yet in all their travels, they never saw the same cavern twice as they continued on their seemingly endless descent into hell.


    Joxin wasn''t sure how long they had been forced to plod forward or how far they traveled in the hours of pursuit, but finally, they came to a large cavern with its edges filled with glowing mushrooms and hundreds of the upward-facing stone spikes. The center of the chamber was filled with so many stone pillars that it would be impossible to climb through them, not that it would be easy to get to them as they were surrounded by a deep ring of water. Even with only stepping into the cavern for a few moments, they could see multiple exits for the cave, many of which were wide and filled with the green glow of mushrooms, suggesting large caverns at their ends.


    Darting into one of the openings, they quickly moved across it, entering one tunnel and chamber after another without thought until they could no longer hear the sound of their goblin pursuers. Taking advantage of their apparent momentary escape, Joxin and the others settled down to catch a few minutes of rest. A few minutes that turned into hours where they were blissfully undisturbed, setting off alarm bells in all of their minds.


    It didn''t take long for Sathera to lead them back through the caves until they came to the water ring chamber, and they found their answer.


    Apparently, the goblins had done a great job of herding the scouts into the deeper sections of this cave network. A fact that none of them had the capacity to realize from their exhaustion-clouded minds until it was far too late to change anything about it. Not that they had many other options when looking back, but they should have seen what was happening instead of mindlessly running.


    A fact Sathera seemed to be taking poorly as she lay on the ground, silently brooding as they looked across the cavern. A large group of goblins were setting up camp at the mouth of the tunnel they had arrived through. As Joxin and the others watched them, it became clear the goblins had no intention of moving away from the tunnel mouth.


    "Should we try and sneak past them? Or fight past them?" Joxin hesitantly asked as he counted at least a dozen warrior goblins and twice that many of the other two kinds.


    "No," Sathera rejected instantly. "They''ll see or sense our approach. And there are too many for us to fight through. We have to find a way around."


    "And if there is none?" Joxin asked.


    Sathera shrugged, a tinge of resignation and despair in her movements and voice, "We will cross that bridge when we come to it. Bellous, stay here and watch them. We''ll go search the caverns."


    With nothing else to say, Joxin, Sathera, and Jim slipped back into the tunnel and away from the goblin cavern.


    It soon became clear why the goblins were content to leave them be. This section of the cave network was largely interconnected. Joxin took a single tunnel that split and looped back on itself so many times that it led to dozens of large and small chambers. And it wasn''t the only passage like that. Chasing anything within this section of the tunnels would be a nightmare and be begging to be ambushed. Not to mention, it didn''t seem to matter if the goblins chased them anymore, as no matter how they searched, they couldn''t find a single passage leading up. There were a few dark and narrow openings dropping to underground rivers or cramped chasms, but those were of little help. They weren''t at the point where they would plunge deeper into the unknown darkness in the fleeting hope of finding an escape.


    Days must have passed while they gradually mapped this lower network of tunnels, and they had long since run out of their stored food and water, but that ended up not mattering much. They had plenty of water, and Bellous had taken it upon himself to test something he witnessed the goblins doing.


    Much to Joxin''s dismay, Bellous lived, and they made the oh-so-critical ¡ª and yet horrible ¡ª discovery that the glowing mushrooms were edible. While it was keeping them alive and fed, the stupid mushrooms tasted like a wet piece of bark you picked up out of a marinade of swamp water, let it dry out, and then decided to dip it back into the water for flavoring. Joxin didn''t have anything against weird food, but eating something that you could faintly see through a neck when someone swallowed it was a line too far for him.


    The only good part of being in these cursed caverns was that the entire time they were down here, they never once saw the thralls, as they didn''t come down here for whatever reason. Not that they were needed.


    Joxin and the others had explored all of the nearby connected caverns they were confined in, and with every cavern and every day that passed with them still only having one possible blocked escape path, the mood in their camp was becoming grim. But if Joxin was being honest, most of the dark mood came from the shift in Sathera''s attitude. Her near-constant smile had disappeared, and she hardly spoke outside of giving orders.


    "The guards have relaxed their vigilance," Bellous said, "We may be able to rush or sneak through their camp."


    "And go where?" Joxin asked, "We might be able to navigate these caverns, but we have no idea how extensive they are above us. I doubt we could find the path we took to get here."


    "We could start picking them off." Bellous tried again.


    "That will only draw more of them¡­ it could even make them start hunting us," Joxin said as he held a mushroom, contemplating whether he was starving enough to put it into his mouth. "Besides, killing them will only alert them that we are still around. You already said they were relaxing their guard; it would be better to wait and see if they leave at this point. They might think we died down here of starvation, as we were too smart to think of eating the poisonous-looking glowing mushrooms. Or that we went into the deeper caves and fell into the underwater rivers."


    "If we try to wait them out," Sathera cut in, sounding defeated as she looked at the ground, "anything we have to report will be meaningless, assuming we find a way out¡­ But that could already be the case with how lon¡ª


    Rushing into the light of the suntorch, Jim called out with a massive smile on his face, "I found an air shaft! I think we might be able to climb through it."


    Head snapping up and fevered eyes locking onto Jim, Sathera snapped, "Take us there."


    Quickly packing up their things, they moved to follow Jim. They traveled through at least twenty caverns, entering an area that Joxin had never been to. "I spent the last couple hours trying to track a small current of air I felt," Jim explained, "but I was finally able to find this." Holding out his arm, Jim showed off a crack in the wall, which was no wider than his forearm. Then he turned to look at the rest of them with a wide, proud smile.


    Joxin couldn''t believe that this was what Jim was getting excited about. "Jim, you fucking idiot," Bellous grumbled, sounding disappointed.


    "How," Sathera said before Jim could speak, her voice taking on the edge of an internal struggle as she held the bridge of her nose with her forefinger and thumb, "are we going to be able to climb through that, Jim?"


    "Huh?" Jim grunted, looking at all of them in confusion before his face lit up with understanding. "Ahh, yeah. We can''t right now¡­ But the narrow crevice is only a few inches thick before it widens a lot. Just stick your arm in there and see for yourself."


    Moving forward with suspicion radiating off her like heat, Sathera walked up to the crack and then sucked in a long breath before pushing her arm forward. As her arm vanished up to her shoulder, her face brightened, a smile touching her lips for the first time in days.


    "Good Job¡ª No, great job, Jim," She said, clapping him on the shoulder, "Now, let''s get to work." Putting words into action, she pulled back her arm and punched the wall. Sathera''s fist stopped inches from the stone fissure, but her psy casting lashed out, hitting the stone wall with a crack that resounded through the chamber. As a fist-sized chunk of stone fell to the ground, along with a pattering of stone shards and dust into the air, Joxin and the others stepped forward to help.


    None of them wanted to stay in this horrible place a moment longer than required.


    An hour later, with over half of their psy reserves gone, they had widened the opening enough for Joxin to slip inside. After the new entrance, the crack widened considerably, and it was like he was inside the hollow trunk of a large tree. Except the hole continued farther than he could see into the earth, and he had to brace himself against the opposing walls to stay in place.


    Holding the suntorch and feeding it a slight tendril of psy and willpower, Joxin looked up, not seeing the end of the cavity. But he also didn''t see the walls suddenly shrink to a third its width. Tilting his head down, Joxin looked back at Sathera, who was crouched by the entrance, watching him with a mixture of anticipation and fear on her face. Giving her a broad smile, he said, "We might have a way out of here."


    "Might?"


    "The chasm goes too far up for me to see its end. I''m going to have to climb up and see what''s up there."


    ¡°¡­Okay," Sathera said with a resigned nod after a moment of thought. "Just be careful with the climb."


    "Here," Joxin said, stretching out his arm and offering her the suntorch. "It will just hinder me in the climb, and if I get stuck, it would be better for you to have it. These will do just fine." With his other hand, Joxin lifted the bundle of tied-together mushrooms he had at his waist, which gave off enough of a glow that he should be able to see a few feet in the dark passage.


    Reluctantly, Sathera reached out to grab the torch from Joxin, unable to deny his reasoning. Giving them all a nod goodbye, he said, "I''ll drop one mushroom if I find an exit, two if I get stuck." Then, he stood to his full height, briefly shaking out his arms and back.


    Looking up, Joxin planted his feet and arms on opposite sides of the wall and started shimmying up the channel, one small alternating step after another. Even with the help of a tendril pulling up, the climb started to wear on his body after the first thirty feet, and he felt himself breaking out into a light sweat.


    Time crawled by for Joxin, and he focused on raising one side of his body, then the other. It was all that mattered to him. He hardly even noticed gaining a few scrapes as he pushed himself through a particularly narrow section of the ascent. After a couple dozen near-silent curses for volunteering for this shit, Joxin found his eyes locked on a sickly green glow above him, and he found himself speeding up.


    It wasn''t long afterward that he found himself squeezing through a narrow gap in the wall and flopping onto a small ledge surrounded by rocks, with the best-looking mushrooms he had ever seen glowing at their base. Rolling onto his back, Joxin kicked at the mushrooms that had some kind of mesmerizing ability ¡ª which could be the only explanation for him being happy to see them ¡ª scattering them with his boot. Then he picked one out of the mess and dropped it down the hole, a smile touching his lips.


    He rested a moment before getting to a crouch and moving to the ledge overlooking the camp he was now watching. A camp that looked an awful lot like it had a spiral staircase winding around a massive pillar with a weird section taking up one side of its base. Joxin couldn''t stop a few tears from coming to his eyes at the beautiful sight. At that moment, he wasn''t sure if he would trade the vista of the staircase for anything.

 B2 Chapter 68

    "What''s the situation?" Sathera asked as she crawled out of the hole in the wall and moved to join Joxin and Jim by the stone outcrop. Joxin heard her movements, but he didn''t look away from his scouring of the camp across the chamber.


    "We have a well-established camp on the far side of this chamber that doesn''t seem to be alert," Joxin responded. "Looks to be a stairwell in their center. I haven''t spotted many guards in or around the camp, but there should be close to three dozen, half of them stationed around the stairs. But I have no idea how many are in the tents or buildings, and few have entered or exited them."


    "Between here and there?"


    "I haven''t seen anything moving in the shadows, for whatever that''s worth. The little bastards could be anywhere," Joxin said, his voice dripping with disgusted annoyance. "You thinking of making a rush for the stairs? Or we could find another tunnel connected to this cavern, should be one somewhere, and see where it goes." Joxin suggested their only real possible options but didn''t put much enthusiasm into his voice for the second one.


    "Not much of a choice there," Sathera sighed. "None of us remember the way back, and even if we did, that route is packed with our pursuers, which won''t go well for us. We haven''t found another viable exit from those caverns either. Now that we are out of them, the longer we stay in one place, the more likely we will be found and killed. It''s just a matter of time."


    Joxin nodded in agreement and didn''t say a word. They had many similar conversations while they were down in the deeper caverns. The only difference this time was that they appeared to have an exit placed within arms reach. It was a significant difference, but rushing into making any choice shouldn''t be rushed, as that would only make it more likely to get themselves all killed.


    Not that Joxin was against rushing for the stairs, as while it was surrounded by troops, it was relatively undefended. At least compared to the fewer but far more vigilant goblins guarding the exit to the cavern down below. There was much to be said about the element of surprise.


    "Should we wait until we know their patrol routes and sleep schedules?" Joxin prompted, getting to the heart of the matter.


    Indecision played over Sathera''s face, and she opened her mouth several times without saying anything. Joxin momentarily took his eyes away from the camp to look at the young woman and saw guilt filling her eyes, paralyzing her.


    Turning away from her and returning to his task, he said softly, "We don''t blame you for us being down here. We won''t blame you if we end up dying down here. We all wanted to fight the thralls, and none of us could have known how it would end up."


    Then Jim shifted, releasing a small grunt of pain into the brittle silence. While the bleeding had been stopped, his arm had become infected despite their best efforts, not surprising given a mouth had caused the wound. If you add in the climb they all just made, he was looking more warn than usual, yet he dredged up the energy to open his stupid mouth and say, "I''m kind of blaming you right now, to be honest."


    Joxin snorted in annoyance as he said, "You''re just in pain and mad that your arms are torn up with a chunk missing. Need I remind you that you are the one who made the choice to leave some of your gear behind? And if you believe strongly enough, you never know, the chunk out of your arm might actually grow back.."


    "I''m just saying¡­" Jim muttered as he went back to staring off into space, mostly talking to himself now. "She could have noticed my lack of equipment and told me to go get it."


    Sathera didn''t say anything as the two of them were talking, but she did let out a snort of amusement as Joxin brought up Jim''s arm. Finally, she said in a small voice, "I made the wrong choice. And look where we are now."


    "Maybe." Joxin acknowledged, "But we don''t know what was down the other passages. There could have been a dozen intersecting passages, and we could have ended up at a dead end, waiting to be overwhelmed. We could have made all the right turns and still ended up surrounded and cut down in the center of one of their bases. Or we could have already made it back and reported on our mission with all the information we discovered. We don''t know what could have been. In the future, you can look back and learn from your mistakes. But right now, all of us are still alive, and that''s all that matters. We are alive, we have a chance to get out, and someone needs to make a decision. Because I know doing nothing will get us killed. It will just take longer."


    Joxin could feel Jim and Sathera staring at him with wide eyes at the end of his little speech, neither of them saying anything for long seconds. It can''t be that much of a surprise, he mentally grumbled. It wasn''t like she didn''t already know everything I said. It''s just that sometimes someone else needs to come along and point out the obvious to get things moving.


    Before now, there was no real point in bringing up or discussing Sathera''s fault in their circumstances. What was done was done, and bringing it up when it looked like they would all be killed when the goblins finally got around to it wouldn''t help anyone. In fact, it would only increase their odds of death as resentment within their team formed. And they all knew that when they were running or fighting through the caverns, they had no other options. What did a right or left turn matter when you had no idea where either went and were more concerned about what was sneaking up behind you?


    But with an actual, tangible hope for life before them, all of the doubts plaguing Sathera had burst forth. And now was not the time for her insecurities. She needed to make a choice and accept what may come. The sooner she made a decision, the better, as seconds could be the difference.


    "What''s going on up here?" Bellous asked as he crawled out of the tunnel, looking at all of them in turn. "The air feels weird."


    "I would think so," Jim said, amusement filling his voice, "Joxin chewed Sathera out, trying to sound smart, and told her to ''get her shit together.''"


    "I did not say that." Joxin snapped back.


    "Paraphrasing here. Why would I want to remember all of what you said?"


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    "Because it would make you sound smart."


    "I used the word ''paraphrasing,'' didn''t I? How much smarter do you want me to be? Not everyone can have a stick up their ass all the time." Jim joked back, a smile audible in his voice.


    "We have to go now," Sathera said, cutting off their banter. Her tone had more than a touch of uncertainty, but she was gaining more surety as she spoke, "Someone will stumble upon us before long, even if the noise of us breaking into this crevice didn''t draw attention. No, we can not stay here, and the sooner we start making our way over to the camp, the better. And most of all, we need to report what we have discovered."


    "Understood," Joxin said, no opinion coloring his voice. She had made a decision, and while you could spend hours debating the pros and cons, in the end, he didn''t care. One way or another, he wanted out of these caves.


    Joxin accepted that death could claim him at any moment long ago when he was still a plain legionary, and he still decided to sign up for another tour to become a scout. Instead of worrying about it, he would rather just walk the path laid out in front of him and see where it takes him while enjoying the ride.


    Pushing away from the rock, Joxin tilted his head to the side and said, "I spotted an easy path Jim should be able to climb down over here."


    As he silently moved through the cavern, he caught the slightest scrape of cloth over stone behind him before the only thing he could hear was the drip of water and the distant murmuring of life from the camp. Going purely by the noise, he would have guessed there was no one following along behind him.


    Just as it should be for scouts moving through hostile territory.


    Climbing down from the ledge they were on, Joxin and the others started moving across the long chamber like they were just one more flickering shadow. And the shadows were thick on this side of the cavern, as while there were a few patches of mushrooms, they were few and far between, meaning most of the light came from the large glowstone in the center of the goblin camp. Making it only harder was that with how close they were to the enemy and trying to sneak up on them, they couldn''t use the suntorch, Joxin even warning them to turn it off before they came out of the fissure.


    The cave floor was covered in dips and rises, making every step have to be taken with care so as not to twist one''s ankle or send a loose stone skittering over the floor. Some of the depressions in the stone were even filled with water from small streams, making moving without any noise even harder in the dim light.


    As they began moving along the half-mile-long oval cavern, Joxin noticed features he had glossed over and ignored earlier. Kind of important ones, like a strip of flat ground running down the cavern''s center before turning sharply to the right wall and a tunnel mouth hidden from his previous vantage point.


    He noticed the gaps in the stone pillars, but he just assumed the¡­ the stal¡ª whatever Sathera called the cone rocks, just happened to form that way. Like how there just happened to be a big¡­ stupidly massive cave complex under the Triad. Which, according to Sathera, was simple.


    As she put it, back in the day when the Republic was still trying to expand while holding off waves of beastkin numbering in the hundreds of thousands every few years, they could not afford to spend time moving around large amounts of hyper-condensed stone to build forts. For any construction they attempted, they needed a local source to pull from.


    This means that even with its excellent positioning between Cross and Basetown, it wasn''t enough to place a fort here without natural resources to start and finish building it quickly. Apparently, a spur of the Steps used to extend out to where the Triad now stands and formed something of a large stone plateau overlooking the rivers.


    The legions of the past used the abundant stone source to create the Triad and formed a plate underneath it to prevent anything from burrowing under its walls ¡ª which didn''t seem to work out well from Joxin''s point of view. With a large amount of solid stone next to a river, the water leaked into the ground and rocks, wearing them away and slowly forming these caverns, according to her. Whether Sathera was correct or not, Joxin doubted the builders of the Triad cared enough to take more than a casual look into the extent of the structure underneath their fortress. Otherwise, they would have tried more to seal it off or take advantage of it.


    Or it could be that they did know, but it was too much of a task to undertake at the time, and before they could come back to it, the knowledge of the caves was forgotten. Forgotten to everyone but their enemies, as these caves were filled with goblins.


    Anyway, given Joxin''s new point of view, it was unmistakable that there was a road leading to this camp from somewhere lower in the earth. Which seemed like a big deal and a future problem.


    It might be interesting to follow the road and see where it leads, and they should definitely report it, but Joxin really couldn''t care less about it at that moment. Angling to the left, away from the road, in case anything happened to be moving along it that he missed, he moved parallel to it while skirting the cavern''s wall.


    Common knowledge put it that having a wall taking up one of your sides made it easier to track everything around you¡­ But that was a damn lie. As they had all learned in this hell hole, having you back to a wall only gave the goblins a false sense of security to play with, as they had another angle from which to launch a surprise attack. Given no one knew they were around¡­ it should be fine. Yeah, it''s gonna be fine! Joxin thought, trying and failing to reassure himself.


    As they entered a section of the chamber that was darker than the rest as a thick patch of cone rocks moved between them and the ethereal green light, Joxin extended a tendril out of each foot.


    He formed them into a dome. Every time his foot came down, the dome hit the ground a few inches before his foot, as gentle as a feather hitting the ground. When he was sure nothing would move, he pressed it tight to the ground and solidified the shell, preventing the sound of his footfall from escaping.


    It wasn''t perfect. If it hit a surface or water hard enough, it would still make a sound even if his foot didn''t, but that was where you needed the basic skills of a scout. What did it matter how skilled you were with casting techniques if you were unable to move your body correctly?


    When you get really skilled, Joxin heard you could reshape the shell as it was coming down to slide around anything it was about to come into contact with and even test the surface your feet were about to touch, but that was beyond him. Joxin just wanted to prevent any sound of a rock he accidentally kicked.


    And it was a good thing he did, as his feet did make contact with precariously positioned stones. Not that they didn''t fail in the darkness, as Joxin and the others also splashed into puddles several times, leading to long seconds where their hearts pounded in their ears, and they released internal screams of frustration while trying to calm their hearts as to listen past its thundering beats.


    All in all, they made good time when crossing the chamber, though the stress of being noticed before they were ready to make a break for the stairwell might have taken a few years off of Joxin''s life. But now they were gathered together, no more than a stone''s throw from the outer rings of tents, looking at their target.


    "Wait here a few seconds," Sathera ordered, "Look for any nearby patrols. We will move one at a time to a new position and hide in the thick shadows, scouting out the area before moving to the next spot. And we will need to form a¡­" She trailed off, a frown of confusion making its way onto her face.


    "What''s wrong?" Joxin asked, suddenly looking around for danger.


    "I tried to make a mental link." Sathera said, "But my psy was blown away like a hand full of dust in a strong wind."


    "It''s been like that since we basically came down here. It just eats up too much psy to maintain." Joxin countered, not really paying attention.


    "Not like this. I couldn''t even reach you with a telepathic tendril before it dissipated."


    Joxin opened his mouth to speak, but Jim cut in, "You guys hear something?"


    Stopping and listening, Joxin was about to say he heard nothing, but he said nothing as he noticed a faint, steady thudding from behind them. The thudding of large, deep drums.

 B2 Chapter 69

    As they stilled, tilting and twisting their heads to discern the faint sound, Sathera felt the blood drain from her face as a fist clenched her heart in an iron grip. The world around her slowed, and all sound but the distant pounding of drums faded from her ears. Faint as the noise should have been, every beat became like the clapping of thunder.


    I did it again, she morosely thought, her mind laden with self-hatred and regret. Her gaze swept over the suddenly anxious Joxin, Jim, and Bellous before glancing back across the cavern they had just traversed. The stalactites and stalagmites sprouting from the cave roof and floor, along with the slight divots, whispered of cover as a damp wind brushed over her cheek. It was like the cavern itself was offering to conceal them. In that moment, the cave suddenly transformed into a gaping maw. The walls flexed like cheeks, and the stone spikes gnashed like teeth grinding out biting words of security. But its protection was a lie. A trap that would see their blood spilled onto the cold, uncaring stone, all because I made the wrong decision.


    While the light was dim and nearly nonexistent for Sathera and her team within most of this cavern, the goblins had already proven that even the slightest amount of illumination within these caves was like being under the noonday sun for them. On the delusional hand, her assumption could be wrong, and it was entirely possible for them to scamper out into the cavern and hide forever. Part of her mind was praying to her ancestors for the dream to be made into reality, but that desperate hope came from the small, muted part of her mind that still wished she could return to the ignorant bliss of a child.


    But reality was often cruel, and she knew in her heart that the drums marked the progress of thousands. Enough, Sathera would presume, to fill this camp to bursting. Maybe the first few centuries or the entire first cohort of the force would miss them. It could be the whole first half. Sooner or later, however, they would be forced to move, and at that moment, they would be spotted by a goblin who happened to be looking in their direction. Or it could be that some will be sent out on the pointless task of patrolling a cave as a punishment, and the offenders of superiors would stumble over them.


    They couldn''t go back.


    Soon, those in the camp will realize that someone is approaching them. And they would start to¡ª


    Twisted to the side, Sathera found herself looking into Joxin''s burning eyes, ripping her attention back to the present. He leaned so close to her that the stubble on his cheek brushed against hers as he whispered into her ear, his voice pitiless, "Make the choice. Or I will."


    His words were like a slap in the face, and Sathera''s thoughts snapped into focus as the world lurched into motion again. Without a second of thought, she spun in place and said, "Follow me." Slipping forward, Sathera covered the short distance from their stalagmite cover to the outermost ring of tents.


    Head sweeping along the line of tattered, mostly rectangular ¡ª as she saw many of them that the erectors didn''t bother to pull tight or tie off properly, leaving them half collapsed ¡ª propped-up pieces of patched and stained black cloths, she saw there were a couple feet of bare stone between each. Slipping into one of the openings, Sathera crouched down and moved to the far edge poking her head around its side and taking a second to look up and down the row, seeing nothing but more of the haphazardly pitched ''tents.'' A sight that, every moment she spent looking at it, convinced her further that the hovels didn''t deserve a title as grand as tents.


    Turning her head, she looked back, seeing the others stacked up behind her. "Pat my back when you are ready to move," Sathera ordered in a whisper, receiving silent nods in response.


    Giving the row one last look, ensuring it was still clear, Sathera kept herself in a crouch ¡ª as the tents were too small to conceal them otherwise ¡ª and darted to the next row deeper into the camp. Her head swiveled from side to side as she moved, never stopping her search for enemies.


    Sathera''s heart was pounding in her chest, and she was amazed all the guards in the camp weren''t running to intercept them. Because, from her estimation, the noise should have been audible throughout the whole cavern, if not the cave system, as it thundered in her ears. And yet, they moved across row after row of tents quickly and easily.


    The fact an alarm was never raised or that she never saw a single stringy, oily hair of a goblin only made it worse for Sathera.


    Her head was constantly moving, and every time they moved from one row of tents to the next, she was taking slightly longer to move again as she slowed down. Something in the back of her mind was screaming at her that this was all wrong.


    And to make it worse, though it might be her hyperactive imagination, it felt like some psychic force was pressing against her mind with every step she took, giving her a minor headache. Well, it wasn''t only that. Something else was bothering her, and without being able to realize what it was, her mind was coming up with all kinds of wild fantasies.


    Like this was all somehow one massive, elaborate trap, and sooner rather than later, it was going to spring close on them. Yet it never did, and probably couldn''t as that would take¡­ The silence of the camp all around her finally made it past the throbbing base of her heart, and Sathera understood.


    No trap was closing in around them because no one was around to spring it. The tents were empty. If not all of them, then at least the majority of those around the outer edges. Which made complete sense with the enemy force approaching. The goblin must have sent forward a small force to prepare the area for the larger host to occupy.


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    That was something she should have immediately noticed and put together, but in her defense, she had been a legionary for too long. If you live in a legion camp long enough, all the sounds and smells of life that accompany it become second nature, to the point where you don''t even notice what you are hearing until they are gone. There is always someone sleeping, which means snoring. The smell of food and the accompanying fire should be fighting against the rank smell of unwashed bodies, and the clanking of steel and shouted orders should be reverberating from all around. But just because you know what you should be hearing and smelling, and your subconscious notices it''s not there, it doesn''t mean your conscious mind will, especially with other important matters distracting you, like surviving.


    This camp had none of that, and it was making her feel¡­ like she was standing out in an open grassland surrounded by snarling predators despite huddling next to empty tents. Sathera was half tempted to slip around the side and push open a flap to see if someone was inside. Stopping herself before she could act impulsively, Sathera gave one last look at the current row they were on before moving to the next.


    Satisfying her idle curiosity wasn''t worth the risk of someone actually being in there. One scream would be all it would take for them to be surrounded and cut down before they could make it to the stairs. But with the realization, Sathera was able to keep a steady pace without her nerves wearing on her mind.


    Minutes passed as they slowly and steadily moved along the tent rows, as even with this section camp being nearly empty, Sathera still didn''t rush forward. While there might not be any goblins in this area, they knew for a fact that there were some in the deeper parts.


    So they slipped from the outer edges of the camp to the border of the middle section, which was an easy guess to make, as they were at the edge of a fifteen-foot section of bare stone separating them from the next row of tents. And these tents actually deserved the name, compared to the patched and worn-out cloths making elongated pyramids they were currently huddling next to.


    Instead of being stained and slightly smelling of decomposition while half-heartedly constructed, the next row of tents looked brand new and immaculate. The tent materials were a shiny, shimmering black, and all of the tent poles, stakes, and lines were correctly placed, keeping the cloth taught. If someone had painted a building-sized sign saying ''difference in status,'' they couldn''t have made it more apparent.


    Reaching back her hand, Sathera clapped Joxin on his shoulder, then extended a telepathic tendril out of her hand, attempting to connect with him. It took less than two seconds for her to extend the tendril and for Joxin to accept it, but Sathera could feel the edges of her psy construct being ripped away in that time.


    It was like someone was taking a rough sandpaper and frantically scrubbing it around the tendril''s surface. Sathera had never felt anything like it. Even at the edge of the camp, it was more like a strong wind that she didn''t expect had come along, causing her casting to be ripped away like an umbrella. Now, Sathera was actively reinforcing the tendril to keep it intact.


    And even when Joxin connected, it wasn''t like her psy and infused will stopped being eaten away. It was just that it slowed to a greater extent with the extra willpower to reinforce the casting. The change didn''t go unnoticed by Joxin either, as Sathera felt his own surprise and annoyance as he had to use more of his will than he expected to keep the connection stable.


    "You were right, Sathera," Joxin sent as soon as a stable link had formed. "This isn''t like before." He flicked his left hand out toward the ground, a frown appearing on his face. "Something is definitely going on. It''s also affecting a telekinetic tendril."


    ¡°That¡­ is serious." Sathera sent back, hesitant if they should spend the time searching for answers. Then, she discarded the thought, as it wasn''t her job. Her role was to get back and report information while preserving the lives of her men, if possible. Taking on an impossible mission fell into the area of the knights like the Molten Man or the Steel Golem. Reporting this occurrence should be enough. Right? No one answered her silent plea, leaving her to wallow in her own uncertainty.


    After making the decision, hesitant as it was, she moved on to what she wanted to talk about. "We are entering a more populated area of the camp," she stated, getting a flicker of agreement in response. "When we get spotted, we will rush for the stairs. Tell the others not to fight if they can help it and keep moving; speed will be our only friend at that time."


    As she pulled her hand back, Joxin nodded in response, then shifted to grab the others and relay her message. Putting them out of her mind, Sathera turned to watch the dividing line between the outer and middle camp. She could see guards placed to the far right, at least a couple hundred feet away, standing at the intersection of a wide road moving perpendicular to the dividing stripe.


    Given the distance, the guards shouldn''t notice the scouts so long as they were fast enough, but nothing could ever be certain. They could only try their best while relying on their training and hoping it would all work out. Everything else was up to the gods. Not seeing anything new, Sathera let her eyes glaze over and listened.


    The beating was noticeably louder now. It was so loud, in fact, that it hardly even took Sathera a second to pick out the noise over the sound of air rushing through the chamber and thousands of droplets of water splattering against stones. The boom, boom, boom, of a steady, unrelenting cadence. A noise acting as a harbinger. Daring, threatening, pleading for someone to take up its challenge. To block its path so the thuds could pummel the blood of its foes into the stone as it passed over their broken bodies.


    Sathera blinked, ripping her mind from the line of thoughts and suppressing the feeling to turn and charge at the drums behind her. Drums carrying a casting that was as subtle as it was insidious, worming its way into her thoughts, pushing her to act rashly out of fear and arrogance rather than from controlled logic.


    As Joxin''s hand impacted her shoulder, she jumped slightly before extending a tendril to him and sent, "Don''t listen to the drums. There is a mental manipulation casting woven within the sound."


    She felt his shock and fear at her statement and the certainty and barely suppressed fear that filled her mind. In reply, he simply said, "Understood," in a flat tone, as she felt him start constructing a shield around his mind. The focus on maintaining such mental defenses might cause him to make mistakes, but a small sound was far better than having someone she was relying on being mentally manipulated.


    Receiving another pat on the back a few seconds later, once Joxin relayed the latest message, Sathera rose from her relaxed squat, only to freeze in place as screams of anxiety and barks of command washed over the camp like a wave. What sounded like hundreds of voices rose all around them, and an overwhelming certainty that they had been found locked Sathera in place.

 B2 Chapter 70

    After the initial shock at the explosion of activity, the anxiety and stress of the last days reached a peak before all of her emotions seemed to bleed away from Sathera''s mind, leaving it blank. Vacantly, Sathera spun in place, searching for the bringers of death, her boots scraping against the stone. As she completed a full rotation, a flicker of optimistic suspicion ignited within her mind.


    Rocking forward, teetering on the tips of her toes, Sathera''s head shifted from one side to the other as she continued to search for the goblin who spotted them, only to fall back on her heels after a few long moments as she still found nothing. Something is wrong here.


    Half turning to face the others, Sathera signaled to them ¡ª as they nearly tumbled over each other in their haste to start moving ¡ª to stay in place. They looked at her with bewildered apprehension, as she had just told them moments ago to be ready to run when the alarm was raised, but her eyes darted around as if she would confirm her suspicion with a quick glance before she mouthed the words, ''Not us.''


    Her statement was proven true as a minute slowly clawed by, and while the chaotic noise never stopped, nothing approached their position. As she poked her head around the side of the tent to look at the guards standing at the intersection, her heart skipped a beat. There were now eight guards standing in the corners facing the outer camp where there used to be half as many.


    For a moment, she thought she had been wrong ¡ª again ¡ª and they were forming a perimeter around the scouts before closing it. But with a quick look around, she saw no one else. And the guards looked¡­ like they had become statues.


    They stood like posts buried in the ground, their right arms holding a spear parallel to their bodies just to the front and side of their feet, and their left arms held a small shield raised to put their forearms at their bottom ribs, covering most of their chests with the wood and steel. Seconds passed, and their heads and limbs never moved as if they were welded into place. It was such a dramatic shift from the lackadaisical lounging they had been doing a moment before that Sathera had to spend a few moments just taking it all in. They weren''t looking for anything. In fact, Sathera knew what they were doing well. The goblins were standing in place, hoping with the whole of their shriveled little hearts that their superiors would pass by without noticing or commenting on them. There was no such thing as good attention from a superior as a grunt.


    Then, a smile spread over Sathera''s face, and she had to stifle a bubbling laugh of relief from bursting from her throat. Quickly dropping onto her heels, she pivoted, turning to offer Joxin her hand. He reached forward, grabbing hold of it while shifting to act as a bridge to connect to the other two as well. As soon as the network was established, Sathera began speaking into it, not even trying to hide the dry amusement in her mental voice, "They are preparing for an inspection."


    The amusement was mirrored by the others after a beat, with Joxin''s mind practically screaming that he hoped they would fail and be punished. It was a sentiment she was finding it hard to muster the emotions to be opposed to, a fact she felt a flicker of shame for. "This will work out great for us. While everyone in camp might be moving around, they won''t pay much attention to a few more shadows flitting about when they are busy doing their assignments."


    The other three agreed with her, having experienced what it was like when a high-ranking tribune suddenly came to camp. Everyone had to scramble to ensure all the equipment had the tiniest specks of rust scraped away and polished to perfection, along with all of their other equipment being oiled and polished. It didn''t matter how well-maintained you kept your gear; you would be ordered to recheck it countless times during the lead up. The goblins didn''t seem to be the most organized or forgiving of people either, which was a pity as forgiveness should not be rationed like a miser, but it should mean they were even more desperate not to be noticed.


    Throwing one last look to the guards at the intersection and a glance down the other side of the divide, still seeing nothing in that direction, Sathera sucked in a breath and focused her mind. Rising to a half crouch, she glided forward, stepping into the gap.


    A chill of anxiety ran over her body like she was stepping into a cold waterfall as she was exposed, but Sathera didn''t let it affect her movements as she traversed the distance in seconds. As she stepped into the space between the far better tents, she stopped before turning to look at the guards again, seeing that they hadn''t moved in the slightest.


    Sathera didn''t know if it was her skill or their overwhelming fear of being caught away from their posts as they inspected some movement to the side, and at the moment, she didn''t care. The goblins were making this easy for them, which was a surprisingly nice change.


    Waving to Joxin, Sathera signaled him to come across. She watched him take his first steps across the dividing gap before she turned and walked along the tent to its far side. Sathera couldn''t help but notice that it was a whole step and a half longer than the tents in the outer area.


    Coming to the tent''s edge, Sathera was struck again with the difference between this section of tents and the last. Instead of iron or steel, the poles and pegs that were buried in stone and kept the tent from collapsing were made of wood¡­ Like that was common under the earth. And then there was the handful of goblins checking each of the tents on this row, compared to the empty indifference a stone''s throw away.


    As she watched, waiting for her squad of scouts to form up, she noticed that two warrior goblins were acting as vigilant sentinels for the other shadow and stone goblins, taking in their every single action. It looked like, rather than protecting the others, they were acting as a guarantee of the standards the other goblins were working at as they serviced the tents one last time.


    The longer Sathera watched them work, the more the scene seemed to wail with desperation. It''s not like the goblins were altering anything; they were just rechecking everything that had already been done. The miserable creatures skittered around the tents, ensuring the tent pegs and poles were solidly placed in the ground, and all the guiding lines were tight. They then moved to the front to tie back the cloth flaps and move inside for a few seconds before moving to the next tent.


    The only impressive aspect was the efficiency with which they moved from one tent to the next. It was clear that they had done this thousands of times before, and they could even do it in their sleep. And yet, even with their evident practice and them doing something seemingly routine, each and every one of them was wholly focused on their job. It was strange, but it offered the scouts another advantage Sathera was happy to take.


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    Less than a minute later, Sathera felt a soft tap on her back. Half turning, she motioned to them to watch to the right, and then she slipped forward when the goblin''s backs were turned. It was that simple, and the others quickly repeated her actions, allowing them to move on to the next row of tents. Where another group of goblins were also making a last-minute check, but they were no more challenging to skirt than the first.


    In such a way, the scouts traveled through dozens of near-identical lines of tents. The only real difference was that the deeper they went into the camp, the more elaborate the tents became. The edges of the tents became embroidered with flowing, looping designs, and the stakes and tent poles became carved, making them look like rock formations.


    A couple of times, they had close calls as they appeared too close to a group of service goblins to slip by safely, and they had to backtrack a row before jumping up or down the line of tents to gain space. It wasn''t often, but it took time for them to skirt around the problem. Time Sathera wasn''t sure they had, but she was forcing herself to remain optimistic¡­ as long as the negative thoughts weren''t seeping their way into her mind, tainting the world. The worst moment of the infiltration was when they were forced to enter a random tent ¡ª where they learned the goblins entering the tent were checking on a small cot, but that didn''t really matter to Bellous and Jim, who had a bet about it. They had to wait in there for minutes for the group to pass with their hearts jumped to lodge themselves in the scout''s chest, but other than those small instances, the infiltration could be a breeze.


    If anything, it was a little too easy.


    Sathera kept feeling that it was wrong and that she was missing something. And countless times, she questioned whether she had made the right decision, but she kept reminding herself that it was far too late. Like it was her mantra, she mentally repeated, ''Everything is going to work out.''


    Maybe if she said it enough, she would start to believe it. However, she had to admit that despite everything that had happened to them, the situations they had been thrust into had been working out generally fine. But if you want things to remain that way, you must focus on the present! Sathera shouted in her mind, trying to focus her thoughts on the latest group of goblins.


    After spending most of an hour getting to the last line of tents, which was a short skip from the stone buildings in the innermost area of the camp, the drums'' booming became so loud that it was like the heartbeat of the earth. No one in the camp could miss it, and the movements of those working on checking on the camp''s readiness were becoming more frantic by the moment if the shouts were any indication. If it wasn''t clear before, Sathera was positive now that the goblins were not looking forward to the drum''s, and the ones beating on it, arrival.


    With all the havoc throughout the outpost, the center stone section of the camp looked unsurprisingly deserted. After a few minutes of careful ¡ª but ultimately unneeded ¡ª inspection of the backs and sides of the bare stone buildings, the scouts walked over to one, entering its shadows.


    With their arrival, if anything, Sathera felt¡­ unsatisfied with how everything played out. The nagging feeling in the back of her mind, taunting her every moment over the last hour, was being suffocated into nonexistence. Everything but an overwhelming sense of contempt at the insult to her professional pride was being blotted out within her mind.


    The goblin guards were little more than signposts meant to remain rooted in place and do nothing, as it wasn''t like they were offering directions to the nonexistent people either. Those preparing the camp were so¡­ the only word was terrified. That was the only way to describe their single-minded focus on every single minor detail of every single tent.


    From all the times Sathera saw them performing their tasks, none of them deviated a single step, performing the exact same actions over and over again. Performing the same actions was kind of the point of having a procedure, a process she was familiar with as the legion had many of them. But the only time you had to follow every single little step of a procedure was within basic training. At any other point, it was usually either a waste of time, pointless, or sometimes even hazardous to follow.


    There were procedures and regulations on how to equip your gear, even going so far as to specify that your scabbard had to be parallel with your straight left leg, regardless of how that made it harder to draw the weapon for a fight. There were rules on how to polish boots, even how you were supposed to do the soles of them. There was even a procedure detailing how a legionary was supposed to eat a meal step by step so the entire century could start and finish the meal at the same time.


    That last one actually had some practical applications, as you had to be within a union to do it right, and it taught the trainees how to act as a single unit while remaining in a less-than-dangerous situation. But the point was that as soon as someone wasn''t staring over your shoulder to point out every single little deviation from the script, everybody started to drift away from it. Some things just weren''t needed or practical in life.


    None of the goblins ever did, though. They were so focused on their tasks that Sathera''s mental image of them running through a camp with a growing hoard of pursuers all around, even having to quickly cut down those blocking their path before the others caught up, was shattered before it could ever begin. Sathera was half convinced she could have skipped through the camp while singing and not been noticed.


    After days of everything going against them, the sudden shift to the opposite was disconcerting. And what they had left to do wasn''t any more challenging than traversing the camp.


    All they had to do was sprint across the eighty-foot courtyard, cut down the nine goblins guarding the stairs, and start climbing. Perhaps they could find a way to shatter the stairs behind them. Maybe no one else in the camp would notice ¡ª which wouldn''t be surprising ¡ª and they wouldn''t even have to perform a fighting retreat or rush up the stairs, slipping away to find out what was above them.


    Odds were, if Sathera stuck to her original plan, they would get through this and have a real chance of getting out of these caves alive. Sathera would be able to fulfill her wish to be kissed by the sun and to laugh into the wind as it ran its fingers through her hair. And yet, her eyes kept moving away from the stairwell, completely ignoring that beautiful structure as it spiraled around the fifteen-foot wide pillar of stone, climbing the entire hundred feet into the air to the ceiling above. She tried to keep her eyes locked on the exit, but every time she turned her eyes to the staircase, the traitorous things moved of their own accord across the stone pillar to its opposite side, to where a tunnel bored down into the floor.


    Some kind of crystal appeared to have grown through the stone and continued sending out veins across the pillar, nearly reaching the stairwell. While the main clump kept a steady glow, the twisting fingers all across the bottom of the structure pulsed with a green light every couple of seconds.


    Sathera''s concerns kept her mind occupied before, but now that they were gone, she realized what she should have suspected long before this. Now that the light was washing over her skin, she felt¡­ isolated. Sathera could feel her mind being pressured by an external force, and for the first time in what might have been her entire life, she felt truly alone. Even with Jim, Joxin, and Bellous standing around her, inches from her skin, she had never felt so isolated.


    What was worse was that the longer she stayed within the green light''s direct reach, the more her head throbbed and the stronger the feeling of isolation became. She didn''t need to conduct a test. She wouldn''t waste the psy and willpower to extend a tendril out of her body. She could already tell.


    Whatever the source of the green glow was, it was causing and maintaining the unnatural pressure on castings, something that would cripple the legion. And there it was, feet from here, lightly guarded. Any information they could report paled in comparison to destroying it.


    "We have to destroy whatever is down there," Joxin whispered, speaking aloud what was crossing all of their minds.

 B2 Chapter 71

    "If we destroy it, they will be alerted to our presence immediately," Bellous stated, his indifferent tone making it clear he wasn''t implying anything, simply pointing out future events. "And there''s a chance its destruction will collapse the stairs."


    "Does that matter?" Jim said, cutting in with a quiet, intense whisper. "Let''s be honest... Since we were forced into these caverns, the odds of us living to escape are so small that it would be like taking our wages and trying to win enough consecutive dice games to buy a noble''s mansion. We continued because giving up was unacceptable. But now we can make a difference in the coming ¡ª or ongoing ¡ª battle for the Triad. I might be a decent chunk of the way into death''s arms already, and the pain might be coloring my thoughts, but we all will eventually die, probably in battle." Shrugging like he was indifferent to his words, he continued, his voice mellowing out, nearly becoming inaudible, "This seems like a pretty good way to go out to me. Better than being run down like animals."


    No one had anything to say to that. They all had moments where their thoughts wandered in the direction of how they would die down here. It swas a topic no one brought up, though. The unspoken, if ever present, burden they all hauled forward, one step at a time.


    Jim had shattered that silent agreement, and yet, Sathera could only find relief inside her heart and a weight lifted off her shoulders. Knowing and accepting the end is near brings clarity to life. In the end, they were legionnaires. They signed up to continue their tours because someone had to defend the Republic.


    When they made the choice to remain in the Legion, the enemies they thought they would face weren''t existential threats like these dark elves and goblins seemed to be, but they were present and would strike if given a chance. Holding back the dangers lurking at the edges of the realm gave an unmistakable purpose to one''s life, even if no one would ever really know or appreciate the sacrifice.


    How many legionaries of the past died in the forgotten corners of the world, their graves unknown to everyone. And with their deaths, how many children and elderly did they end up protecting. How many lives of their comrades in arms did they save while trying to cut down that which ultimately killed them, only succeeding in reducing the numbers of foes by one or ten. Small as that difference was, it still existed and affected the world. Those legionaries might have only fought for a chance to live or for those beside them, though some no doubt did it out of a sense of duty, horrible and callous that moral conviction might be when it ultimately demands its price. But in the end, it didn''t matter. They fought, they died, and they served the Republic while doing so, no matter the circumstances.


    If the ancestors could make such sacrifices, why couldn''t they? Why shouldn''t they? Sathera and the others weren''t any more or less special. They were just¡­ legionaries.


    "Since we are in agreement," Sathera declared, turning to the stairwell and the bright light green light it was giving off, "ideas for how we go about this?"


    "Rush the guards and take them out fast." Joxin offered. "Then we surround that tunnel and defend it while one of us finds what''s causing the glowing and destroys it. Simple and easy."


    "We could try to sneak over to it?" Jim said a moment later. "Should give us more time to inspect and destroy the artifact."


    "We won''t make it," Joxin said, shaking his head in rejection. "Someone will spot us from the buildings or the alleyways, if not the stairwell guards themselves, before we make it across the square. That assumes we could make it into position without being noticed. And then we would still have to fight, just without the surprise on our side."


    Joxin wasn''t wrong, but running up to an enemy in the open didn''t sound like the best idea, either. Not that any better ideas were being thrown around.


    "...We could just walk up?" Bellous hesitantly said.


    "That fucking stupid!" Joxin snapped, "They would see us coming and instantly move to attack us."


    ¡°¡­Why?" Sathera asked, a smile twitching at her lips. "We are inside the middle of a secret camp hidden inside a complex maze of caverns with no alarm blaring that enemies are nearby. By the time anyone arrives at this place, they should have been checked dozens of times to confirm their identities. We already know there are human traitors; why can''t one be here? And why can''t they be arriving with the army pounding its way up the road?" Sathera could feel the incredulous silence behind her, but the more she spoke, the better she liked the idea. "We saw how they are reacting to their superiors'' arrival. You really think they would question orders?"


    Twisting her hips, Sathera spun on her toes, turning to face the men as she struggled to contain a half-hysterical cackle of anticipation with a broad, infectious smile, which the others hesitantly returned. It was hilariously preposterous, and so was their situation. Why can''t one absurd reality oppose another? At the very least, no one will see it coming, and few could ever top this story in a tavern if they lived to tell the tale. There''s always a bright side, Sathera thought, lifting her face to the sky, somehow feeling a prickling heat against her skin like the sun''s light was shining on her as she took a moment to focus her mind.


    "Lose everything with a legion emblem." As she spoke, her hands fell to her belt, which had her scabbard branded with the legion emblem, a laurel wreath surrounding a shield with a cross sword and spear behind it. But even as she was moving, she was slowing down, shaking her head. "No, that will not work."


    Hands moving up to her neck, she grabbed her cloak and started adjusting and unclasping the scout brooch insignia, turning it around to face her skin rather than outward. "We can''t appear unarmed or with too ragged gear. Make obvious attempts to remove the emblems you can not hide. We don''t need it all gone, just enough to make it appear we are trying to differentiate ourselves. We can even cut off the bottoms of our cloaks and use the cloth as wrapping to hide them."


    As she told the others what to do, they all began following her lead, engaging in a few hurried minutes of deconstruction as they scraped at leather and sliced cloth. They couldn''t let the noise of ripping cloth spread, so they formed small bubbles of psy around their efforts to muffle the sound.


    While they hastily worked, Sathera felt the strain of maintaining the small telepathic casting. The resistance wasn''t like hitting a brick wall or the scouring sand wind she felt while controlling a telepathic strand further out in the camp, but something like wading through water. While it was manageable on a small scale, if this affected a whole legion, it wouldn''t last a minute in battle. It was not like she needed it, but it only added to the need to destroy the artifact. Something so powerful could not be allowed to remain within their enemy''s hands.


    Giving her scouts a quick once over, Sathera noted that no insignias of the legion were showing. It still looked like the standard basic equipment of the legion, but there were so many items of similar make or just old legion equipment floating around that unless you were a noble, everyone with armor would have an item or two nearly identical to a legionary.


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    Nodding her head in satisfaction, Sathera began speaking, "Jim, you are at the back; hide your wounds as best you can. Joxin and Bellous will be to my sides while keeping a pace behind me. I will do all the talking. You are acting as guards, so just stand there and look intimidating. Do not so much as look to the sides until I attack, no matter how they might call out to you. Empty shadows, gentlemen, you will be my empty shadows following me around. Is that understood?" When she looked each of them in the eye and revived a nod, she smiled, "Good, now let''s get going."


    Turning, Sathera rose to her full height and stepped forward, her entire demeanor shifting during the movement. Gone were the careful steps where, at any moment, she could dart to the side or freeze in place. In its place was the determined strut of a noble on a mission, daring anyone to attempt to deter her from her chosen path. Her slightly hunched back straightened, almost snapping into place as it became so aligned it could be used as a benchmark to determine whether a board was bowed or not. Not that anyone would dare to suggest such a thing. Her hands hung loosely at her sides, swaying slightly with every stride, not even so much as twitching toward her sword, as she crushed any anxious twitches with a practiced, placid exterior.


    Taking several steps by herself, Sathera heard the moment the others jumped to join her, as their movements were marked by a rapid patter that stopped at her back. A small knot in her stomach untied itself at their arrival, but it did little to relieve the greater storm raging all around it. Though it did send a flare of heart with gratitude, knowing they decided to join her on this idiotic task. Even if they all agreed while planning, you never really know what someone would do when it was time for action. At the same time, she couldn''t help but feel a slight annoyance that they were willingly throwing their lives away.


    It was stupid, but she couldn''t deny that it was there, not that she would tell anyone either.


    With every step the scouts took, while the knots inside Sathera didn''t disappear, they just lost their prominence in her mind. She had already won a small victory by taking the first steps. Now that they were in motion, her mind was focused on gaining the next needed victory to their goal by killing the goblins. What else mattered at this point? Nothing else.


    The scouts made it halfway across the square before any of the goblins threw a first, then second, look at them. Maybe it was Sathera''s forced confidence and determined walk that made people write them off as belonging, or it could be an overwhelming lack of discipline where no one bothered to speak of the four individuals clearly not goblins approaching. Even when one of the guards pointed at them and barked out in their harsh, nasally language, the scouts still made it another five steps before any of the guards acted.


    And when they did acr, it was not what she expected. The smallest of the goblins was shoved forward and shouted at until he scuttled forward to intercept them, while another darted around the side of the pillar. When the goblin got close enough to talk casually, it started choking and hacking like he was trying to clear something lodged inside its throat. It took Sathera a second to realize that the noises it was making could mostly be called words, "You are not allowed here, humans. Leave."


    Sathera didn''t so much as slow her stride as she barreled toward the goblin, making him step to the side or be knocked over. "I will not be questioned by one as lowly as you," Sathera sneered, putting so much contempt into her words that it made it clear to all how she felt having to lower herself. That, in her eyes, he might as well be a vagrant covered in his own shit for how much his presence was an affront to her. "Bring me your commander, and I will dain to explain then... Not that he will be worthy to hear my voice."


    "Of course," The goblin snapped, stepping back in fear and bowing low before darting to the side to quickly carry out a hushed conversation with the other goblins, whose numbers had grown as all the guards around the tower were gathering. As they talked, a large warrior goblin arrived, pushing his way to the center and snapping out a few words before listening.


    Stopping four feet from the nine gathered goblins, Sathera noted that all but one of them were shadow goblins, which was great. She crossed her arms under her breasts while her foot tapped quickly against the ground in annoyance. Finally, after much gesturing to them from the small shadow goblin, the warrior goblin pushed through the others, begrudgingly stomping his way over.


    As he approached, Sathera could smell the unwashed body of the creature, a sickly sweet scent flowing off him in waves. Sathera didn''t bother hiding her disgust at the smell. Instead, she played into it, waving one hand at her nose as her face wrinkled. The smaller goblin stepped around from the back of the larger one as it snapped out a few words, waiting patiently. When the large one finally stopped speaking, the smaller one stepped forward slightly, taking on a commanding tone as it said, "The Great Blood Sniffer demands you explain your presence."


    Hand plunging into her cloak like she was searching for something to cover her nose, Sathera stepped forward, putting herself almost face to chest with the goblin as she looked down her nose at the creature. Seconds passed as her lip started to twitch and curl at the warrior goblin, an expression the goblin returned with its yellowed fanged teeth, causing a puff of fowl breath to wash over Sathera''s face. Nothing happened for long seconds as they locked eyes with each other, a silent battle of dominance taking place in the air between them.


    Opening her mouth to speak, Sathera never broke eye contact as her right hand slithered out of her cloak, her wrist flicking in dismissal. The creature didn''t even start to react until the knife she held in her hand exited the left side of its neck with a squirt of blood. Lunging forward after the attack, Sathera pushed the warrior goblin to the side as he clutched at his gaping throat, gurgling. "Attack now," Sathera barked as her hand pulled back before flicking forward, sending her knife spinning at the closest goblin.


    Her throw utterly failed, as the blade twisted in the air until it struck the creature''s chest with the flat side, doing nothing, but the goblin flinched back, and that was all she needed. While Sathera was throwing the dagger, she was also gritting her teeth and gathering her psy to force a tendril outside of her body at her waistline. Even expecting it, her tendril moved at an annoyingly slow speed for the effort as it wrapped around the hilt of her sword and pulled free the steel.


    As she covered the four feet to the still shocked goblins, and her hand was coming down from her throw, Sathera''s sword flicked up, propelled by her tendril, slicing through the flinching goblin''s boiled leather chest piece and torso alike. By the time her hand was outstretched and the hilt of the blade was slapping into her palm, the upward slash had reached the creature''s left pec. Fingers wrapping around the worn leather, Sathera tightened her grip as she twisted her body, pulling the sword out of its flesh and bones, letting the body nearly collapse to the ground in two pieces.


    Stepping forward and uncoiling, Sathera thrust her blade into the neck of the next goblin in the group, who was finally starting to react, his hand dropping to the sword at his side. The reaction was far too late to stop the mortal wound, but Sathera did halt her advance for a half second as she slammed her palm into the goblin''s wrist, preventing him from drawing his blade until blood loss and terror caused him to collapse.


    In the moment she paused, Bellous and Joxin flashed past her, steel in their hands, each downing another goblin with the same ease she had. A step behind them came Jim, whose sword was already stained with blood, adding his own weight to the charge. With over half their number dead in less than a handful of seconds, the goblins, cowards that they were, turned, screams of panic and fear on their lips. Not that their fear saved them, as the three legionaries hacked and stabbed into their backs, cutting down the rest of them before they could make it five feet.


    Standing within the body and blood-stained ground, Sathera''s chest heaved with heavy, labored breaths, feeling drained from the fight, short as it was. Forcing herself to look to the sides for more enemies, her tunneled vision expanded to normal again, and her mind cleared enough for her to remember her true objective.


    With her unclouded thoughts, Sathera turned, bent down to scoop up her knife, and yelled back at the men, "Move to the tunnel!"

 B2 Chapter 72

    The scouts'' feet beat against the ground as they ran around the fifteen-foot stone pillar. They quickly made it past the bodies, drenching the stone with blood that looked like a black stain creeping over the ground in the green light.


    As her legs and arms pumped, Sathera couldn''t stop her eyes from being drawn to her right side and away from the seemingly empty surroundings. It was hard to ignore the pulsing heat she felt on her skin¡­ even under her armor. It wasn''t precisely heat, but it was close enough to be mistaken for it if you weren''t paying attention. A single look and a moment was all it took for Sathera to connect the pulsing green light along the crystal green vines running through the rock and the feeling.


    Even the fact that the crystal was exerting some pressure on her wasn''t what kept drawing her eyes away from the danger she knew was out in the camp, as they already were aware of it having some effect. No, what drew her like a lodestone to steel was the green vines worming their way through the wall. And worming was the correct word, as the crystal was growing.


    Sathera could see flakes and shards of stone hanging from the wall around the borders of the crystal fissures. There was even a mound of debris along the base of the wall that she had failed to notice before. The farther around the column Sathera traveled, the more the crystal mass displaced the stone and the thicker the mound of stone shards on the ground became. They have to be cleaning up the stone chips, or the debris would be a small mountain by now. Meaning¡­ it is still growing up the stone. That can not be good.


    Caught up in her scrutinizing, Sathera hardly even noticed herself standing at the top step of a staircase. They were not stone steps. On the far side of the column, the crystal was little more than hair-thine fissures of pulsing light green. Those cracks widened and combined, shifting into a darker hue that affected the light as the crystal apparently spread not only up but down into the cave floor, consuming the entire tunnel.


    Unlike the outer sections of the green growth, this inner section never entirely lost its glow, providing the light source that illuminated most of the cavern. While Sathera and the others were used to looking at caverns in green light by now, this light was different.


    Despite its deep color, Sathera got the feeling it was¡­ hungry. Which didn''t make sense at all. Then again, neither did it make sense that the light coming off the tunnel walls could collect down the center of the passage in a dark green fog, so Sathera didn''t know what to think at this point. And it was only made worse that the fog got so thick she couldn''t see the bottom of the stairwell.


    She could not have stood on the top steps for more than two seconds before Sathera felt her skin prickling as if a frigid wind flowed over her. After a few more seconds remaining in place, Sathera felt nauseous, and it was only growing worse by the moment. Flaring her psy in her core, Sathera pushed her psy all throughout her mind, searching for some kind of mental manipulation, finding nothing.


    Not content with that, Sathera expanded her search to her body as a whole. It wasn''t until she reached the outer edges of her body that she found anything. And when she did, Sathera almost wished she had not. Before her psy could reach her skin, Sathera came into contact with a foreign energy she had somehow overlooked intruding into her body. An energy she recognized as the same power suppressing her castings, just far more concentrated. With so much of it around, she could not help but examine it, and it felt¡­ wrong.


    And this wasn''t the abnormal wrong of how her psy was hostily interacting with foreign energy without resulting in mutual destruction. Some deep part of her was screaming that the energy was twisted from what it was intended to be and went against nature on a fundamental level.


    With a surge of willpower, she flexed her psy, forcing the energy out of her body. It was a weird sensation, and Sathera could not get the image of blowing up a wineskin within a water barrel out of her mind. Which was a good analogy for her situation for an entirely different reason, as she was now stuck holding back the tide.


    The energy could and would enter her body without hesitation, and only Sathera''s willpower-backed psy prevented it, but the struggle was quickly depleting her reserves. Her flesh was a ship with a thousand little holes poked into it, all of which needed to be covered simultaneously to be sealed tight.


    Gritting her teeth at the mental effort to shield her body, Sathera realized that none of the others could perform this task. They had neither the training nor, most importantly, the psy reserves. Being born and raised as a noble does have its perks, Sathera thought wryly. There just are not nearly as many perks as people think when you are raised with morals.


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    Turning without removing the ominous entrance from her line of sight, as she was not sure she could bring herself to face it again, Sathera spoke to the others who were standing just to the side of the entrance, looking toward their surroundings, "The twisted energies too thick for any of you to withstand. Stay up here and guard the passage¡­ If I don''t come out in a couple minutes, go for the stairs. Either I would have succeeded or be dead by that point." Without waiting for an answer or her will to falter, Sathera stepped forward, entering the confines of the descending tunnel.


    As the walls enveloped her, the pressure she was resisting more than doubled, and she staggered to the side, banging into the passage wall and using it for support. It was a mistake. Even through her clothing and armor, the touch of the wall felt like glowing embers searing into her flesh. Sathera tried to stifle it, but a whine of pain squeezed itself out of her throat as her vision narrowed onto the next step.


    She instantly pulled back, managing to sway in the center of the passage without falling, but the damage was already done. The ambient pressure was bad enough and would have slowly worn her down, but when she touched the wall, it released a flood of energy into her body that almost instantly smashed open her defenses.


    While the energy was not exactly hostile, as it didn''t directly lash out at her psy, it acted similar to an acid. Her shield was slowly being eroded away and needed to be continuously reinforced¡­ when she was outside of the tunnel. When she touched the wall, the blast of twisted energy surging at her body was so compressed and potent that the erosion increased exponentially.


    In less than a second, dozens of weak points formed on her shield, allowing the twisted energy to flood into her body. Unable to seal or stem the breaches, let alone reinforce the rest of her bulwark, the rents continued to expand and multiply until entire sections of her psy shield were cut off and enveloped. It was far worse than a straight-up psy annihilation fight, in Sathera''s opinion. Within the moment her shoulder was leaning against the wall, it felt like her head was bashed with a stone dozens of times, as mini backlashes continuously reverberated throughout her psy as her shield was ripped to pieces.


    However, despite the pain and without conscious thought on her part, Sathera yanked what was left of her psy into her mind. When she realized what she had done, she only reinforced the smaller shield protecting her brain, completely sacrificing the rest of her body. She didn''t need any more proof that she was incapable of maintaining a full-person shield while being pitted against the foreign energy. Even if she wanted to be an idiot and keep trying, her mind currently felt like someone had gouged out a large chunk, making it hard to think. And it was only getting worse with every passing second as more of her psy and willpower were eroded, so it wasn''t happening.


    The effect of the twisted power flooding her form was almost instantaneous, as everything below her neck became numb. It wasn''t quite that bad, as she could still somewhat feel and control her body. The thing was, moving her body was like doing it as someone looking down at her body instead of being inside it, which didn''t seem to be a generally good thing, all things said and done. Even her eyes felt distant as if just to look out of the, she had to gaze through a long tunnel.


    Sathera flopped her right leg to the edge of the step, releasing a scream filled with equal measures of pain, determination, and triumph at the movement. Gathering her will again, she forced herself to stumble forward and down a step.


    Unable to entirely control her movements, Sathera balanced for an instant before slowly tilting to the left and bouncing into the other wall. Shoulder striking the surface, more energy tried to flood into her body, only partially succeeding.


    A small amount of energy made it inside, but there was already so much of the twisted stuff packed within her form that no more could fit. Not that this was any better, as the surge caused all the energy within her body to jump, resulting in the energy striking her barrier like a hammer against a wall. Sathera''s shield wasn''t shattered, but she did lose ground, allowing the energy to start playing with the edges of her mind.


    Without any better options, Sathera bounced from one side of the passage to the other. While touching the walls rang her mind like a bell, the pain also kept her thoughts focused, preventing her from being totally consumed by the utterly apathetic thoughts washing through her in waves. Why am I even doing this? What is this suffering for? I should just give up? No¡­ not yet. I''ll go one more step. Perhaps then¡­ Perhaps.


    Sathera could not say how long she traveled down the tunnel, but from her perspective, every second stretched into hours, then years of pain and numbness. All the while, apathy was steadily consuming her mind, pushing then pulling her into its depths. Even the clarion call of pain, which allowed her to muster a spark of life to breach the inky indifferent sea and take another step before being pulled back down, was becoming less effective with every use.


    The lower Sathera sunk, the more reality was stretched and warped, making the simple tasks of taking a breath or sliding her foot forward like lifting a loaded wagon upon her back and carrying it. She couldn''t even say how she kept moving time after time. But she did, all while looking down the jade steps leading an incomprehensibly long way into the earth.


    Then, the next thing Sathera knew, she was opening her eyes and found herself lying on her side on top of a dark green floor.

 B2 Chapter 73

    Lifting her head slightly before dropping it back down, Sathera stopped her rasping breathing to groan in pain as she started squirming on the ground, testing what still worked right. Her entire body throbbed with a muted pain as if someone had none too gently taken a club to it.


    Clumsily, she lifted her left hand and wiped at the source of the intense tickling on her upper lip, scrubbing it away. Pulling her hand away, Sathera squinted, trying to focus on the blur she suspected was the back of her hand. But she could not be entirely certain as it refused to come into focus, so Sathera brought it close enough to nearly touch her eyes.


    Even then, it took an annoyingly long time for Sathera to discover the black smear covering her knuckles was her blood, and there was far more where it came from if her clogged nose was any indication. Pressing the back of her hand against one nostril, Sathera momentarily forsook her noble heritage ¡ª and was unable to find the tiniest fleck of remorse inside of herself about it ¡ª as she forcefully expelled the blood blockage with a blast of air.


    Now that she could breathe, Sathera clambered to her hands and knees before she sat back on her thighs. While the mental pressure was all but gone compared to her fragmented memories of traversing the stairwell gauntlet, even the light pressure of this room was weighing on her. Its touch was little more than what she felt at the edge of the pillar''s square, but it was still making it hard for her to move as it slowly pushed on her thoughts.


    It isolated and disconnected her from the world, making it impossible for her to rest and recover even for a moment. She had to keep moving and pushing while she still could, but even that was more difficult than it needed to be.


    When Sathera moved anything, there was a moment or two of hesitation, like she was watching someone act out what she told them to do rather than doing it herself. Sathera only knew for sure that she moved when she saw her body move from the back of the long tunnel leading to the heart of her mind, as what she felt was so distant it could have simply been her imagination.


    But while her body and mind burned as they were slowly consumed by the almost psy that invaded her, it could not break her, not yet. Because the core of her mind was a bastion, a shimmering golden bead of psy that resisted the eldrich corruption around it. And until it finally cracked, she would not stop.


    Lunging up to plant one leg against the ground, she used the momentum, driving her heel into the ground and bouncing to her feet. As Sathera landed, her body swayed like a stalk of tall grass dancing in the wind, almost as if her bones had partially lost their rigidity. Head lolling from one side to the other, Sathera''s eyes rolled across the chamber in a single sweep, taking it all in.


    The walls radiated a matted green glow, which was barely enough illumination to call it light, but it allowed her to see the chamber. If you took a large ball and cut it in half, that would be this space. The walls were smooth and symmetrical as they arched up to the center of the enclosure. At the highest and centermost part of the room, there was a marked change from the smooth surface as a delicate latticework of crystal broke out of the wall to hang like the chain of a chandelier from the ceiling.


    The crystal threads sparkled as points of light moved within the interconnected deep emerald and jade strands. The woven cords arched and twirled their way down from the roof of the chamber, only to abruptly curve toward a single point three feet above the ground. At the center of the hair-thin web was a head-sized diamond-shaped dark jade crystal. If you removed the threads holding it in place, the crystal looked perfectly symmetrical. From the wider middle, the crystal narrowed along half a dozen flat planes to points at the top and bottom that she could not make out with her eye.


    Something about the pretty stone drew her attention, causing Sathera''s eyes to linger on it. The longer she looked upon the crystal, the more she felt the beating of her heart. It was slow and steady, like that of the earth. Once every couple of seconds, it would throb. A slow yet implacable, ba-boom¡­ ba-boom¡­ ba-boom¡­


    Every time the crystal-heart beat, Sathera''s connection to it grew. And then she felt it. A small but growing tug inside of her. Like the blood inside her veins was trying to reach out and join the crystal, and only her skin and flesh were delaying what would be the glorious union.


    The longer she stared at the crystal, the more annoyed she became that her body was betraying her. Her skin should just split and tear open so they could be joined faster. Since it wouldn''t, she would just ha¡ª Ripping her eyes away, Sathera stared at her feet while taking several labored breaths as her heart raced within her chest.


    Sathera blinked owlishly at her feet, and for one blissful moment, her mind was clear. There was no foreign energy grinding her sanity into dust. The relentless attack devouring her psy and willpower until it would ultimately leave her an empty husk, without even the capacity to breathe, was gone. It was bliss. Sathera could not think of a single moment in her life that she felt more relaxed.


    Then she staggered to the side as her mind was clamped in a pounding headache, and her body screamed of a thousand pains. Worried that she might pass out if she fell to the ground, Sathera drunkenly stumbled around as she processed the different aches and release from the pressure, causing Sathera''s iron grip over her psy to finally waver.


    At that moment, she didn''t have the wherewithal to exert her control over her psy. After who knew how long, where a large section of her mind had been solely focused on keeping her shield from fracturing and reinforcing it with what little willpower she could dredge up, the last bastion of her inner mind finally shattered, releasing her psy.


    It wasn''t the pressure or apathy that broke her. It was the release felt in a single moment. One second where Sathera could relax and stop fighting, only to find she was unable to jump into action again.


    Sathera''s psy quickly spread through her head and down her neck but had hardly entered her chest before it came into contact with the foreign energy remaining within her body. Sathera gathered herself to pull back her psy for one last push, only to find there was no need. The energy was¡­ weak. Pathetically so.


    There was no comparison between withstanding this twisted energy and the energy of a matter of seconds ago. It was similar to dropping a hundred-fifty-pound bag and then having to pick up a ten-pound one; they just didn''t have the same impact.


    Not bothering to reinforce her psy with willpower or even control it, Sathera looked down at herself. Fresh blood was dripping down her arms and legs, making her look like some kind of creature out of a nightmare related to half-dead legionaries.


    A smile came to her no doubt blood-stained lips, and she laughed into the cavern, "Is this all you got! I can go another round or two!" Her challenge to the empty cave went unheeded, but Sathera found herself doubling over in a full-body heaving laugh. It probably went on too long for multiple reasons, but eventually, her laughter petered out, and Sathera regained some composure. "Let''s finish this," Sathera croaked as she straightened, her throat ragged.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    Striding forward, Sathera flicked out her sword arm, extending her blade, which she had held onto during this whole struggle, out to the side. After swinging her arm around a bit, she started rotating her wrist to loosen it up. During all of her warmup, her eyes were locked on the crystalline roots just above the crystal heart.


    It was too dangerous for her to be enthralled by looking at the stone again, but those delicate strands looked like a wind could blow them away. A few strikes of her sword should be more than enough to shatter them.


    "Well," chuckled a husky female voice that filled the room so completely that it felt as if it was coming from all directions at once. "This is a shock." She didn''t sound concerned in the slightest. Instead, she sounded amused and pleasantly surprised, like something interesting had plopped onto her lap after a long day of tedium.


    Sathera was still processing the fact she had not imagined the words when her body locked up. It was like she was a puppet, and suddenly, the controller decided to pull the strings in every direction at once, restricting her movements. In desperation, Sathera strained every muscle to flick her arm forward and throw the blade but quickly realized that no amount of physical strength would accomplish the task right now. She was trapped.


    The almost-psy surrounding her body, which was mindlessly pushing forward a moment ago, had gained new purpose as it solidified, sealing her in place. And with every chaotic pulse of her heart, the new purpose was spreading into the energy already saturating her body, further preventing her movement.


    Terror filled Sathera''s mind as she felt the energy inside her body shudder like a pool of oil suddenly igniting. After she watched in horror as the shift exploded through her, there was a moment when the energy was utterly frozen. Then, it pushed upward and started fighting with her psy. Exactly like what happens when¡­


    And that was it. Something that Sathera would think was impossible, but it fit everything she knew about the twisted energy.


    It was psy, just without willpower and intent. It was bland and empty, devoid of everything that gave it purpose, even as it took up space in the world. The actions it took ¡ª if you could really call them actions ¡ª were like compressed air trying to escape the container it was trapped in and then drifting around. No, it was more like water blending with wine.


    If wine is psy with willpower and intent infused into it, then water was what the twisted energy was, though the analogy could only go so far. Water was the basis of all life, not some crime against creation like the void-psy. Another major problem with it was that instead of mixing with and diluting her psy, as water does to wine, the void-psy acted more like a leach.


    True, it also took some of the psy maintaining a casting as they came into contact, but that was a false lead. The empty psy wasn''t eating away at the casting so much as trying to reach an equilibrium of willpower. In the attempt, the psy constructing the casting was altered. It was an ingenious attack, really.


    How the enemy responded didn''t matter. Whether they spent more willpower to protect their casting or simply let the will and psy suffusing their casting gradually be drained away, the result was the same. And horrifyingly, the empty psy could enter a body so long as it was around in large enough quantities before whoever was generating the void-psy directly shifted and controlled it.


    It was too much. Far too much. The psy that had already infiltrated Sathera''s body was waging an internal battle against her own psy. She couldn''t win the fight even at her best, as the energy inside her was several times that of what her core could hold. To make it worse, even if she somehow won, her internal organs would be damaged or destroyed, as a psy battle was not without random physical manifestations.


    As all the thoughts flashed through Sathera''s mind, the woman controlling the artifact crystal ¡ª which Sathera could feel as the source of the psy ¡ª continued to speak into her mind, not seeming to care that she was talking to herself. Although it soon became clear she wasn''t. "No, I''m not surprised the goblins failed to keep you out of here. They have failed countless times in the past and will fail innumerable times in the future. It is a true shame that we are burdened with such useless help¡­ but what can you do? Plan around their incompetence, that''s what. They were never the real guards for this chamber. The spectacle you made as you traversed the stairs while keeping your mind intact without the proper preparations was what surprised me. Few can say they could do the same¡­" The disembodied woman''s voice drifted off into contemplative thought, and the pressure grinding through her body relented ever so slightly.


    In a flurry of mental effort, Sathera pulled most of the psy she was using to protect her mind away from the battle, leaving only enough to buy her a few moments. Reforming the psy into a spike, she drove it out of her mind and into the wall of psy surrounding her head. Like a piton driven into stone, she cracked the barrier, allowing her psy to secrete out of her forehead.


    Exerting her will, Sathera formed the psy into a tendril and extended it as fast as she could manage to lash down and wrap around her belt knife and move to throw it at the crystal formation. Before the tendril could remove the knife more than a few inches from its sheath, a wave of psy exploded from the crystal. A moment after it shattered her casting, she felt it smashing into her chest to throw her back against the unyielding psywall to her rear, forcing out her breath from the impact. Gasping for air, Sathera watched her knife skitter across the ground, her heart filling with despair as her mind was enclosed.


    For the voice, it was as if nothing more meaningful than swatting a fly had happened, and she continued to speak as she put her thoughts into words. "It makes me wonder¡­ Have we underestimated your people? Hard to fathom that being the case, I know, but if a random pawn is so capable, what can the true powers do? However, it could be that your people''s extreme resistance to foreign energy is at play here¡­ Well, I will know soon enough." With what felt like every word, the attacking energy pressed in, crushing the desperate mental defenses she erected time and again. All that was left to her was the center of her mind, and Sathera could already feel the cracks in her last should forming against the implacable pressure.


    "I will say," The voice said, more than a hint of malicious delight in it, "I heard how exceptionally resilient your kind are, but I didn''t believe it. This though¡­ This is remarkable. It makes crushing your mind so much more enjoyable! ¡­Ahh, but it''s such a pity that the same force that strengthens you leaves you open to exploitation. You could never imagi¡ª What? No!


    Suddenly, the pressure vanished, and Sathera started to fall to the ground. As she hung in the air, she just so happened to partially turn, letting her body face the door. Standing within its arch was Jim, a look of strain on his face and arm stretched out. As he pulled it back, the sound of crystal cracking filled the room, and a spike flew into his hand.


    A moment later, Sathera hit the side of her head into the ground with a meaty thwack, causing her already clouded thoughts to spin and deform to the point that she couldn''t even lock her eyes on a wall. One thought, then another, drifted through her mind, and she couldn''t grasp onto any of them before they vanished.


    As she struggled to blink, her eyelids moved painfully slowly, and time began to blur, causing her life to become a series of snapshots filled with reverberating tinny sounds.


    Jim appeared above Sathera, and she forced out, ''Leave me.'' Only for his face to distort with concern before setting in determination. She tried to tell him to leave her again, only for him to sit back, "Shut up, I need to focus!" before he shifted and lifted her across his shoulders.


    Eye fluttering open, Sathera was looking down the endless flight of jade stairs, somehow only seeing a dozen where there should have been thousands.


    Another blink, and she was out in the courtyard, where hundreds of goblins were getting to their feet in a daze, looking around and stumbling into each other as they glanced around in confusion. Joxin''s voice broke through her twisting world, shouting, "Move your ass! They''re getting back up!"


    Then, she was looking down upon the goblin camp, a line of the creatures marching through the camp and waiting for their turn on the stairs. At that moment, a single ominous crack of stone filled the chamber, and the ground under Jim shook. Thrown to the side, as he lost his balance, Sathera saw the quickly approaching steps an instant before the world plunged into darkness.

 B2 Chapter 74

    "Would you care to expand on that?" Panta said into the silence that crashed over the Command Room at the report of a second potentially hostile army outside their walls.


    "I suppose I''m supposed to¡­" The Kin messenger flippantly said, either utterly ignorant or not caring about the guards'' hands dropping to their hilts and the sudden hostility flooding the room, "You ¡ª the Olimpians ¡ª are nearly utterly ignorant of artifacts. A moment ago, I wouldn''t have included the qualifier, but that table proves it is needed. However, given the scarcity of these items within your society, I would guess an explanation would be in order, as I doubt many of you even know how they are made, let alone function. Simply put, to create an artifact, you imbue your will and mana into an object to give it abilities and properties it wouldn''t otherwise have. There are many steps in the process to anchor and work the spellcraft into the medium, but that isn''t important. A fairly standard feature within artifacts is that they can pull in the ambient energy to use as¡ª


    "What is the point of all this!" Snapped Shree Ponpti, full of pompous fury, "A question was asked of you, and you''re over there blathering about inconsequential things while insulting the Glorious Republic! You should be beaten for your insolence!"


    Speaking up before the woman could do anything else to make a fool of herself and undermine their united facade before a potential enemy, Panta spoke up, "I believe he is ensuring we have the basic understanding of the method the dark elves are using to evade us. I believe he was just about to get to the point?" Quirking an eyebrow at the end, he looked at the Kin, who was looking at the woman with sharp eyes, his face ever so slightly twisted by disdain.


    Before anyone else could look at the Kin and see his expression, his face shifted, becoming a subservient, yet somehow mocking, mask again. "You are correct Legatus Valde. The dark elves use multiple artifacts, as I described, which work in conjunction with one another to conceal their camp. If I had to guess ¡ª which I don''t ¡ª they are using artifacts that suppress sound, create a compulsion to avoid the area, and manipulate light to warp around them. As for how we know, well, if you know what to look for, you can see the signs of their presence when you look at the camp. It''s really just a matter of knowing what to look for. But we didn''t need that, as the camp is so large and has been in place for a long enough time for it to create an eddy in the ambient mana. Anyone eight miles around the camp can feel something is over there. Excluding your people, of course."


    "Can you estimate the size of the encampment?" Numok Hellieous asked, surprising everyone with his question and completely ignoring the jabs at Olimpians, much to Shree''s obvious annoyance.


    "Twenty thousand." The Kin said with an indifferent shrug that could not hide the knowing twinkle in his eyes. "Give or take ten thousand. It''s hard to tell their numbers without being able to see the layout of their camp. Depending on what casts within the Letairry society are present, the numbers within a camp will vary greatly. The goblins, little black-skinned fang creatures they use as fodder, will be crammed into a camp without consideration for comfort. However, the creatures are erratic and prone to fleeing at the first sign of defeat. So, if they value the battle at all, only a small portion of their number will be made up of them instead of consisting of mostly dark elves. They will be fewer but far harder to break."


    As the messenger finished his explanation and came to a stop, the room was silent, and everyone contemplated what it meant to have an army of thirty thousand outside their southern walls. "Are there any other revelations you can enlighten us about tonight?" Panta asked.


    "Yes, there are plenty," The Kin said with a wide smile, showing off his canines, "But not ones that I have been tasked with providing you."


    "You are bold for a mere beast messenger." Shree hissed through her gritted teeth. She stalked forward in an attempt ¡ª which everyone could see was failing ¡ª to intimidate the messenger, who was looking down at her with a condescending level of attention and a placating smile on his lips, which caused the woman''s cheeks to blossom with rosy indignation. "We could have you thrown in the dungeon for execution for how you have spoken to us."


    "Ahh, yes." The Kin said, not even attempting to hide his condescending tone anymore. "Well, there are two things¡ª Oh, my bad, three things about that." He held up three fingers and ticked one down as he spoke. "One, I am far from a mere beast messenger, as you say. Two, you would have to find and catch me first."


    The fox''s eyes widened in feigned shock as he looked down at his hand, as if surprised to find his middle finger was up, and pointed at Shree Ponpti''s face, "Oh, you have my deepest apologies for the accident, My Lady. Ahem, three. If you are unable to hold back the Letairry, we will step in to prevent them from gaining a foothold here. Ahh, looks like I was wrong again¡­ Four," He lifted back up his middle finger, an absurdly broad smile stretching from ear to ear on his face now, "Feel free to request our support in this matter; just have Tribune Latic Ponpti come over whenever she wishes to offer us an apology for her rude behavior."


    With that, the fox disappeared in a puff of black wisps a moment before there was a clatter of stone against the floor. Leaning to the side, Panta glanced at the ground, mildly surprised to find a small figure of a stone fox on the ground in the place where the messenger Kin was.


    ¡°Wha¡ª Ho¡ª Wh¡ª The nerve!" Shree finally spluttered, her face flushed, and fists clenched at her side as she stomped her foot on the ground.


    "Franko!" Panta snapped.


    "Sir!" Snapped the optio of his guards as he stepped forward and saluted in response.


    "Take that figurine and put it somewhere secure. And escort these gentlemen somewhere comfortable and isolated. Bring them some refreshments, but do not let them leave until I send word. That goes for everyone in this room; no one is to leave until I say."


    The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Gunther, Maison, with me." The legionary said before he walked across the room to the door, where he was joined by two more of Panta''s guards. As they stood before the senatorial guards who were still looking blankly at the space in their midst where the messenger stood a moment before, Franko spoke up, catching the attention of the other four men, "Gentlemen, if you will follow me." Before he strode through their formation and quickly exited the room.


    "What do you think you are doing, Panta," Hellieous said, his voice cold.


    "Calm down," Panta said, waving the man off as he moved to expand the map on the table to show the Triad and its surroundings. "We can not have the information leak until we confirm its veracity and how we will respond." Hellieous still didn''t look pleased about Panta commanding and containing men under his command without his input, but he also let the topic drop, which was practically the same as agreeing.


    "Are you just going to let this slight go unanswered!" Shrieked Shree Ponpti. "Did you not see how he demeaned and insulted us! And you are really just going to let it pass!"


    "Be quiet, Tribune Latic," Panta said levelly, "Now is not the time for your postur¡ª


    "What are you saying to me?" She shrieked, causing the room to fall silent and the attention of every single person to focus on the pare.


    Sighing, Panta retracted his psy from the table before slowly coming to his full height to face the woman. From old habits, Panta adjusted his bracers before moving his hands behind his back and clasping one in the other. The woman stood there, her chin stuck out in defiance as she looked up at him. As the seconds passed, and he said nothing, the anger flushing her face bled away, and her childish defiance began to crumble as she realized she had gone too far.


    "I am not your father, and you are not a child," Panta said, his voice cold, "So I do not enjoy being the one to teach you the lesson of consequences for one''s actions, but it appears I have no choice. You went to the Kin and insulted them, called them liars, and demanded concessions without even letting them speak before you left. They are not us; some would say they are more animal than anything else, and yet you openly challenged them within their home, an action every hunter could tell you never to do to a predator. Your decision could have easily caused a war and probably would have if they hadn''t been actively seeking to be our allies. Because of that, they came here and treated us with the same respect you showed them. More to the point, if what their messenger told us is accurate, and I am inclined to believe that is the case, as it fits with the protracted battle taking place within our walls, then it is time for military action, not egos and politicking. A rule ¡ª really the only one you and those of your ilk need to learn ¡ª is that a Tribune Latic must shut up when anything related to legion deployment and operations for battle is happening because your martial incompetence can only lead to disaster, both for the battle and your political career. Now, if you excuse me, I have work to do."


    As he turned back to the table, it was like a silent single was sent out, and everyone else in the room could breathe again as they returned to their work. "Quineeta," Panta called out as he settled on the perspective of the map, "Is it possible our scouts missed an invisible camp."


    The woman sighed from where she was hunched over a side table, flipping through a stack of papers. "It''s possible. But expecting them to¡ª


    Panta held up his hand, stopping her from speaking as he said, "I am not blaming anyone. This is uncharted ground, and I suspect mistakes will be made by all of us before it ends. I just need to know if such a thing is possible and the camp''s general location."


    "I understand," Quineeta said, letting out her frustration in a short huff before straightening and regaining her composure. "It simply comes down to how no one was looking for signs of an army. We have patrols up and down the Twins and Rush, going hours in each direction. To the east, we were focused on anything coming across the Twins and all but ignored the Steps. If they really were invisible, then they could have easily slipped along the Cleft without being noticed, as none of our patrols move that far south. Currently, most of our scouts are on patrols less than three miles from the walls supporting the 3rd Cohort tasked with taking and containing the small forts popping up. If the concealing abilities were accurate, then the scouts would have to stumble over the signs of their passage or notice the mental pressure of these artifacts, which was impossible."


    Sucking in a breath, Quineeta''s brow wrinkled in thought as she looked down at the Command Table, eyes searching. "As for where the dark elves could be, they could be anywhere south of Southtown''s wall past four miles, though I would guess they are to the southeast on the far side of the Merchant''s Road. There''s a series of rises and small hills seven miles from here that are perfect for an army camp, and the fish keep the area clear as they are often made to march out to it and set up a camp there for training. From that position, it would be hard for us to accidentally discover them, and we wouldn''t be able to effectively cut off their supplies from Basetown without mobilizing the entire fort."


    Panta nodded in agreement as she spoke, then said after a second, "I''ve been meaning to ask, what''s the latest update outside the walls?"


    "About the same as inside. The situation hasn''t changed much since we got the 3rd Cohort moved by barge to the southeastern banks of the Rush. Our boys assault the forts; the defenders put up a token fight, then retreat into the tunnels and collapse them. If our legionaries don''t attack, the traitors put up siege equipment and cause havoc to anything in range. Every night, any forts destroyed are rebuilt, and the process starts over again. Though, I guess we can put a name to the small humans who are harassing the 3rd at night."


    "Goblins, huh¡­" Panta muttered, "Never thought they were real."


    "Neither did I, well, not since I was a child and searched for them under my bed." Qunitee reminisced for a moment, then returned to the main topic. "Taking everything into consideration, I would be amazed if the scouts found the Letairry camp. It was an oversight on my part."


    "Then learn from it and move on," Panta waved off Qunitee''s claim to the failure, as it wasn''t solely hers, regardless of how she felt. Looking at the map, he started speaking to himself, "If they took Basetown, they must take the Triad or their supply lines will never be secure. They have infiltrated the city and found a way to simultaneously weaken our forces and erect earthworks outside the walls without us suspecting anything. If we deviate from our current actions to start fortifying the city, they will launch their assault early, as it will still be better than us fortifying the city''s streets. And I have no doubt they have other tricks we have yet to see¡­ We can not hold Southtown."


    As Panta made the statement, the room fell silent, and Hellieous decided to speak up, "Are you going to abandon the city? Thousands of civilians will die before they can be evacuated."


    "No, of course not." Panta snorted in annoyance. "If you find yourself in a situation where everything is stacked against you, and anything you can think of will be a loss to one degree or another, what do you do?" When no one answered, he broke his composure with a small smile, saying, "You flip the board and start a new game." Then, turning to where Hellieous and Shree stood off to the side, he asked, "Now, I must know to what extent you two are willing to follow my orders?"


    Raising an eyebrow in question, his eyes boring into them, the Legatus of the 15th Legion silently waited as the duo turned to look at each other.

 B2 Chapter 75

    Kathren marched at the end of the line of legionaries as she kept watch for anything coming from the rear, but she couldn''t stop her eyes from squinting in annoyance toward the front every so often. Even with the shuttered lanterns held by every seventh legionary, the tunnel still looked dark as large portions of the walls were swathed with the outlines of dancing limbs and torsos. And yet, even with that darkness and the long line of staggered legionaries walking down the tunnel before her, she could swear she still saw the front of their line and the Bastard leading them.


    She was not in the back of the group because she was avoiding him. No, that would be ridiculous. Kathren was doing her job, the one she was probably the most suitable for, and that was all there was to it. It was entirely reasonable for her to be back here¡­ all alone.


    Though his knight should be at least as good as me¡­ Not the point! Why did he have to be a reaver! Kathren screamed into her mind. Everyone knows they are killers and liars! Noticing her mind was drifting into dangerous territory, she refocused it and performed another sweep of the tunnel.


    AKA, looking over her shoulder. She was in a tunnel. Only two directions of any consequence here. And as simple as her job was, it''s not like she would be doing anything more than she was doing now in any other position in the line¡­ such as the front. No reason to be up there. None at all. At least back here, she could focus all of her training into the action of looking over her shoulder.


    Besides, who would need a scout leading them who was more likely to get lost than arrive where they intended. It wasn''t like she was the one with a mental map ripped from someone''s mind. The thing was, being back here did leave an awful lot of time for one''s mind to wander onto dangerous ground¡­ It isn''t like I''m anyone who should be throwing stones when it comes to killing and lying¡­ But that still leaves the bastard taking control of my mind and stealing my free will! I don''t care if it''s for my own good; nobody controls my thoughts!


    Suppressing the fury of being nothing but a puppet for the sly, manipulative bastard, Kathren forced her thoughts onto walking for perhaps the dozenth time in a vain attempt to prevent it from returning to the circular thought process again.


    Getting angry and trying to kill someone she needed to interact with for at least a little while more would do no one any good, so long as she intended to come out of this alive. Not that death would be the worst sentence for those who stole another''s freedom¡ª no! Ugh, I don''t know. Just¡­ not yet.


    Really, nothing much had happened since they left the mansion. Regrettably, or luckily ¡ª for the legion as a whole or if you were a pragmatic bastard with lots of secrets ¡ª there were no more wounded for the slightly over one century of remaining legionaries to deal with. Well, no more wounded that were unable to move and fight, if at a less than optimal standard.


    If you counted minor cuts, scrapes, bruises, and broken blisters as being wounded, everyone still alive from the manor battle fell into the category. However, no one in the procession counted those as anything close to wounds. They were just proof of their perseverance.


    As a battle progresses, earning the descriptor of wounded becomes more challenging to attain. And if you claimed it without the most crippling wounds or collapsing from blood loss, those of your century, your battle brothers, who you practically shared a mind with for days on end, would look upon you with scorn. Or that was how most of the legion felt about the topic, even if they never said it aloud, leaving it to one of the many unwritten rules people live by.


    Personally, Kathren saw it as a classic example of psychological bleeding that happens between a specific group of individuals when they are linked within a Union. Simply put, it was the male ego making them unwilling to admit they needed to take half an hour to get their wounds stitched up or, heaven forbid, admitting they could no longer function adequately enough to remain on the line. Because admitting you were wounded would make you weak. Unlike bleeding from an untreated wound and spilling a gallon of your blood onto the ground, which makes you strong¡­ somehow. Ugh, just¡­ men.


    Makes no fucking sense to Kathren, and yet more than one man had to have their not wounds treated before they could leave the cellar, as leaving a trail of blood would cause multiple problems no one wanted to deal with. Centurion Borment berated them for being so stupid, but Kathren swore she saw a glimmer of respect in the man''s eyes that they were able to continue fighting as they were¡­ Which kind of undermined the entire ranting, making it a badge of honor rather than a dressing down.


    Then again, that stubborn determination of men to keep fighting, regardless of the wounds inflicted on them, was the keystone of the legion. How else was a legion that was probably less than seven thousand supposed to stand against hoards of beastkin ten times their number and come out victorious on the other side? You needed that kind of irrational resolve. That didn''t make it any less irritating.


    After the men were done being men, they headed into the tunnel leading them below the mansion. After a few dozen quick turns along branching corridors, which the bastard led them through, and a short fight at the front of the formation as they encountered a small band of goblins, all that was left was a fast march for hours. Or so it would seem to Kathren.


    They made some turns, went up and down sloped tunnels, and had to do it all without the aid of psy or a mental network for support. Having such a crutch was something you never appreciated until it was taken away. The men were, well, let''s just say the amount of air they were sucking in would make people think a monster and clambered into the tunnels and was charging at them.


    The only thing she could say that was good about the trip was they avoided goblins after the encounter in the first few minutes. At first, she chalked it up to the bastard''s skills and stolen memories.


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    After the trip dragged on and she had far too much time for her thoughts to wander, she realized it might not be as big of an accomplishment as Kathren first assumed, given the apparent size of the tunnel network under the city. He''s not much of a reaper if he can''t even detect such a massive project literally going on under his nose. If he''s so bad at the job, he should resign. Kathren mentally muttered to herself. Maybe then I¡ª


    Snorting in annoyance, Kathren focused back on the march, finding that they had stopped, and everyone was sliding down the walls for a rest. Moving away from the rest and into the shadows at the back of the group, Kathren slumped against the wall, following the rest of the men as she took out some rations and drank from her water skin while keeping watch down the tunnel.


    Kathren hadn''t been seated for more than a few minutes before she heard the footsteps of someone walking up to her. Half turning, she saw a figure that was nothing more than a shadow outlined by the lanterns but with shoulders so broad she instantly knew who it was. Turning her back to the fatherless man, Kathren faced down the tunnel into the darkness.


    The sound of footfalls stopped a few feet behind her, and the only sound filling the tunnel was the soft murmuring of the legionaries and the rustling of their clothes. "You know," The Bastard said, his voice soft, "You are going to have to look at me eventually."


    ¡°Per¡­ ha¡­ Ps. But¡­ Not¡­ Willingly¡­" Kathren stuttered, her tone far more acrid and biting than she intended, but she couldn''t stop herself. "Do you have any idea how annoying that was? I pitied you for it, and then I find out it''s all part of an act. Good job, you fooled me. Woohoo! What do you want?"


    "Hmm, yes, actually, I do know how annoying it is. It''s not much better from my side." Redgenald said, wry amusement filling his voice. "If you feel lied to, I do apologize. I had no intention of making you feel that way, but I need you to grow the fuck up and perform the job you were trained for."


    "What did you say?" Kathren hissed as she spun about, hopped to her feet, and leaned into the man''s space with her hands flexing at her sides, "I have been doing my job! I don''t know shit about caves, how to navigate them, or where we are going, so excuse me, oh mighty Reaver, who can pull maps out of people''s minds. The least I can do is what "I was trained to do" by watching the rear of the formation in case anything is trying to sneak up on us." Kathren stepped back with her hands raised, patting the air like she was suddenly afraid to get too close to him, "Oh, but I wouldn''t want to pop that ego you''re sporting by getting too close to you or questioning your apology. It might affect our chances down here if you suddenly start second-guessing your actions now."


    ¡°¡­Look," The Bastard sighed, "that came out wrong¡­ I was just trying to say we need a scout at the front."


    "Ahh~!" Kathren drawled, leaning back in with narrowed eyes and staring into the dark spot where his face should be. "You need ''A'' scout. Any will do? I just happen to be the only one around? I see. I guess that would fit your utilitarian mindset. "


    "No! I didn¡¯t¡ª


    "No. I think you have said it all already." Brushing past the Bastard, Kathren stalked down the tunnel, ignoring his half-heated call out behind her. I''m the child? Me? I''m doing my fucking job as best I can, and he calls me a child? Well, he is a narcissist with a stick up his ass who can''t see past his own wants and objectives.


    Most of the legionaries eating and resting looked up from their meals as Kathren passed. Glancing at her, they gave small nods of greeting, but their eyes widened in fear as they flicked past her before quickly dropping their heads back to what they were doing. It seemed that everyone was well aware of who ¡ª but more specifically what ¡ª the Bastard was, and no one wanted to catch his attention.


    It was not a surprising reaction. Pretty reasonable, really. They were all down here on the Bastard''s order, so they knew who and what he claimed to be. And a claim was all that was needed.


    Everyone knew that if someone claimed to be part of the Reapers and wasn''t, the consequences to the individual and anyone close to the person would be severe. And this wasn''t a severe fine, stint in prison, or anything like that. This was a severe, long, and bloody torture session for the individual and anyone around them ¡ª unless they were the ones who turned the false reaper in ¡ª before new corpses were presented for public display.


    Someone in the Reapers had the authority to do practically anything they wanted. It was a lot of power and such an enticing opportunity that there was always someone who claimed to be one every couple of decades, making the perfect example to horrify the latest generation. With the consequences so harsh, assuming anyone claiming the position was telling the truth was general practice.


    And right now, the reaper was thundering down the passage, radiating so much disapproval and annoyance that it could be felt. If the Bastard wanted to scream into her ear that he was taking a front at her actions and attitude, he couldn''t be more apparent, as if what he said was all her fault.


    The oppressive silence traveled along the corridor with them, and it only slightly lessened when they reached the front of the line as Kathren walked up, giving a quick salute to Centurion Borment before saying overly loud, "I hear you need ''A scout!'' I have to say I''m not sure how much my skill set can be within this tunnel."


    The centurion''s eyes flicked to Kathren in surprise, then past her before returning a few times as no one said anything. As seconds scraped by, the silence only thickened, and he hesitantly grunted, "Yep, gal, we can use you. The¡­" His eyes flicked past Kathren for a moment, but the Bastard never spoke up ¡ª the coward ¡ª leaving the centurion to do the explanation. "Reaper told us this tunnel ends a few hundred feet up. Says it exits into a hollowed-out cavern that is still under construction. Placed along the room are supposed to be load-bearing pillars they are building to collapse the ceiling easily. We need you to scout it out and see what situation we find ourselves in."


    "I understand," Kathren said, "I''ll be right back."


    "We," The Bastard stated.


    Ignoring him, Kathren moved forward, passing by his men, who were gathered to the side, watching everything play out. "I told you he shouldn''t be the one to go get her." One of them snickered to the others, causing the rest of them, even the indifferent knight, to cough into their fist and smile in an attempt to hide their laughter. It did not work that great, but she supposed it wasn''t meant to.


    "Gregory," The Asshat rumbled as he passed, "I better see you leading the charge."


    The man who spoke first shut up, but the coughing of the others only picked up, though Kathren ignored them as she checked her gear before moving down the passage. She never looked back to check, and she heard nothing, but Kathren was sure that the Bastard was moving like a shadow behind her. She didn''t care; it was time to do her job, and everything else was meaningless.


    Minutes passed as she silently moved down the passage. Her eyes adjusted to the darkness, and she noticed a green glow at the end of the passage. Getting low and slowing down, Kathren noticed Redgenald appear next to her, and they both crept up to the tunnel''s mouth, looking into the dimly lit chamber.


    "Well¡­" Kathren said, her tone dry enough to form a desert within what must be an eighth-of-a-mile-long and hundreds of feet wide chamber, "I don''t think your information is the most accurate."

 B2 Chapter 76

    Kathren let her snarky comment hang in the air, then decided to continue to needle the man. "What about this chamber do you think is incomplete? If I didn''t know better, I would think the dark elf bitch pulled a fast one on you. Ohh, but you''re a reaver, so that can''t be possible."


    "I wouldn''t say she pulled one over on me," Redgenald said, bobbing his head from side to side to show uncertainty as he ignored most of what she said, "but I might have embellished how much I ripped from her mind."


    "Look at that. The Reaper is a liar."


    "Exaggerator at most. Scouring a mind moments before true death is more art than anything. I might have filled in some gaps from the information I extracted, but I got a clear image of the main points. Their overall plan, the path to the cavern, and the fact that the cavern wasn''t finished, from the last report the dark elf received."


    Kathren didn''t say anything as she looked around the cavern, but the accusing silence between them said more than enough. If anything within this place was unconstructed, it wasn''t the three ridiculously tall stone columns placed along the center of the chamber holding up the ceiling. The height of those stone pillars has to be somewhere in the mid-two hundred feet¡­ No, gotta be more than that. Three hundred? Damn, those things are tall.


    After a couple minutes of study, which was far easier than she feared it would be thanks to the clumps of what looked like glowing mushrooms growing all over, Kathren started to frown as she inspected the pillars over five hundred feet away from her position. The lower her eyes moved on the structures, the more something about them bothered her, but it probably wasn''t that important.


    As for the base of the pillars, she couldn''t make much out, as they were at the bottom of a trench running the entire length of the cavern. From where she was located, which was roughly in the center of the room, the floor dropped every handful of feet in ringed stepped tiers until it reached the trench a few hundred feet below.


    Moving her eyes to the far left following the trench, Kathren studied the source of the occasional shout and clattering of stone she had heard since arriving. The only way to describe what she was seeing being constructed was to use the word battlements. The thing was, everything about it looked weird.


    While the lowest point in the chamber''s floor was over two hundred feet lower ¡ª if you only counted the vertical distance ¡ª from their position, the construction wasn''t anywhere near the trench. Not that it should be, as the overall shape of the chamber was a ''V,'' the pillars being at the bottom, so why there would be a wall at the bottom of the trench didn''t make much sense.


    Not that it made sense for a wall to be inside a cavern at all, but at least the wall wasn''t following the shape of the room either, so at least the goblins had that. What they decided to do was put the "base" of their fortifications inside a hollowed-out cavern on the wall that ran most of the distance across the room, about two-thirds up from the lowest point. Inside the alcove, the wall started at least twenty feet from the edge, standing over thirty feet and covering most of the distance to the alcove''s roof.


    The structure''s existence and placement weren''t the only weird things. The wall had two gates placed to either side close to the edges of the cubby, with one switchbacking ramp in the center of the cavity leading down into the trench. Even with her quick look, Kathren could easily see that the wall, while not complete, wasn''t far off from being so, and with hundreds of figures clambering over it, the structure was being constructed at a visible rate.


    Turning to the other side of the room, Kathren saw¡­ another fifty-foot hollowed-out recess placed in the nearly same position up the wall. The only difference was that the wall had been razed at most a few feet from the ground, not concealing tents and a stone structure placed behind it.


    "Well," Kathren said too neutrally, "I would guess that is what still needs to be constructed, though I fail to see how preventing it will help us stop the dark elves from destroying the First Ring Wall."


    "Quite," The man said, his voice containing his frown though she could not see it. "We are going to have to adjust our plans. Fall back, we''ll have to consult with the others."


    Throwing one last look around the chamber, making sure she remembered all the important details, Kathren scooted back from the ledge until she was far enough into the tunnel not to be seen when she stood. Even then, she made sure to stalk forward, keeping as quiet as possible. Now was not the time to get sloppy.


    Redgenald kept pace with her, though she could tell that most of his focus was back in the room, not on their quick journey down the passage. When they walked back into the bullseye lantern lights, the centurion''s head snapped up, his bushy eyebrows quirking when he saw them. "Ahh, so something is wrong," He rumbled past his pipe. "To be honest, I''m surprised things have been going this well for this long. So spit it out, lad, give us the news."


    Kathren had slipped to the side, letting Redgenald take the full brunt of their attention. This was his mess, so let him clean it up. "It appears my interpretation of the information I recovered was off." He finally said after he had gathered his thoughts.


    Borment took a deep puff of his pipe and blew it out before his voice took on a hard edge, "This wasn''t all for nothing, was it?"


    "No," Reginald said, his hand slashing the air, "not at all. This is a chamber designed to cause a collapse, presumably under something important, such as a wall. My mistake came from interpreting how a portion of it still needed to be constructed. I was right in that the chamber is not fully constructed, but wrong in assuming it was the mechanism for collapse that still needed to be built. For some reason, the goblins are constructing fortresses on either side of the chamber, but that doesn''t really matter. The point is we cannot delay or stop them from constructing the chamber."


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    Centurion Borment chewed on his pipe stem, and the legionary''s faces behind him listening in darkened with a mixture of anger and regret. ¡°¡­Can we take the chamber and hold it?"


    "Not for long, if at all." Redgenald instantly replied, "The chamber''s too big, and there are too many goblins and tunnels. We couldn''t kill them all, and even if we were able to push back those in the chamber, more would come soon enough. It''s just not a feasible option. Really, if I knew the size of the chamber, I wouldn''t have suggested coming down here in the first place¡­"


    "If we turn back now, we will most likely encounter some kind of force and be surrounded in the tunnel as we attempted fighting our way back into the manor, assuming you could lead us back. I doubt even the scout will be able to sneak her way through the tunnel network and report on what we discovered." The centurion muttered, ruminating on their options. "I guess we could huddle in this tunnel and hope we aren''t found¡­" He said the last part a little louder and heard the grumbling of the men, who disliked the idea of hiding while their brothers and sisters fought above.


    "Not a fan of that idea," Redgenald said, "If I have to act alone, I will."


    "Don''t get your robes in a twist, lad," the grizzled man said, waving his pipe at Redgenald. "I''m just laying out the options. And the boys don''t like the last one any better than you." A short grunt of agreement filled the tunnel as those close enough to hear made their agreement known. "If we can''t go back or say here, that only leaves one direction. The question is when. We could wait until they are about to trigger the collapse, then stop them."


    Redgenald''s face shifted as he contemplated the proposal, but he shook his head after a moment and said, "No, that won''t work. At best, we would stall them for an hour or two before being cut down. From what I can see, there is only one option."


    "Which is?"


    "We charge out there and collapse the cavern now before they are ready." Silence crashed down on the tunnel, and Kathren thought she could pick up the faint echoing sound of the goblins in the chamber shouting at each other.


    Which sounded like a good idea right about now. "Are you fucking crazy!?" Kathren snapped, unable to keep quiet, "Wait, what am I saying? Of course you are! Who do I think I''m talking to? Rational people aren''t Reavers!" Taking a deep breath, Kathren forced herself to become as calm as possible and decided to try to talk to him on his level. So, like she was talking to a particularly challenging child who was simple, she said, "How is destroying a large section of our walls helping the legion?"


    "If we can''t stop it, triggering it before the enemy is in position is the next best thing. At least then, the legion will know of the danger and have some time to prepare. It would also most likely cause the dark elves to launch their attack early, but in the same vain, it will save lives as fewer legionaries are on the walls when they fall." Redgenald calmly said as he ignored her condescending tone while he answered the question. "It is the best of our bad options."


    Kathren had to admit it made sense to her, but she kept the scowl on her face as she glared at the halfwit before her. Because only a halfwit would think up such a plan in the first place. She didn''t even glance to the side when the centurion said, "So, we have to collapse a ceiling supporting a wall on top of us? Seems like a good way to die."


    "It probably is." Redgenald agreed. "But I might have a way for at least some of us to live. The odds would be better if we could sneak up on the pillars and break them one after another once we are in position. However, I will admit that everything really depends on whether all of the pillars need to collapse before the chamber roof falls. If that is the case, we should have the time to rush for the lightly defended recess on the right for shelter." Then he shrugged as if saying it was out of his hands, "In the end, how many of us survive depends entirely on how they constructed it to collapse and how the attack on the alcove goes."


    "So it''s not a complete suicide mission? But maybe that''s the wishful thinking of an old legion grunt¡­ Eh, but doesn''t matter. There''s always a lot of ''ifs'' in battle, but a chance was all we needed to hear, isn''t that right, lads?" A rumble of determination from the men followed his proclamation. None of them were even pretending to not be listening to the conversation at this point.


    There was a lot you couldn''t control as a legionary, which could mean the difference between life and death. Having the threat of death looming overhead was nothing new, though this time, it was getting a little literal. But any legionary worth the name would stake their survival against their ability to kill what stood before them. "So," Borment rumbled, a savage smile coming onto his face, "how are we doing this?"


    "It''s not going to be that easy," Kathren said, speaking up, causing everyone to look at her. Flicking her wrist dismissively at Redgenald, she continued, "He''s wrong in assuming we can sneak up. There are guards around the bases of the columns. They''re well hidden, but I spotted four around one and two at the others. As soon as we start fighting the guards or they start screaming, the goblins from both sides will collapse on us. And there is the option of retreading back into this tunnel."


    Taking in the information, Redgeanld slowly said, "No, we can''t effectively retreat while being pursued back here. There''s no real path, and clambering up all the steps would take too long. Every level would be like a bottleneck. I guess it''s an option, but it will mean the deaths of most of us, assuming we all don''t get crushed halfway." As he finished tearing apart her suggestion, Kathren did nothing.


    She expected it, as it really was a stupid option. The tunnel mouth was located both higher up and a longer distance up the side of the cave than the hollows. Assuming they could outrun a room collapsing was something she would expect Redgenald to think up, but she needed to add to her list of things the Bastard missed. When no one said anything else, he continued, "As for the attack, we''ll split up. One group will move to secure our escape path, and the other will go to the opposite side of the chamber and start breaking the columns one at a time as they fall back. A third team will move to handle the goblins caught between the other two before joining the second team."


    Borment nodded in agreement, "Makes sense and is simple. Both signs of a decent plan. How are we going to divide the teams?"


    Redgenald didn''t even hesitate before saying, "Centurion Borment will lead the assault to the right against the less fortified cubby with about two-thirds of the men. Kathren and Drogaith, my Knight, will take a few of the more stealthy men to sweep up the stragglers while I hold the rear guard position with the rest of the men."


    For the first time, Borment''s face became serious instead of his relaxed expression as he looked Redgenald up and down. "You''ll be leading my lads on a controlled retreat? Sure you can handle it?"


    Redgenald didn''t waver as he stared the old man in the eye as he spoke, "I am more than capable, as there isn''t much to it. Your task is the important one. If you can''t take the hollow, we need to know and adjust our plans as soon as possible. Now, any more questions?" He looked around, and no one spoke up. There was nothing else to say.


    Kathren noticed his eyes settle on her, but she turned away to face Borment, intending to ask him who his stealthiest men were. There was no time to deal with the arrogant bastard.

 B2 Chapter 77

    Kathren crouched at the edge of the chamber, her eyes tracking over the ridges of stone tiers exposed by the glowing mushrooms. She strained her eyes to pierce the shadows around the rims of the giant stone steps, but in the end, she couldn''t make out any more details than she already noted. There just wasn''t enough illumination for her to make out anything more at this distance.


    "You know where we need you to be positioned, correct?" Redgenald rumbled from where he squatted beside her. "And you have a path to get there?"


    "Yes, I know where I need to be, and I think I have the path, but I won''t know for sure until I''m there. It''s just too dark to make anything out properly." Kathren said flatly, not looking at him. If she had any other option, she wouldn''t have answered him at all, but proper communication was essential at the moment as their lives depended on it. She heard the faint scraping of his shoes on the stone, and she knew he had turned to face her, but she didn''t acknowledge it.


    Letting out a disappointed sigh, he said, "Look, I didn''t mean to¡ª


    "I don''t think this is the time for that Reaper." Then, turning her head to the opposite side the bastard was on as she mentally dismissed him, she ordered, "Follow me as best as you can while remaining silent." The one legionary, two brawny gangsters who were surprisingly quiet, and one wiry knight ¡ª who she was starting to suspect was a mercenary ¡ª nodded at her as they all started exiting the tunnel.


    "If the alarm is raised before you''re in position, we''ll come running," Redgenald whispered as Kathren and her team passed him. She didn''t respond, as there was nothing to say.


    Their plan had changed slightly as they arrived at the cave mouth. It wasn''t a significant change, but the benefits were worth the risk if it worked out. Instead of them all going together, Kathren and her team would move out before the others to get into a closer position between the pillars and the switchback ramp on the right before everything kicked off.


    In the worst case, Kathren and her team were spotted early and would act as a distraction for the others as they descended into the cavern. Best case, they would arrive in position before they slunk forward and started cutting down all the goblins they could before acting as a distraction for the others as they charged down.


    It really came down to how no one among them could see a plausible circumstance in which over a hundred equipped legionaries could traverse rough terrain in the dark, echoing cavern without being noticed by its inhabitants. There was a certain level of noise in the chamber, but not enough to completely conceal the legionaries'' passage. So the question was, how far could they make it before being spotted?


    As for Kathren and her team¡­ well, that was another entirely different story. If they were a team of scouts, she would give them a real chance to make it down the side of the cavern. As they were, she gave them even odds to make it halfway.


    It''s gonna be less, She thought with a grimace. The legionary hasn''t been trained properly, and the street toughs don''t have experience over rough terrain outside a city. At least the knight can handle himself, but the others couldn''t cover the first five feet and the drop without making a noise. And that just makes it all more annoying that my team has to consist primarily of his people. Smashing down on the flare of irritation, Kathren focused on her mission.


    As she hopped down the first three tiers into the cavern, Kathren counted eight scrapes of leather against stone and clinks from steel tapping together. It wasn''t like she had a hoard of floundering children chasing after her, but at the moment, it kind of seemed like it as she flinched at every sound.


    When the shouts and clattering of stones from the construction on her left picked up to fill the chamber, it was easy to miss the sound of a foot scraping against stone, but the closer they got to their objective, the more likely someone was going to notice the noise and turn to look.


    Worst of all, she couldn''t even berate them for their mistakes, as at this point, anything that she said to them about their fuckups would only make them more nervous, causing more mistakes. It was a vicious circle that would lead to their discovery, leaving Kathren with no other option but to keep her head down while moving forward, hoping for the best.


    Moving across the mostly level rock, Kathren kept up a slow pace as she felt out each step in a crouch. The stone levels that each looked to be between five and ten feet wide, while generally flat, had plenty of small ridges and divots of stone missing that would make it easy to twist an ankle. Not to mention that those behind her ¡ª well, all but the knight silently slinking along at the back of the group ¡ª had neither the experience nor muscles to stalk forward for long periods.


    It left them in something of an ironic position. They had to keep up a brisk enough pace so the legionary''s legs weren''t entirely shot by the time they reached the bottom of the cavern. However, at the same time, they didn''t have the skill to move quickly and remain silent, forcing them to slow down.


    Kathran would have been cracking up at the situation and the Poor Bastard leading the formation if she wasn''t said, ''Poor Bastard.'' From her position in the front of the group, her eyes frantically jumped from the base of one pillar to the other, scouring every inch of the trench in between. Only the pillar far to her left had goblins visible to her, not that it meant shit.


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    Any moment, one of them could pop around the corner, giving them only a few seconds to act. Not that Kathren was overflowing with options, as she could only choose between freezing, dropping to the ground, or charging.


    Her options might have been simple and limited, but their lives still depended on her making them. Kathren had learned long ago that if you wanted to live, it wasn''t so much about making one of the limited options available. What mattered more was how, but specifically when you executed the choice.


    Like much in life, timing was everything, and she would not be caught flat-footed by these little black-skinned monsters if she could help it. Putting the small herd of cows clomping along behind her and all the distance they still had to cover out of her mind, Kathren focused solely on the hurdle before her. Covering the last of the uneven surface of the ledge, she arrived at the latest ringed lip, forming the outer layers of the cavern.


    As to not appear like she was standing at the top of a mountain, outlining herself against the sky while waving her arms to draw the attention of everyone around, Kathren crouched low and slipped over the ledge, dropping six feet to the next layer. The others quickly followed, and she felt a slight loosening of the nerves in her gut.


    They might have only traversed the fourth tier and still had at least forty more to go, but now it all seemed more manageable. Like there was nothing more to worry about, and they would soon arrive. It was probably just a delusion on Kathren''s part, but she found she wasn''t as stiff as a moment before while she moved along the next ledge.


    Some of the shelves were more of a steep slope with a short hop and a skip at the end. In other sections, Kathren chose to hang over the side before dropping, as they were so tall. There was even one place where they happened across a crevice in the ground that dropped them down five or more levels while proving them a perfect hiding spot from the goblins.


    To Kathren''s surprise, after what felt like a matter of minutes, they had made it lower than the crevices placed to either side of the long room. In the back of her mind, she really didn''t expect to make it even this far, and now that she had, the back of her neck prickled as if hundreds of people were watching her.


    The intense feeling caused her to stop momentarily and look around, but when no shouts of challenge or alarms were raised, she shrugged and continued downward. However, now, every step she took was one with the intention of bursting into a run. When her eyes weren''t flicking to the incompetent goblins ''guarding'' the columns, she was picking out the path she would take them along. Time flowed by, and the only thing marking its passing was the many times when Kathren''s heart leapt into her throat as the legionary fell to the ground with a clatter or one of the gang members kicked a large stone or one of the many equally idiotic errors they made.


    And yet, Kathren blinked and found they made it into position with none of the goblins the wiser. Well, maybe it wasn''t the precise position the bastard pointed out, but it was close enough that the difference would only matter to a puffed-up blowhard. This definitely meant Redgenald''s eyebrow was twitching, and his jaw was clenched as he held back his annoyance. Then again, imagining it brought a smile to Kathren''s lips, so that was only a bonus.


    Curling her body and arms around a mushroom to block it from sight at every side except the one she wanted, she picked up and wiggled a mushroom before interposing her hand between it and where the tunnel should be a few times. For a few seconds, Kathren thought she had the wrong location and started searching the massive side of the cavern for where the fucking tunnel mouth was. Then her eyes leapt back to lock on a jiggling fungus wiggling where she first thought the tunnel should be, proving once again her great sense of direction. Why do I doubt myself?


    As the light stopped moving, it vanished two times in quick succession before appearing again and seeming to freeze in place. Long seconds passed when nothing happened, and Kathren shifted from side to side, suddenly growing anxious as everything was coming to a head. Taking a moment to glance to her sides, Kathren took in those around her.


    Her team''s heads were constantly moving, taking in the area around them. She couldn''t see their eyes with the dim light, but Kathren didn''t need to. There was enough light for her to make out the stiff tension in their bodies and movements, and she could infer their eyes were cold and hard in preparation for the blood about to be spilled. Maybe a little too prepared, if she was honest. At their current stress level, Kathren was half surprised they weren''t jumping and lashing out with their swords at the shadows around them.


    It was a drastic contrast to the older man crouched to the side, his head fixated down the last twenty feet to the bottom of the cavern. It was like he was a statue, and the world passed by around him without ever affecting him. If she didn''t know better, she would have sworn he couldn''t move as he blended into the shadows so seamlessly that it was like he was one of them.


    Turning to look back up the steps of the underground pit they were in, Kathren noticed that the green light was flickering again. Signaling back that she understood they were advancing, she carefully turned around and crept forward slowly to the lip of the level they were on.


    Ignoring her body''s complaints, Kathren held herself in place, her head slightly turned to the left. Like she was a hawk high in the sky, she watched the four forms scattered around the base of the closest column.


    Three of the small figures were sprawled out on the ground, not even pretending to be awake as they snored into the darkness. The last one was leaning against the base of the pillar itself, slumping to the side in a way that yelled he had managed to fall asleep while remaining standing. Given how easy their descent was, Kathren shouldn''t have been surprised and even excited at the lack of discipline in their enemy. And yet a small part of her was insulted by how much effort and emotions she wasted worrying that she would be discovered by these¡­ imbeciles.


    The only thing that lessened the blow was that at least one of them dedicated what had to be a not insignificant part of their life to perfecting standing on guard duty while asleep. Honestly, Kathren was kind of impressed at the well-practiced skill.


    And it would only make slitting his throat with her knife easier, she thought with a vicious curling of her lips. All she had to do now was wait for Redgenald and the others to be discovered.

 B2 Chapter 78

    Not bothering to crouch or give more than a minor thought to the sound of her footfalls, Kathren stopped. She waited for a second, hoping for any response, before swiping out with her right arm as she sighed. Her sword hacked into the goblin''s neck, but not as far as it could have, as the impact knocked the creature to the side and onto the ground.


    By the time it hit the ground, it was stirring awake, its hands jerking up to the wound on its neck, trying to contain the gushing blood. It failed in its efforts but was able to let out a desperate burble, probably trying to call out for help as the goblin''s wide eyes spun in his head.


    For a fleeting moment, Kathren was worried that someone would hear him and raise the alarm¡­ then she remembered this was reality. A reality that had her sympathizing with the bitch who led the team that slaughtered the wounded legionaries. Maybe she was such a bitch because she had to deal with these creatures? What is this world doing to me!? Kathren thought dejectedly as she looked down at the flailing goblin as he bled out.


    When he finally stopped, she looked up, seeing her team had finished off the other goblins as easily as she did, and they were all looking at her with similar expressions of disbelieving disgust. Even Drogaith''s expression shifted from his natural indifferent outlook on the world to one of contempt as he looked down at the goblin''s blood on his knives. From the way he was cradling them, it looked as if he felt guilty for dirtying the weapons.


    These creatures were worthless as guards, and they weren''t that great as warriors, either. If there was a creature that wasn''t worth killing, the goblins were coming damn close to it in Kathren''s mind.


    Can''t do it for meat as they were ¡ª if only barely ¡ª sentient, and eating them just seemed wrong. And you gained practically nothing from trying to kill them, as it wasn''t like they were performing their duties, and their gear was better thrown into a fire than scavenged.


    Not that the act of wiping all traces of them from the world wouldn''t have a cost of its own, as the smoke would only spread their stench, making the "victor" suffer for their virtuous act, allowing the goblins to claim a final victory even in defeat. Well, the special goblins did have decent gear¡­ and their weapons were deadly. How much effort did that bitch go through? Suppressing a shudder along with the burgeoning headache and nightmare playing out in her mind, she wiped her blade clean on the creature before turning to her left.


    Now that she was looking down the long trench toward the almost complete fortifications, Kathren saw the shadowy forms of the legionaries Redgenald was leading a few levels above the trench''s edge. In less than a minute, they would be jumping into the enclosed space with her and cutting down the goblins around the far pillar.


    A glance over her shoulder showed her that the group led by Centurion Borment was in a similar position if a little higher up and heading toward the switchbacks a few dozen yards to her back. That was understandable, as they had started their advance after Redgenald and had slightly farther to go.


    She knew both groups were trying their best to remain silent, but there was only so much you could do with slightly over a hundred armored men. The sounds of construction and orders were loud, echoing off the walls, but that didn''t prevent Kathren from hearing the sounds of their advance for long minutes at this point. Apparently, their foes didn''t have ears, as they missed all of it.


    Kathren wanted her time back. She wanted her frayed nerves repaired and the aftershocks of her jittering, unfulfilled tension to stop. Once both of those happened, she might consider chalking the experience up to a life lesson and moving on. Until then, her grudge will remain.


    Really, who can miss a century rushing forward in the open? She grumbled to herself. It might look like a dark, damp cave to me, but they live underground ¡ª all the stories of goblins say that ¡ª so shouldn''t it be like a noonday sun to them?


    As Kathren squatted on the ledge, waiting for the alarm to be raised, signaling the start of their attack, minutes ticked by until she eventually hissed, "Fuck it," and hopped down the last couple of ledges. Both of the other teams had advanced to the point that if they were spotted now, they would already be far better off than they had dared to hope.


    So she strolled down the last levels and then over to the sleeping goblins before cutting the standing one down. Proving that all of their previous efforts were pointless. The goblins were simply too incompetent or preoccupied to notice anything around them.


    Let''s get this over with¡­ Kathren sighed before leaning forward and falling into a jog. Quick to follow her, the other stuck to her heels as they quickly covered the distance between them and the next collum. The jostling of their equipment and footfalls echoed off the sixty-foot trench walls, filling the air with sound. As the team approached, the four forms on the ground around the pillar started to stir, finally sitting up and looking around, but it was far too late.


    Before the creatures could rub the sleep from their eyes, Kathren''s team fell upon them. She took the first, thrusting her weapon into the creature''s chests before pulling her gladius out with a twist, ripping open the wound. With the goblin still looking down at the injury, processing the pain, she brought her sword forward again, hacking into his neck. Before even a drop of blood could fall from her blade, her team had cut down the other goblins, preventing them from gathering the breath to call out or scream.


    After a quick look around the area and seeing nothing, Kathren jerked her head to the side, and they started moving down the trench to intercept Redgenald again. At that moment, disaster struck ¡ª well, as much of a disaster as goblins were capable of causing ¡ª as a "guard" at the last pillar stood up and screeched something into the chamber while stepping back and fumbling to draw his sword. If Kathren had to guess, the creature had seen the Arrogant Bastard about to make his drop into the trench.


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    Kathren didn''t stop her advance at the goblin''s noise, and apparently, no one else gave the shouting goblin any heed either, as the sound of construction continued unabated. Damn, I really hate these creatures¡­ Kathren thought, feeling embarrassed on their behalf. Oh, thank the Ancestors.


    Finally¡­ It finally happened! Some of the goblins were paying attention as the other four guards around the column jerked and rolled around, trying to get to their feet at the call of the awake goblin. After far too many seconds, the other four goblins around the pillar clambered to their feet and frantically started looking about.


    The result of their search was that two of the goblins quickly found the advancing legionaries already in the trench but said nothing as they staggered back in fear and fumbled for their weapons. The other two incompetent guards got into a shouting match with the one who initially gave the warning, and they all angrily threw their arms up into the air, waving them around to help emphasize their points.


    It took a couple seconds of shouting and gesturing from the goblin who woke the others up before the two obstinate ones finally turned around and looked at the wall of steel, flesh, and leather charging at them. Realistically, these goblins always had no chance and were going to be killed if they chose to fight.


    They could have fled before the legionaries arrived, but that decision was ripped from their clawed grasp before they could make a choice, as their utter ineptitude sealed their fate. When the first goblin darted to the side toward the switchbacks, the others followed the unspoken signal, not that it gained them much.


    The goblins stumbled into a run, but they were cut down before making it a dozen steps. Kathren did notice that the three who saw the legionaries coming sooner made it a few strides farther than the other two and that all of them were surprisingly quick on their feet. Not that being skilled in cowardice was anything to be proud of.


    The one thing Kathren could say about the goblins was that they could teach anyone a lesson about screaming. It was like watching a child run into a flock of chickens, sending them scattering and squawking in every direction. And before cold steel could chop into their flesh, those small forms kicked up such a blood-curdling racket that it filled the entire chamber.


    Enough of one that finally, after everything that had happened, someone bothered to look down and see a century of legionaries inside the pillar trench. That was what Kathren assumed, at least, as the cave was filled with frantic shouts of command. The construction inside the cavity halted as the goblins burst into frenzied movement, with the goblins suddenly running in every direction.


    After a few seconds, she could see figures moving to the edge of the nook before looking down at them and pointing at them while barking in their harsh language. Not that Kathren or any of the others were overly concerned, as there was little the goblins could do at this point.


    Throwing a look over her shoulder as she slowed to a walk for the last ten or so feet to the milling legionaries, Kathren glanced along the trench. The other team of legionnaires were marching their way up the switchbacks, shields raised like they were assaulting a fortified wall. Which, Kathren supposed, in many ways, that was what they were doing.


    Stopping next to Redgenald, Kathren turned and studied the pillars'' base for the first time as the legionaries formed up on its far side closer to the nearly finished fort and swarming goblins. Within the first second of scrutinizing the stone casting, Kathren''s brow furrowed.


    The construction was strange. Instead of a solid base, the bottom five feet of the column were dozens of smaller circular pillars that had a gap of a few inches between each of them. As Kathren leaned closer and looked up the length of the column, she studied cracks that marred the structure''s smooth surface, suggesting it was multiple blocks placed on top of each other instead of a single casting.


    Speaking more to herself than anyone else, Kathren asked, "Are the pillars composed of multiple sections?" At the same time she spoke, she was reaching out to run her hand along the surface of one of the smaller pillars, only for her arm to be stopped.


    Looking to the side in annoyance, Kathren followed the arm attached to the large hand, unsurprised to see Redgenald holding her wrist. His eyes darted to her momentarily, then back to the collection of stones, "We don''t know how delicately these stones are placed. A touch could cause them to collapse."


    Yanking her arm back as she ignored the warmth of his hand, Kathren snapped, "You think I''m a fool who doesn''t know that!? I saw a goblin leaning against these as they slept. I doubt my light touch will cause them to collapse." In all honesty, the thought hadn''t occurred to her as she was so focused on the stone, but that didn''t mean he had the right to talk to her like that.


    ¡°¡­I am sorry. I didn''t mean to imply anything. Being cautious in my line of work has never served me wrong, and I reached without thought."


    "Yes, I''m sure being cautious is a necessity for a Reaver, but in a battle, it will get us killed. So will you blast that with a wave of psy, or should I? Or do you want to carefully calculate the benefits and risks to find the most optimal choice while the goblins charge at us?"


    Redgenald clenched his jaw in irritation before letting out a long sigh. Turning to the side, he walked around the pillar before calling out to the legionaries, "Pull back behind the pillar!"


    Though it lacked the perfect coordination of a century bound together in a Union, the legionaries quickly moved in a coordinated effort as they split around the ten-foot square pillar. They streamed past Redgenald, Kathren, and the Knight, putting ten feet between the two groups.


    Leaning to the side, Kathren''s eyes widened in surprise and a little fear as she realized hundreds of goblins were pouring down the switchbacks, some literally as they tried to clamber down the sheer side of the walls. "Might want to put a little hustle in your movements," Kathren said, anxiety entering her voice.


    Redgenald only grunted in acknowledgment, his brow wrinkled with some internal effort. "The psy suppression is greater than I expected¡­ but I¡ª There!" Hand flicking out, the stacked stones exploded across the ground, and for a moment, the sound of flapping feet was overshadowed by the clattering of rocks.


    Relief flooded through Kathren at the first pillar''s destruction, and then she found herself being spun about and hauled down the trench. She felt a spike of annoyance that Redgenald would dare to drag her around, but that was quickly forgotten by the increasing sound of tons of cracking and shattering stones filling the chamber. Putting all she had into pumping her legs, Kathren sprinted after Redgenald, who tried and partially succeeded in shouting over the stone avalanche, "Fall back! Get to the next pillar! Move your asses!"

 B2 Chapter 79

    Kathren could feel every chaotic beat of her heart reverberating through her body, yet she could not hear it. All that filled her ears were the cataclysmic sounds of house-sized stones breaking against the ground and each other as they fell hundreds of feet to land what felt like inches behind her heels from the way the ground was shaking. It wasn''t just the sounds that kept her moving either, as shards of stone were spraying around her ankles and hitting her back, pushing her to keep moving.


    "Hah!" Kathren grunted and stumbled forward when something bashed into her left shoulder. She felt a sharp spike of pain, and then a numbness spread across her upper body and down her arm, but she hardly even noticed. All of her attention was focused on getting her legs back under her before she tumbled to the ground. It also didn''t help that both of her arms weren''t hers at the moment, making getting her balance back challenging.


    Try as she might, Kathrens face was headed straight for the stone floor before her body was yanked up and to the side. Her sight of the uneven green-tinged stone tilted, and she saw Redgenald. His head was slightly tilted toward her as he hauled her upright, but his eyes were locked ahead, his jaw and neck clenched in determination as shards of stone hung in the ethereal air around him. Huh, guess he really is mostly human, Kathren idly thought. An elf would never get that much stubble¡­ I like it.


    Blinking, the slowed-down world lurched forward again, and Kathren let out a scream of effort. She lunged forward and planted her left leg into the ground to push herself into a small hop. It was enough for her to reset her stride and take most of her weight off Redgenald. However, the damage was already done, as their speed was a fraction of what it was before she was almost knocked over.


    They had made it about half of the way to the next pillar, which was already well past the point Redgenald should have ordered the legionaries to stop and turn around to reform their shield wall and perform a controlled retreat. Yet, for some reason, he wasn''t in a hurry to give the order, and the others weren''t coming to a stop and looking around. They weren''t shifting their eyes away from the false safety of the pillar either, which was apparent as the closest person was at least ten strides ahead of the duo, and the distance was still lengthening. What kind of pansies feared a few tons of rocks falling on their heads. Kathren mentally scoffed as she continued to run. They should try growing a pair.


    Not that she was faulting them for continuing to follow Redgenald''s order. The only reason she was questioning it now was that she suddenly became aware that the order would likely get them all killed.


    Kathren could see the others coming to the same conclusion if they were blessed like her, but sadly, they weren''t. After all, looking backward for a second was part of the perks that came with your head getting lower than your ankles. Even if it was an accident and only for a second, the event gave her all the information she needed to conclude they wouldn''t outrun the goblins for long.


    Chest heaving more from the adrenaline pumping through her than the sprint, Kathren slowed. She pulled on Redgenald''s grip, forcing him to slow down and partially turn if he wanted to stay with her. As his grip remained firm, even strengthening, she couldn''t stop a small smile from touching her lips.


    The cacophony behind her had finally died down to simply deafening echoes, but more importantly, she had stopped being pelted with stone shards. Taking the chance to confirm what she saw with a second look, Kathren glanced over her shoulder, taking in the mound of stone blocks. The ten-foot square pillar that took up the center of the trench now looked like a heap of blocks you gave to a child to play with, except these ones were blocking what could have been a major street in a city.


    Building blocks was the best description of them, though they were more rectangles than squares, even with the broken-off chunks, supplying an unneeded indication of where all the shards had come from. Eyes flicking up, Kathren felt her stomach churn, and bile burn at her throat as she looked over the blocks until her gaze lifted above the dripping and splattered stones to the ceiling. Where her eyes locked on a stub of stone, which was all that was left of the column, a couple hundred feet in the air.


    "They designed the column to fall apart," Kathren stated, looking back to the pile as she inspected the tops and bottoms of the stones while mentally blocking out the squashed and splattered body parts of the goblins, imagining how they would lock together under pressure but would separate given a few feet of space.


    "What?!" Redgenald snapped over the sound of the settling stones, his concern warning with the underlying urgency in his voice. "Pick up the pace, Kathren! We have to catch up with the others and from a line! What''s slowing you down? Do you need me to carry you?"


    At his last comment, Kathren was about to snap that she didn''t need his help and could make it on her own, but her eyes caught movement as she was about to turn to him. It was like a dam slowly being washed out as it finally became unable to hold back the tide. "We can''t outrun the goblins!" Kathren shouted to Redgenald. They''ll catch up before we can reach the pillar and form up."


    Hundreds of goblins were clambering over the stone like a black tide, most of them bending down to claw themselves forward on all fours. The only reason why one of the little monsters hadn''t leaped upon their backs and bore them to the ground already was because of the collapsing pillar smashing the fastest of the creatures. Knowing what they had to do, Kathren planted her feet, coming to a halt as she turned to the goblins. The sudden reversal ripped her arm from Redgenald''s grip as she shouted, "Incoming goblins! Form up! Form up! Form up!"


    Redgenald finally half turned to face her, giving her part of his attention. A look of aggravation twisted his face, only for the expression to vanish as his skin turned sickly in the green light a second later when his eyes flicked past her.


    He had taken in everything at a glance as he eventually deigned to process her words, and she could see the moment he came to the same conclusion as her as his jawline hardened. Still partially staggering forward and half turned, Redgenald took up the shout to "form up," their combined voices making it over the sound of thrumming feet on stone. Kathren even felt him release a pulse message telling them to halt and rally.


    Keeping one eye on the disorganized legionaries, who had become a comet, she saw the closest individuals and pairs turn, reacting to their calls, but the bulk continued onward. It looked like most of the legionaries didn''t even feel the message, as they didn''t skip a beat in their running. "Damn this suppression," Redgenald hissed between calling out to those who had turned.


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    Kathren saw the moment the legionaries processed what was coming, what Redgenald was asking of them. She saw them waver as looks of fear and desperation appeared on their faces. But Redgenald''s booming voice drew their attention to him, and his words put steel back into their spines.


    "Form up on me! Remember your duty! Remember why we''re here! For the 15th! For the Republic! To me!" Seeing that he got the attention of the nearby legionaries, Redgenald slowed before stopping entirely and turning to face the oncoming wave of goblins, still shouting to rally the men.


    Quickly moving to join him, Kathren planted herself next to Redgenald, finding she wasn''t alone. From somewhere, Drogaith had appeared next to her, his eyes glittering and a manic grin showing off his teeth as he bounced from side to side on the balls of his feet, only barely stopping himself from rushing forward like a rabid hound.


    Peeking over her shoulder again, Kathren''s heart sank. She had hoped, though she couldn''t bring herself to actually believe. A significant portion of the legionaries had broken off the mass to trickle back to Redgenald, but most continued forward. Without the full complement of men, they had no hope of holding back the goblins in the wide trench.


    Turning, Kathren reached out to the wiry man with her good arm, grabbing him by the collar and pulling him to face her. His body came first, but she had to turn his torso nearly all the way around before he looked her in the eye, as he really didn''t want to look away from the rapidly approaching goblins. And when he finally did look at her, she almost wished he hadn''t, as madness danced within the depths of his hazel eyes.


    Kathren wasn''t concerned about the knife tip pricking her side or the one tickling her neck, but his eyes sent a shiver down her spine. There was something broken within the man. And only now, on the verge of battle, was it poking through. While he might be able to be guided in a general direction, there was no way to guarantee he wouldn''t turn on the one who wielded him.


    Making her voice as soft and soothing as she could manage, to the point she feared it would be consumed by the tumult around her, she said, "You need to get in front of the men still fleeing and force them to turn around. We won''t be able to hold without them."


    Drogaith''s burning eyes looked into Kathren''s. He slowly forced his torso to face the front and looked at the charging goblins before rotating back to face her. She could see the rejection on his lips, but Redgenald''s voice cut in before he could voice it, "Go, Drogaith, do what she said. And if you can''t get back to me in time, complete the mission."


    The fire in the wiry man''s eyes blazed, and it was like Redgenaled''s order was a physical blow. In response, Drogaith snarled at him over Kathren''s head. In a commanding voice laced with enough psy that it was like a strong wind hitting her back and would accept no argument, Redgenald said, "I ORDER YOU TO GO!"


    At the words, the knight''s body began shuddering as if he was convulsing, but slowly but surely, he was moving away from the goblins. As if it was an afterthought, Redgenald said, his voice slightly raspy, "The faster you move, the sooner you return. And by then, there will be plenty of blood."


    A sudden grin split Drogaith''s face, and Kathren thought his canines suddenly looked too sharp to be human as his shuddering movements stopped, and he shot off down the trench in a blur. Kathren followed him with her eyes for a moment, seeing how divided their force had become.


    Most of the men were still running, well on their way to reaching the second column. Kathren couldn''t blame them. The way the pillar collapsed was a surprise to all of them and more than a little shocking, and no one expected how fast the goblins really were. It was human nature to fixate on a goal while mentally excluding everything around them¡­


    Okay, Kathren was a little annoyed and kinda blamed those at the back of the group for not looking around and blindly following those in front. But she understood why this turned into a cluster fuck¡­ It doesn''t make the legionaries any less of a pack of pussies, though.


    Pushing the irritation out of her mind, Kathren turned to focus on their opponents. It was like the goblins were trying to outrun death as they rushed forward. Honestly, within this trench, Kathren would probably have better odds of outrunning a galloping horse than them. At least with the horse, it was likely to misplace a hoof and break a leg as it tumbled.


    Glancing backward again, she studied those who responded to Redgenald''s rallying cry. They only numbered around a dozen of the forty legionaries in their force, and then she couldn''t help but let out a sigh. Past the retreating bastards at the far end of the trench, she noticed the cherry on the shit pie they had been served.


    Borment wasn''t even a fourth of the way up the switchbacks, and the rest of the path was packed with goblins trying to force their way down. Kathren didn''t want to point fingers here, as that would do nothing, but it appeared Redgenald had greatly underestimated the abilities and ferocity of their foe.


    As she turned to face the closest threat, Kathren felt a tendril probing her mind. Recognizing the psy, she accepted the connection and immediately sent a message while pushing an image into the network, "We have another problem; if we want somewhere to retreat to, we have to hold."


    "Understood. But will have to survive the next few minutes to worry about the oncoming fight. Extend the network, but only to those close. The strain of maintaining the Union is greater than I expected."


    Kathren only grunted in response, as she could feel the unsteady wavering of their connection. As one of Redgenalds talkative gangsters arrived, followed closely by a legionary, she extended a tendril to them before dismissing them from her mind as she focused on the approaching goblins. The Union would grow, and she would supply her part of the willpower and psy to keep it stable until she collapsed from exhaustion.


    That wasn''t an exaggeration, as weeks of fish training were dedicated to that circumstance. And even past basic training, there were tests every six months inside the legion camp to ensure that no one forgot the skill. It was simply that important.


    Even with that admission, she couldn''t deny there wasn''t a seed of resentment inside her at regularly suffering utter exhaustion. That seed existed in everyone. But, like all veterans, the feelings had been buried deep after the first time she was pushed to her limits in combat, where only their training kept them alive.


    Kathren took in the front lines of the goblins only a couple dozen yards from her, who were¡­ wearing nothing but loincloths. With how they were bent over, almost hopping forward with their stringy limbs, she only got flashes of their backsides and, thankfully, not their fronts, but it was still too much for her liking.


    Drawing her gladius with her right arm, Kathren swung it a few times before twirling her wrist as a warm-up as she took stock of herself. Her left arm was still mostly numb, but it had started to prickle with discomfort. Every beat of her heart made her shoulder feel like the roots of pain inside her chest were spreading a little further as her body unnecessarily screamed that something was wrong¡­ So there was that. And then there was the fact her body was in an all-around state of being sore and beaten down from days of fighting, but at least she had most of her psy reserves.


    Gives the goblins a nice handicap. Kathren thought with a sneer.


    "How long can we hold!?" Redgenald shouted with both his voice and mind, focusing the thoughts of those in the Union.


    Few though they might have been, only numbering fourteen, but that didn''t mean they let despair overcome them. Resolve to buy time for their comrades filled the mental network, and they took the approach and sound of the hooting goblins as a challenge to overcome. Shouting the traditional response in unison, Kathren felt her throat thrum with the others as she roared, "Until we are relieved!"

 B2 Chapter 80

    "Do not conserve your strength." Redgenald sent into the Union, "Now is not the time for half measures."


    Psy churning through her body, Kathren lowered herself into a crouch as she pulled her good arm back, preparing to thrust her gladius. At the same time, she slid her right leg back, rotating her body ninety degrees until her bad arm faced the oncoming goblins. She had no shield to protect her body and stop the on-rushing hoard, but she felt no fear.


    Kathren''s mind was merging with Redgenald''s and all the others, and she knew ¡ª did not think or believe, but knew ¡ª that for the first few moments of the battle, she would not be in danger. After the first second and the initial clash took place, well, that would be an entirely different matter, but it was also too far into the future for her to waste the effort in imagining all the conceivable possibilities.


    A battle was a time of action. Taking a moment to think was taking a moment for someone to land a killing blow on you. One of the most significant benefits of the Union was that it allowed those within it to enter a flow state naturally, where actions were instinctual and instant.


    More than that, everyone''s accumulated fighting experiences were pervading the front of their minds, and everyone was about to act on instinct. Whether those instincts were born from your own experiences or another''s, it didn''t matter.


    When you combine the experiences of everyone in the mental network, you get something far greater than its parts. Given such an ability, it was no wonder the legions could carve out a nation within such hostile lands.


    Kathren''s eyes were locked on her section of the advancing mass of goblins. Given that they looked more like churning waves rolling onto the beach than living beings, the individuals she was watching changed, but her eyes never strayed from her part of the hoard.


    At the back of her mind, she was dimly aware of the center of the goblins'' line surging forward and the sides falling back. It was almost like they wanted to stab the points of their two formations together and see who came out on top.


    The mental image amused her, but the reality killed the amusement in its infancy. Their fourteen legionaries were gathered in only the loosest sense, and for them to have the time to brace themselves before the goblins hit their line, Redgenald had them form up in a spearhead formation. A hollow one that the goblins no doubt thought they could smash through in a second.


    In the cave''s dim light, the goblins'' dark eyes shimmered as if the green light of the mushrooms was lapping over pools of water. Their fangs glistened as they dripped saliva, moistening their lips as they twisted back with malicious glee. In their eyes, the legionaries were ripe for the slaughter, and they would willingly claim them.


    Kathren watched the monsters, their lower bodies compressed before bursting forward, their blocky black arms stretched out, clawed hands grasping for their next purchase. Their too-long arms would clamp onto the ground, acting as stilts to roll their bodies forward, allowing them to pull up and compress their legs before they smacked into the ground on the descent, ready to thrust them forward again.


    The longer Kathren watched, the slower her heart beat and the longer each second took. Chaotic as it might look, there was a rhythm to the goblins'' movements, and she found a form of peace in the slapping of their feet and hands.


    With her head slightly bobbing to the pattern, she waited, poised for action, as they came closer and closer, covering the last ten feet. It was only a matter of a second, yet it felt like she was watching sap flow down a tree, the passing of time only marked by the beating of her heart.


    Thump.


    Seven feet. Three are mine.


    Thump.


    Five feet. One is mine.


    Thump.


    Now.


    Like she was doing nothing more than standing in a practice yard in front of a training dummy, she uncoiled her body, driving her sword forward into the gap between the two goblins before her. She noticed the scorn on the creature''s faces. The anticipation of spilling her blood, and somewhere deep inside, she felt a slight flicker of contempt, but she was already moving on to the next opponents in her mind.


    Pushing her psy out of her gut in two tendrils, she grabbed the two spikes hanging at her waist and moved them forward. The one on her right hip shot along a line at nearly a forty-five-degree angle down from her waist and buried itself into the stone, but not before it drove through the goblin''s hand closest to her, anchoring it to the ground.


    The second spike on her left hip dipped down, nearly clipping the stone floor before swooping back up at a rightward diagonal angle. Before the goblin preparing to leap at her face could react, the spike impacted the creature on the side of its chest with the flat of the blade, knocking it out of its stance. But, more importantly, the impact pushed the goblin''s upper chest into position to connect with Kathren''s thrust.


    As she felt the tip of her blade sink into flesh and begin to scrape along its rib cage, she pulled the second spike back toward her and down, burying its tip and most of its length into the back of the goblin''s head rooted to the ground.


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    Even though the goblin with the punctured skull was already dead, she continued to drive the spike down, as it was still flipping forward at a significant speed. Instead of letting it continue and knock her off her feet, she changed the momentum, causing the corpse to skid across the ground and land at her and Redgenald''s feet.


    Drawing her short sword back and to the right, she guided the trajectory of the goblin, which was still impaling itself on her sword, to land on the other side of her body. However, the maneuver left her gladius pointed toward the ground, leaving her open to attacks for the moment it would take to pull the weapon free and raise it again.


    It was an opportunity that the goblin behind the first two would not miss, regardless of how surprised it was about the deaths of the ones in the rank in front of it. The creature decided not to try to leap at her in an attempt to knock her over, instead choosing to charge across the stone ground. At the last moment, the goblin lurched back and swiped at her spikes that were driving toward its chest to knock them out of the air.


    All things considered, it wasn''t a horrible plan. After all, the spike was controlled by psy, and if his body came into contact with the tendrils, it would either break them or gouge out a chunk of her psy. Either possibility was one she couldn''t afford. Then again, the goblin hit nothing but air.


    It wasn''t so much luck as a faint on Kathren''s part, as the spikes were only meant to buy her the moment she needed to recover her sword. As the spikes sharply rose from the body of the goblins, they traveled two-thirds of the way to her next target in front of her before turning on a copper, almost making a one-eighty and shooting along the new angle.


    The spikes traveled out of Kathrens line of sight, striking the arm and chest of one of the goblins pressuring Redgenald''s man and crippling the creature before she yanked the spikes out, having one hover around her head and the other rotating around her waist. Before her weapons had returned, the injured foe was hacked down, adding its own blood to the growing pool at her feet.


    As she helped Gregory to her right, her sword lashed out at the goblin before her, who flinched, causing him to step to the side to dodge the attack. Writing the goblin off, she moved her eyes to the next, who seemed to gain some level of fear by the sudden deaths of his comrades. Regaining a balanced stance, Kathren felt, though she didn''t see, Redgenald strike the flinching goblin with a kind of spike of his own ¡ª that were more like large hollow needles than her long diamonds with a handle and loop on its end ¡ª puncturing the creature''s spine and causing it to crumple to the ground.


    In the same seconds that Kathren had handled¡­ well, if you counted the two that she bated and wounded into being killed as half-kills, then three goblins, he had cut down six and a half. Say what you will about the man ¡ª and there was a lot Kathren would say, like how he was an inconsiderate, arrogant bastard who had a tree shoved so far up his ass that he had to enter a room bent in half ¡ª he was a good fighter.


    From what she could feel from the Union, his control over his legion sword and shield could be placed into textbooks as examples. And those skills were only magnified by the five spikes spinning and lashing out around his body. Any person who had the dedication to control six tendrils was one to be admired, though Green still had him beat when it came to skill.


    As the goblins rushed forward, his large form parted their formation like a bolder placed into the center of a river. As the little monsters broke apart, the toll he reaped at their passing was strewn about his feet. If the goblins could turn and run instead of facing them, Kathren was sure they would, as their once confident faces were twisted with fear at the growing pile of bodies.


    But that was not how battle worked, and those at the front either killed or were killed as those behind ¡ª unwitting of the horror they were rushing toward ¡ª pushed forward. Those of the goblins that could leap to his sides to fight Kathren or those covering Redgenald''s other flank did, but that was impossible for all of them, as there simply wasn''t enough space, so he continued to cut them down.


    The dedication of the spineless goblins to avoiding conflict with Redgenald only played into his hands, as it gave him more openings to stab his spikes into. As more of them died, their attempts to avoid conflict with him only grew, the beasts even going so far as to claw at those of their number around themselves to escape. None of it helped.


    Bodies mounted as everyone in the legionaries'' formation claimed multiple ranks of their enemies, yet it wasn''t enough. There were simply too few against too many. The outermost edges of the wings of their formation had over a dozen feet between them and the trench walls, making it impossible for them to prevent the goblins from simply going around.


    Their foes were unarmored, disorganized cowards only worthy of running down already wounded prey, but their numbers would eventually be enough. Every second, the legionaries were taking multiple steps backward, not from the pressure of the attack, but to prevent the goblins from sweeping around and enveloping them.


    Determined and steadfast as the legionaries were, they were still only human. Days of combat added up, and this latest trial was proving to be too much for them to surmount. Within the first minute, the first legionary lost his balance before being yanked into the ranks of the goblins and ripped apart. As his skin was shredded and rent by his attacker''s claws, his blood-curdling screams overcame the sounds of battle for a single ringing moment.


    With his loss, the mental network shuddered, nearly destabilizing and requiring large influxes of psy from everyone to keep it stable in the cave''s hostel environment. Redgenald could have reduced the cost of psy if he had concentrated on the problem and focused his willpower, but that was impossible. It was already impressive that he could maintain the Union to the extent he was as he took on the brunt of the goblins'' charge.


    Which was a tragedy because the cost of psy was too much for one of the legionaries. He staggered from a backlash as he gave the last of his psy before dropping out of the Union. It was an opening that the opportunistic goblins would not let pass as they lunged at the man, claws splayed.


    The legionaries on either side of him tried to deflect the attacks, but they only partially succeeded. The man''s sword arm was shredded like it was placed into a meat grinder, and his left leg was cut to the bone, all but severing the calf muscle. His brothers were able to cut down the goblins and throw the wounded man into the center of the formation, but they took wounds of their own doing so.


    And with the latest to drop out of the mental network in a matter of seconds, not to mention the gaps in the line, the pressure only mounted on the rest of them.


    "Curl it in!" Redgenald ordered, his mind projecting resolve and confidence to the rest of them, "Close the rear ranks and form a circle! The others will have to cut us free!"

 B2 Chapter 81

    The legionaries'' reaction was instant. As soon as the command was thought, they started shuffling inward instead of back. And yet, the order came too late. While the center of the hoard of goblins had charged forward, and the edges slowed in anticipation of an easy victory, the fighting allowed them to catch up. Now, the sides of the goblin hoard had more than made up the lost ground as the center became backed up and congested, and they were moments from enveloping the flanks of the human formation.


    When a unit was moving together, it was basic knowledge that if you made a turn, those at the edges of the formation would have to move faster than those on the inner section if you wanted the ranks to remain uniform. The outer corners of the humans'' arrowhead were desperately fighting to keep the goblins out of the center of the formation against increasingly large numbers. As if that wasn''t enough, they suddenly had to completely reverse direction and all but sprint to maintain their place in the shield wall.


    The unanticipated burden was too much, and the men began to falter. As they lashed out around them with their swords and shields to keep the goblins back, their steps slowed, increasing the distance between them and the rest of the group. It was a vicious spiral with no escape.


    Kathren felt their spike of desperation, how they were beset on three sides as they struggled to rejoin the rest of the legionaries. She could feel the anguish of the men who were standing next to them a second before, suddenly becoming unable to offer support to their isolated brothers, for providing it would mean sentencing the rest of them to death as well.


    In the end, it came down to a simple question. What would result in the least loss of life? The legionaries had to close the circle, and those who could not reach the perimeter would have to be left behind.


    When she felt the sudden disappearance of three minds in quick succession from the Union, it was as if someone had ripped off a part of her soul. Kathren had experienced the feeling many times but had never gotten used to it. It was like a numb, but still present, limb was removed.


    Kathren couldn''t help probing the mental wounds with her mind, and every time, it was like jabbing needles into her heart. Because the feeling corresponded to the death of a legionary.


    She didn''t know them. Even as she spent the last days fighting alongside them, Kathren hadn''t spoken more than a few dozen words to any individual legionary besides Centurion Borment. Then again, she didn''t need to know their specific stories.


    Within the decade and change she spent in the legion, she had heard what would be nearly identical tales plenty of times. There''s usually someone left behind and who they want to return to. It could be they are running from something or maybe even chasing glory as they seek to prove themselves. However, whether they came from a prominent merchant family in a major city or were the child of the village drunk in bum-fuck-nowhere, it didn''t really matter. They came here to serve, and that service claimed their lives.


    But not her.


    No matter how closely Kathren danced to death, it never claimed her. She wasn''t the one who froze in winter, died of fever, or was cut down in combat. And she definitely never happened to be in a position where she was sacrificed for the survival of the majority.


    Time after time, she was always one of the ones who could walk away. And if she was honest¡­ how it ate at her. There had been a constant guilt that she could feel weighing down her shoulders like a cloak since she was a child. It affected her choices and drove her to make something of herself rather than wasting away in the slums. Because she knew, even as a young child, that if she stayed, she would watch everything around her, including her body, decay and collapse with every passing year.


    It was one of the main reasons she became a scout and, before that, why she joined the legion and stayed inside the death machine. Kathren would not¡ª could not, take any action that intentionally got herself killed; that would be an injustice to all who died in her place. But performing one''s duty in the legion could not be done without risk.


    And yet, with all of that said¡­ Kathren wouldn''t be anywhere else. She loved fighting. The hot blood pelting and running down her face like the tears she could never shed. The heat of flesh and thundering of hearts as two sides clashed together, a broad smile perpetually stretching her face.


    It wasn''t the killing or death that sent a thrill of exhilaration through her, but the struggle with life in the balance.


    Kathren could look upon her past and see, in a moment of clarity, that she sought out challenges. The greater the odds against her, the better. Because either outcome was acceptable to her. Death would finally claim her, or she would overcome the odds while dancing across the razor''s edge once more.


    This time, however, the scales were just weighted against her too much¡­ and she couldn''t see a way out. And that was okay with her. She had lived a far better life than anyone would have expected her to.


    That didn''t mean she would give up. No, Kathren still fought, standing firm in a ring with six humans around the man in their center, cutting down goblin after goblin. Even the wounded man was contributing, as he used his left arm to lash out with attacks between their legs.


    Blood flowed, and the bodies mounted. Every one of her breaths was taken as if she was a woman suffocating. And still, she pressed on, striking out with her spikes and sword. Yet for every one she struck, another two were pushing their way forward.


    The creatures hooted and barked as they lunged at Kathren and the others, but it was the probing tests of a predator wearing out its prey before going in for the kill. Every lung needed to be met with a swing or casting of psy, or their opponent might just commit to the attack and catch them off guard.


    Short though the battle might have been, the toll it was taking on them was overwhelming. Her sword felt like it had a large bag of grain attached to the tip, and her right arm was so numb and tingly that it could give her left arm a run for its money. And with all the hopping around, her left knee throbbed like her heart and felt like a wind could make it give out. But that was far from the worst of it.


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    No, what made it all hopeless was that their psy was almost depleted, and the Union''s existence was numbered in seconds. Their collective willpower to resist the corrosive atmosphere was not being replaced, as everyone needed most of it to keep their bodies moving. Whatever psy reserves they had left was quickly vanishing as everyone used it liberally to enhance their blows and block attacks that would have otherwise landed.


    With the only resource keeping them alive suddenly becoming very scarce, they all could see the near future. It didn''t help that everyone within the mental network knew that the Union was the only thing preventing them from being overwhelmed. And that wasn''t even mentioning how hard it was to continuously dredge up the willpower to keep fighting when the people facing the direction help was supposed to come from kept providing clear images of the rescue team struggling to make progress. I guess fighting against these short fucks can be a curse as much as a boon.


    You shouldn''t think in battle, but there were moments when you could look around, where everything became crystal clear, and you could feel the pulse of a fight. And this fight was over. All that was left was a death rattle where they were going to determine how many they could take with them¡­ At the realization, the deranged twisting of Kathren''s lips shifted into a contented smile.


    Chest heaving as she tried to quench the fire burning inside her, Kathren leaned her body onto the hilt of her sword. With her weight behind it, the tip of her blade sank into the goblin''s chest at her knees as the creature flayed its hands in a futile attempt to stop the steel''s descent. At the same time, Kathren was warding off the other goblins with her remaining spike. The other spike was somewhere around her feet, but she didn''t have the psy to pick it back up even if she found it.


    Twisting her blade and exhaling in a shout of effort, Kathren drove her sword through the creature and into the one below. Pulling back and planting her foot on the latest body to join the mound before her, she sucked in a breath as she pulled on her sword, only for the twinges of pain she had been ignoring to become a knife of pain, causing her leg to give out.


    Not willing to fall onto her back or side, Kathren crashed onto her bad knee, sending a spike of agony up her body to the base of her skull. The pain seemed to gather in the back of her mind as it attempted to consume Kathren''s vision with dark tendrils.


    With a snarl, Kathren willed the tendrils back, somewhat surprised to find that she kept a firm grip on her gladius, and the fall even helped pull the blade free of the body to boot. For whatever good the weapon would do her, as all she could do with it at the moment was wave the steel strip around like a fan. If only the goblins were composed of their stench, then it would be possible for me to dispel them if I moved the weapon fast enough¡­ A pity.


    Then again, while her sword wasn''t much of a threat, her spike was. At least it was enough of one that the goblins were still hesitant to be the first to leap forward. Or maybe it was the steady dripping of blood falling off the steel cone that was keeping them back. Either way, it was giving her the time to recover.


    Kathren felt a flair of amusement. Suddenly, from her perspective, it was like the tip of her blade was the end of a fishing rod, and the spike was a lure ready to catch the first thing to move forward. The moment stretched, and Kathren reached for the strength to pop to her feet, only to realize she was scraping the bottom of the barrel.


    That wasn''t to say she was about to collapse from exhaustion, but she was finding it hard to draw out the last bit of strength inside of her. Sure, this mission could still make a difference in the battle the 15th Legion was fighting, whether they knew of it or not. But would holding out a bit longer really matter?


    Turning her attention to the mental network, it was like Kathren had stepped into the sunlight after climbing out of a cave. Redgenald''s mind was a beacon of light. His confidence in their success was unwavering, and his steely determination pushed them to keep fighting ¡ª to not give up.


    As she probed for the reason, she felt a burst of information. She had to stand firm for at most a minute, as the mission would soon be a success. Redgenald was gathering and focusing his psy, and he almost had enough to release a pulse message that would blast past the interference and make it to Centurion Borment. So long as he and any legionaries in the way had a brain, they would know what to do next.


    I still got a bit more, Kathren decided, forcing herself to her feet. The movement didn''t really work out, as she ended up on a foot and some toes, unwilling to put much weight down on her left leg. As she stood up, she felt an alarming rolling pop in her leg and even let out a squeaking moan ¡ª that she was glad no one heard ¡ª in anticipation of pain that never came. Kathren could put her leg down. However, and this was important, she really didn''t want to risk it. While she balanced on one and a half legs, she bent her elbow and raised her probably dislocated shoulder as far as she could before moving her head halfway to rub her brow, smearing her blood-stained fingers across her skin.


    "That''s why I hate helmets," Kathren said conversationally to no one. "You can never scratch an itch properly without taking it off. Such a hassle."


    To her utter surprise, a large goblin with a slightly lighter shade of skin replied in a horse rasp, "Then let me take your head. Never have problem again." Before Kathren could respond, the goblin chuckled wetly while showing off its fangs, its eyes gleaming with malicious intellect.


    Forcing her arm to be steady, Kathren flashed her teeth at the creature as she said. "Bring it Bitch." Then, she waited for the goblin to attack, her sword and spike raised to launch a retaliation. Before either of them could move, a strong wind blasted into Kathren¡¯s back, shredding her tether to the union and shoving her forward to collapse onto the pile of dead.


    The world spun around her, and it was like a blacksmith had taken it upon himself to beat her head with his largest hammer. Or maybe she downed a few wine barrels without knowing it, and the bill was finally coming due. Which would really suck, as paying the price of an alcohol-fueled night without remembering it sounded like one of the greatest miscarriages of justice she had ever heard of.


    Groaning, she tried to push herself up with the use of the warm and sticky bodies beneath her but only managed to flop onto her side and look up into the dark cavern. It was some combination of her left arm giving out and the bodies shifting, but her attempt to get up failed. And now she was feeling¡­ empty. Like it was better for her to just lay here and¡ª


    Redgenald appeared above her, and she thought she saw his eyes soft and filled with concern for a moment, but as soon as his eyes flicked up and locked eyes with her, the emotion vanished like it was all her imagination. In its place, beneath the blood running down his face from his eyes and nose, there was only fury. He stiffly reached down, grabbing Kathren''s collar and arm. Turning and partially lifting Kathren from her position, Redgenald let go of her arm before rearing back and slapping her across the cheek.


    Head rocking to the side, Kathren stared down the trench for a moment before the hit registered, and she turned to look at the bastard. As her head was still turning, she saw the blur from the side as his hand returned, striking her other cheek with the back of his hand, jerking her head all the way to the side.


    Cheeks burning, he dropped her back onto the bodies, a tinge of disgust on his face as he looked down at her, "Get the fuck up and start moving to the next pillar. Or are you so desperate for death that you''re just going to lay there and let them kill you?"


    Before he had finished speaking, he was turning to kick and shout at the other legionaries as he quickly shuffled around their little perimeter. Once everyone was stirring and groaning, he bent down and hoisted the wounded man over his shoulders, never even looking back at Kathren once to see if she was getting to her feet. It was as if her decision to get up or not truly didn''t matter to him anymore.

 B2 Chapter 82

    The realization of Redgenald''s indifference was like a spike driving into her chest, and Kathren felt her eyes burn and itch as she suddenly felt like she had lost something. No, like she had thrown it away¡­ because I''m looking for ways to die instead of trying to live, said a small child-like voice in the back of her mind. Like always.


    The thought ignited the blood flowing through her body into raging anger, and the chains tying her to the pile of bodies shattered as she thrust herself to her feet. All the sounds around Kathren disappeared and were replaced by the rushing sound of flowing water as she abruptly felt lightheaded. Kathren wobbled in place as the world rocked around her, eventually realizing that her arms were thrown wide and she still held her gladius, somehow having avoided cutting herself with her actions.


    Her ordinary grace of movement was gone, but Kathren had plenty of practice with drunkenly staggering about, and if that was what it took to prove Redgenald wrong, so be it. Flopping one leg forward, Kathren followed after the legionaries and the bastard, ignoring the small jabs of pain spearing up her thigh from her left knee.


    Pushing through the pain, Kathren followed after the others, who, if their unsteady movements were any indication, were all in a half daze and not fully aware of the collapsed goblins they were walking over. Not that Kathren was much better because as she took one careful step after another among the carpet of bodies, she found it far more challenging than it should have been.


    Her body just wasn''t cooperating as it usually would, even while drunk. Simply taking one step after another without falling over consumed her mind for the first score of small steps. After that, Kathren could finally process what she was passing.


    Kathren''s first look at the goblins gave her the impression they were all asleep from their long and slow breathing. However, a cold fist gripped her heart when she realized that many of the goblins'' that were "breathing slowly" weren''t so much as taking long breaks between breaths, as much as they weren''t taking them at all. Their blank eyes stared up at nothing, and their chests were still.


    Whatever the wave of energy had been, it was far more devastating to the goblins than their conflict with the legionaries. From her quick look, something like one in three of the goblins were dead. And it was¡­ not important to her survival. Ignoring the dead and unconscious, Kathren staggered forward, chasing after the others to the supposed safety of the collapsed line of legionaries a hundred or so feet away.


    As her boots splattered the trickling streams of blood working their way between the bodies and small stone ridges, Kathren frowned. Something wasn''t right. Besides her pounding head from a backlash and her aching and actively complaining body, it was too hard for her to move. If she had to put it into words, it was like thousands of strands of spider webs were draped across the trench, and every step she took broke them.


    More than that, Kathren felt a numb, tingling sensation all over her body. Not to mention that instead of feeling stronger and more energetic when it looked like life was within her reach again, Kathren felt weaker¡­


    Then again, did she really want to live, or was she simply going through the motions again? If that was true, the only reason this time was so much more difficult to proverbially ¡ª and literally ¡ª get back on her feet was due to Redgenald''s accusation¡­


    Kathren didn''t know the answer to those questions, but she was pretty sure she didn''t want to know them¡­ And what does that say about me?


    Whether it was her imagination or not ¡ª and she was starting to think it was ¡ª every time she pushed through the mental barrier and took a step, the constrictive feeling lessened. Enough so that she could take a moment to really look inward to the barren wastes her psy pool had become after the union breaking and gather up the still scattered energy within her body.


    As she gathered her psy and established a basic mental shield, Kathren immediately felt better. It must have been the aftereffects of backlash and lack of psy that made me like that. Yeah, Redgenald was wrong, and I wasn''t bleeding my thoughts at all.


    A few strides after constructing the mental shield, Kathren''s steps shifted from the stiff tension of experiencing long days of grueling work to that of simply being tired and having to force herself to move. The difference was that with the latter, all you have to do is gather the willpower to keep moving, whereas, with the former, you''re going to hurt something if you even manage to move your body at all.


    Now, all that was left for her to keep moving was dredging up the willpower, and one look around was all she needed to light a fire under her backside. The goblins might be unconscious, or they could simply be faking it after what happened, but there were way too many of them moving their arms and groaning for her liking. It was eerie, and Kathren had no intention of staying in their midst.


    For a brief moment, the thought of running around and slicing as many throats as she could manage passed through her mind, but that seemed like an excellent way to end up surrounded and clawed to death. And that would prove Redgenald right, so she rejected the idea. It''s not like she was in the condition to run around wildly swinging her sword, anyway.


    Eyes landing on the broad shoulders of the man leading them, Kathren forced the annoyance deep within herself to rise to the surface. Who does Redgenald think he is to judge me? Keep my thoughts to myself? Does he think I''m some kind of child who can''t even control her own thoughts? Even in her mind, the words sounded weak, like someone trying to justify their actions.


    If you were trying to convince anyone that you were in the right, you were already in the wrong. Because whether you were in the right or not didn''t matter at that point. You were already at the bottom of a hole, and clawing your way out of it was near impossible¡­ Pushing the pointless thoughts from her mind, Kathren plodded on.


    Not caring what part of the goblins'' bodies she stepped on, Kathren wobbled her way toward the pillar, watching the legionaries before her. Some fell, landing on the bodies they were stepping over only to get up, and others only stumbled before righting themselves again. The only thing they all had in common was that each held onto their shields and swords.


    The bastard was by far the first to make it to the end of the carpet of goblins. As soon as he reached the border, he started lashing out with his feet again, kicking the legionaries as he shouted, "Get up! On your feet! The enemy is here, and you''re lying on your backs?! Where''s your pride as a legionary!"


    Redgenald put down the wounded man on his shoulders, then moved along the line and continued to shout at those he was striding over, being none too gentle about where he stepped. Some started moving and sitting up, but most of the men remained unmoving on the ground as if deep asleep.


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    "Anyone who''s awake," Shouted Redgenald. "Get your brothers on their feet! Do you think our enemies will remain lying down forever?!"


    Kathren saw those in front of her pick up the pace, hurrying over to the unmoving legionaries to lift them up and drag them into a clear area before they set about slapping faces. It would have been comical if it had occurred in another situation, but there was an urgency and desperation to their actions that snuffed out any humor.


    Stopping five feet from the line of legionaries, Kathren''s hand tightly clenched around her sword hilt as she watched the men. The reality was she was a woman with multiple injuries. While she could use psy to drag them around, she needed to have psy to use it. Using her last bits of psy to move a body or getting in their way and standing around was a waste of her time.


    Lifting her right arm up, Kathren chopped down, her sword slicing into the neck of a goblin. For a moment, she looked down on the being, watching it squirm in its sleep as life left its body, and she felt nothing for the savage little creature. Nothing other than a dull satisfaction that she was doing her part in the battle.


    Taking another step and turning ninety degrees, Kathren walked across the trench, alternating her downward arcing blade on both sides of her body. With every twirl, another of the goblin''s throat was opened, leaving a red river in her wake.


    Most goblins reacted to the blow in some form, like curling into themselves as if the action would shelter them. Some looked like they had half woken up, calling out in a mixture of alarm and a cry for help.


    However, the ones who sent a shiver down her spine were the ones who didn''t react at all. From the moment the blow landed, and she looked back seconds later, they never moved. Not so much as a twitch of a finger. It was as if, from the moment they were knocked unconscious, their souls had been ripped from their bodies¡­ Or their minds were torn apart by a reaver, leaving nothing but a husk in the place of a person.


    For what had to be minutes, Kathren walked up and down the line, thinning out the hoard of goblins as best she could. It felt like she was killing the creatures by the score, and her arm was burning from landing so many blows. And yet, Kathren hadn''t moved more than ten feet from the legionaries'' line or crossed the trench more than once on her meandering slaughter.


    As seconds slipped by, Kathren''s eyes were constantly flicking around. With every rapid beat of her heart, she saw more goblins twitching. And when she looked farther down the trench, past where she and the others made their last stand, Kathren even saw goblins starting to get to their feet and stumbling around.


    Their time was rapidly running out, and as much as this moment for respite was a blessing by the Ancestors, it was coming to an end. Head snapping toward Redgenald and body quickly following, Kathren called out as she strode toward him, "Hey Asshole, we gotta get moving! They''re waking up!"


    Most of the men looked up from their tasks to look around at the goblins warily, but she only had eyes for Redgenald as he turned toward her. Kathren knew he was looking past her, but a little shiver ran down her spine as he glanced in her direction. His stern face somehow hardened a little more before he looked over the nearby legionaries and then back toward Borment and the rest of the century.


    If anything, the detachment down at the end of the trench appeared to have fared worse from the weird energy wind than Kathren and the others. Only a few of the legionaries were starting to get up and move around, all prompted by one stocky figure moving and shouting in his distant, hoarse voice. On the bright side, it looked like the goblins were just as bad off.


    "Let''s move, people!" Redgenald called, snagging her attention. "Grab those who aren''t awake, and move your asses down the trench past the next pillar!"


    By this point, a bit more than three-fourths of the legionaries in the rear guard were up and moving around, though some of them looked to be on their tenth mug of the night and well on their way to waking up somewhere they didn''t remember walking to.


    Stepping up to one such man, Kathren flicked the blood from her blade before sheathing it. She wrapped her arm around his waist and slipped her shoulders under his arm for support. He looked at her, his eyes dull and half-looking past her.


    After a couple seconds, a spark of recognition ignited within those eyes, and he grunted something she couldn''t understand before nodding to her in thanks and focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. The lengthy man let part of his weight fall onto Kathren, causing her to let out grunts of pain as she struggled to bear the load on her good leg.


    At the sound of scuffing feet to her side, Kathren looked over, surprised to see Redgenald and his knight, each carrying one of the unconscious men over their shoulders. As he looked at her, emotions played over his face that were too fast for her to read before settling on a neutral professionalism as he asked, "What are your psy reserves like?"


    Taking his lead, Kathren responded in the same tone, "A sixteenth. Enough to form a short tendril or two, but my concentration is shot after¡­" She took a moment and flopped her throbbing arm, grimacing at the movement but feeling the pain was worth it as she gestured around them, taking in everything. "Whatever happened. I won''t be able to hold a casting for long."


    Nodding like he expected the answer, Redgenald replied, "It''s the same for everyone else. Every drop of psy outside our bodies was blown away, and our willpower was eroded. If I didn''t know better, I would say that everyone was already in or on the border of entering a haze. But there were no signs of anyone suffering excessive backlash from entering a fugue state before the fight. I have never heard of anything like this¡ª Ehh, it doesn''t matter." Redgenald sighed, and his shoulders slumped.


    Kathren wanted to reach out. She didn''t know what to say, but she at least wanted to touch his arm and offer her silent support, even if it would hurt moving her bad arm. However, she hesitated, and the moment passed.


    The man pulled from a reserve of will deep inside himself, and his back straightened, lifting the burden on his shoulders along with the expectations of leadership the century had placed upon him. Fumbling with her hand, she grabbed the legionary''s wrist to pull him closer, allowing her to better support him.


    "All that matters is that our psy has almost bottomed out, and at best, we can form a Union," Redgenald said, picking up where he had left off. However, he left unsaid that they wouldn''t be able to hold the union for long as no one needed the grim reality of their situation pointed out. All it took was one look around at the already half-defeated legionnaires stumbling along beside them to be reminded. "Double time it, people!" Redgenald shouted, "I want us on the other side of the pillar in a minute!"


    Having said so, Redgenald strode forward, clearly presenting himself as an example for the others to follow. Many responded to him and surged forward to catch up, but some were too beaten down.


    Slowing down, Kathren got behind those men and shouted at them, "Move your ass or get my foot shoved up it, you sorry pieces of shit! Do you think you''re the only ones that are tired? Where is your pride as a man if a little woman like me can outlast you?"


    Whether it was a voice in the back of their mind telling them to march forward, pushing them to continue a little longer, or having a woman insult their pride, the men shuffled a little faster. Soon enough, Kathren and the some what improved staggering man taking up the rear of the formation marched past Redgenald, who was standing ten feet past the pillar.


    "Form into a line and keep going!" Redgenald shouted at the men while giving Kathren a slight nod of acknowledgment, "Get to the next pillar!" Then, in a lower voice, he said to the man next to him, "Bring it down, Drogaith." A moment later, the chamber air cracked again, and Kathren''s back was pelted with shards of stone.


    Kathren''s heart rumbled in her chest as another support for the roof fell. The cacophony was one thing, and her body responded with a surge of adrenaline at the noise, but she wasn''t worried about that. Most of her focus was behind them as she waited for the goblins to clamber over the rubble in another wave. Her focus was to the point that she hardly even noticed as the man she was helping stepped away to move on his own, as the goblins never appeared.


    In their ragged line, the legionaries marched in preparation to be attacked, but the distance to the last pillar steadily shrunk as if it never happened. Looking over her shoulder, Kathren''s eyes were locked on the pillar a couple dozen feet from her as she began to hope they would make it unhindered, only for the hope to come crashing down as a frantic voice rang out, "They''re coming from the sides!"

 B2 Chapter 83

    "Form a union and shift toward the walls!" Redgenald thundered, his head tilting up as he scanned one side of the trench and then the other. "Cut them down before they can gather and cut us off from the pillar!" As he was shouting, Kathren felt a tendril probing her mind, pushing her to join a mental network.


    Mentally reaching out for the telepathic link, Kathren felt a wave of preemptive weariness wash through her as she prepared herself to endure the strain of the environment for as long as possible. Only to be pleasantly surprised that the suppression was all but gone. She could sense her bewilderment mirrored in Redgenald and the others joining the network, but no one was wasting time questioning the boon.


    With the mental network quickly expanding to envelop all the conscious legionaries composing their rear guard, the stubborn resignation to go down fighting turned into hope. They may be bloody and half beaten to death, and their psy was nearly exhausted, and they were outnumbered, and any number of other things, but they had the union. And that glimmer of hope was all they needed.


    At the speed of thought, Redgenald processed everyone''s view of the situation and then gave orders to the men. The outer edges of the human shield wall turned and directly engaged the goblins that were all but falling on them from the top of the trench walls.


    The legionaries swung their short swords and shields before the goblins could properly reach their feet and brace themselves for an attack. Some of the goblins were able to dodge or block the blows, and a couple even managed to survive the follow-up strikes made by legionaries moving to support their brothers, but it didn''t matter. Because as suddenly as the legionaries were attacking the first goblins who fell into the trench, they were stepping back and repositioning.


    At the same time that the formation edges were engaging the goblins, the center of the legionaries'' line across the trench broke in half and rolled toward the trench walls. Like a piece of parchment falling to the ground, those toward the outer edges moved down the trench toward the pillar, extending the shield wall one person at a time as those behind followed in a line.


    Goblins continuously fell from the trench walls like drops of rain, and as they began to pile up in one spot, they started shifting further up the trench. Disorganized and scattered as the goblins were as they clambered over the terraced levels above, their attempt to outflank the humans was disorganized and half-hearted at best. Because of the quick action of the legionaries, more often than not, the goblins were no more than a quick lunge away from the humans when they landed in front of the extended shield wall. An opportunity the legionaries never failed to take.


    By the time half of the now two lines of legionnaires could position themselves opposing the threat flooding down the walls, the first to engage the goblins were pulling back and moving to link up with what was the center portion of their line a few seconds ago. The result was that the two groups on the left and right walls, each comprised of seventeen legionaries, formed into oblong circles revolving up the trench. And then there was the one man hobbling down the center of the trench, desperately trying to distance himself from the fight as he propelled himself forward with his makeshift crutch and good leg.


    Yet, despite the sudden surge of morale and coordination, there was a price for the legionaries'' actions. As the telepathic network expanded to form a web of minds, even those legionaries who were unconscious were probed.


    As anyone who has been asleep and had a tendril reach out for them could tell you, it was a far from pleasant experience. Depending on how insistent you were ¡ª and Redgenald was skating on the border of unleashing a mental attack on the men ¡ª it was somewhere between pounding and shouting at your front door in the middle of the night to bringing your house down around you in the middle of the night¡­ except the medium was your skull, not wood and stone. If there was anyone who could sleep through it while being outside of a coma, Kathren had yet to meet or hear about them, and she still hadn''t.


    When the tendril probed the minds of the "sleeping" legionnaires, there was nothing. Usually, when you touch another''s mind with a tendril, most people would describe it as encountering it as a flame. A tight ball of emotions, thoughts, and images packed together in such a way as to make everyone wholly unique. Even animals, while closer to a candle than torches or campfires, had minds that shone.


    The four legionaries were empty. There was nothing in them. Where a mind should have been, there was just a blank slate, even as the bodies continued to breathe.


    It didn''t take Redgenald''s shock at encountering a seared mind for everyone to understand what had happened. In that instant, they all knew their friends and comrades had left this world behind.


    Painful as it might have been, those lugging the living corpses along dropped them as they moved into the rotating formation. Whether or not the goblins killed them didn''t matter at this point; there was nothing to save. But everyone ¡ª even Redgenald ¡ª felt a slight twinge of disdain at themselves for leaving the six bodies behind, rational as the action was.


    Not that the feelings could linger in their minds for long, as battle claimed their focus. The goblins would not lessen their assault for the legionaries to rationalize an act that might be morally questionable. At the end of the day, action was needed to save each other, and it left no room for second-guessing themselves.


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    Through either a lack of discipline or a misplaced sense of confidence, the goblins'' leadership didn''t wait to launch their attack before the creatures had been gathered, organized, or positioned to cut off all hope of retreat. This led to a scramble as the goblins rushed to cut them off, and the legionaries desperately struggled to advance their shifting battle line down the trench ten or so feet from the wall''s base.


    Kathren was no exception to taking a position in the formation, and even the still somewhat disoriented legionaries stumbling along regained most of their coordination when connected to the union and moved into the stream to fight. One after another, Kathren watched those in front of her in line hook to the side and engage in combat.


    The anticipation of the coming fight caused her heart to flutter as the tension filled her. The closer she got, the wider her lips stretched, and her hands even began to shake. The symptoms got worse all the way up until she was next in line, where her heart and body stilled, ready for action.


    Jumping to the side and lunging forward, Kathren intercepted a goblin in mid-flight as it attempted to knock down the latest legionary to join the battle. Her sword was nearly wrenched from her hand as the body twisted, and she felt a spike of pain down her leg, but thanks to the creature''s small size, she was able to keep hold of her blade and avoid falling. If it had been a man ¡ª or Cursed Ancestors forbid a beastkin ¡ª she would have been left weaponless as she cradled her leg in agonizing pain.


    "Argh!" Kathren screamed, letting out all of her frustration into the torrent of sound around her. She wrenched her sword free of the skewered goblin, only to thrust her steel at the new creature that just plopped into the trench before her as she screamed, "Die, you little shit!"


    By the time she had pulled back her sword from the chest of the new goblin ¡ª time that was provided by the legionary to her left as he had blocked an attack from a third goblin aimed at her ¡ª and she fainted a couple attacks at a fourth, it was time for her to move again. Kathren''s arm swung up and to her right, slashing through the spot where a legionary was standing a moment before. Instead of hitting air, the tip of her blade cut a goblin across the nose and right eye as it was charging up the trench after the retreating humans.


    With a screech, the goblin reared back, its hands darting up to its eyes as if it was trying to catch the clear liquid mixed with dark blood now dripping down its face. Wholly consumed with its own suffering ¡ª something Kathren understood though did make her look down upon the creature ¡ª the goblin stopped in place, causing a pile-up as those behind plowed into him.


    Twisting her body and skipping backward, Kathren ensured she kept track of everything she could see up the trench. Between what was now the mound of the second pillar and the still-standing third, tens of goblins were dropping to the ground every second before regaining their balance and darting after the humans.


    Feet and hands slapped against the ground as they charged forward, letting out screeches filled with bloodlust. On the bright side, the goblins couldn''t break into a sprint at first, as they were hampered by their own corpses. The obstacles bought precious seconds, not that it was preventing them from quickly gaining ground on the legionaries, who had to split their focus between moving and fighting.


    It was only the staggered way the creatures approached and how they, more often than not, hindered each other rather than work together that allowed the legionaries to maintain their formation and keep moving. Add in a carefully placed slash or lunge at a goblin from the legionaries, and an entire wave of the goblins would fall over each other as one jumped into the path of the others as it dodged.


    The thing was, everything they were doing was only buying them time. While they inflicted many wounds, there were few outright kills, and the numbers of the goblins kept growing, building up the pressure. It was like they were fighting against a river. It didn''t matter how many times you pushed it back. There would always be more, and it would only grow in strength.


    As the wheels of legionaries rolled down the corridor, the mass of goblins pressing from behind only grew, and the legionaries fighting at the back had to deal with more foes. Around and around they went, and with every rotation, Kathren found herself having to fight more on the inside section of the wheel as the goblins churred around the formation.


    Regardless of how they were pressed, the legionaries never broke. A few of their number were cut down, but the relentless march continued. Even when their progress slowed to a crawl, they had to fight up over half of their inside line before being able to disengage and turn to claim the next three feet of the passage along the trench wall.


    Unfortunately for the goblins, by that point, any more forward progress didn''t matter, as they had already arrived. Not only had they reached the pillar, but they had also moved all but the last quarter of their formation on both sides past it.


    His mental voice filled with determination, Redgenald said, "Hook around the inner goblins and move toward the pillar. We''re going to bring it down. For the Republic!"


    "For the 15th!" The legionaries responded with a battle cry of their own, none of them so much as hesitating as Redgenald declared how they would die.


    At the command, instead of continuing to flow up the trench, the small section of the wheel not engaged in combat broke in half, where the top section moved to act as a screening force against the goblins arcing around them from the trench wall, and the others placed themselves against the goblins pressing from the rear. Slow but steady, the squished oval of legionaries steadily stepped back until the line forced out a man, allowing him to move and extend their line toward the pillar.


    Or at least, that was the intention. Kathren was one of the first to step into the hollow within their formation, so as she sprinted down the two lines of shifting and bucking men, she was one of the first to see the shift in the battle.


    The first event and a pleasant surprise was that a square of legionaries composing at least an equal number to the rear guard was moving from the switchbacks at a quick march, and they would be here in a matter of seconds. It would make their precarious position far more stable, and they might even be able to regain their equilibrium instead of scrambling to collapse the column.


    Then, that hope was dashed as she turned to face the pillar. She saw the tens of unstable posts holding up the pillar ripple, and the stone bled together into a single mass. What made it even worse was that the ground around the pillar split open, and ranks of goblins in chainmail and steel helms marched out, the tips of their spears leading the way.

 B2 Chapter 84

    Joxin heaved in a breath, his legs burning as he tried to stand motionless for a moment to gather strength but could not prevent the exhausted quivering. Heaving out a sigh of effort, he pushed himself up the next step without lifting his head from where it hung.


    His world consisted of the step behind him, which was singing a siren song, trying to convince him to collapse back onto it, the step ahead that was very close to becoming an insurmountable goal. And then there was the step he was on, which, no matter how much he focused his willpower on it, refused to move on its own like a platform or expand for him to lie down and take a break on.


    "Cursed Ancestors, I hate stairs." Joxin gasped. Then his heart jumped into his throat, and he froze in place, a primal fear taking hold of him. The entire structure he was on was quaking as a distant rumble sounded overhead. Long seconds passed, and Joxin didn''t dare to move until the tension was finally broken by a voice calling out to him.


    "The Cursed Ancestors want you to stop your bitching, and start climbing," Bellous called back, not sounding alarmed or tired in the slightest¡­ and he was the one practically carrying Sathera with what had to be minimal support from Jim. I doubt he even stopped for the shaking¡­ maybe he''ll get winded and take a break if he has to carry both of them.


    The mental image of Bellous huffing and puffing as he balanced Jim and Sathera on each shoulder flashed through his mind with vindictive glee. Stifling his amusement, Joxin hesitantly stepped forward again, half expecting the stone to collapse from under his foot. When he wasn''t resting as he plummeted to his death the next moment, Joxin sighed as he resigned himself to his place in life and returned to plodding along, carefully ignoring everything he couldn''t control.


    At this point in the climb, they had to be somewhere over two hundred feet straight up on the circular stairwell¡­ Or at least it felt like it. From Joxin''s vantage of the dark cavern, he really couldn''t tell how high he was with the spotty illumination, but Joxin believed that at any moment, he should be rounding the bend and seeing the end of this nightmare.


    The thing was, he''d been thinking that for what had to be the last ten minutes, and he was starting to have thoughts that he really had died. What better personal hell could the old gods place on Joxin for not believing in them than convincing him he had to climb an endless flight of stairs.


    I haven''t seen Bellous and Jim in a while¡­ They always seem to be just out of sight. Shaking his head as if he could fling the thoughts out of his mind like he was shaking out water from his hair, Joxin ended his little break and grunted in effort, taking the next step. And the one after and after and after and then¡­ stopped, taking another little break. Why was I ever excited to see this monstrosity¡­ Joxin thought, cursing himself as he huffed for air.


    He felt an urgency to keep pushing in the back of his mind, but his body could only perform so well while being sustained by the shitty green mushrooms and water. While it hadn''t happened yet, soon enough, the goblins below them would be marching up the stairs after them. It was only luck that the first twenty or so feet of their staircase collapsed after the destruction of whatever Sathera shattered in the jade cavern.


    Even as Joxin covered their rear while Jim and Bellous dragged Sathera up the stairs, the stone under his feet was falling away. The goblins hadn''t even gotten up after the twisted energy washed over them in a strong wave, knocking everyone to the ground. Pretty much all the goblins he could see were flopping around where they fell, having a seizure.


    It might be weird, but Joxin hated that moment as much as he treasured it. Joxin would rather experience the resigned acceptance of watching the goblins marching up and surrounding them while Sathera ¡ª and then Jim when the energy all but vanished, and she still hadn''t come out ¡ª rushed into the jade corridor a hundred times than run through that courtyard filled with collapsed enemies a single time again. The overwhelming anxiety of dancing through the flailing goblins while desperately searching for the base of the stairs took years off his life.


    It was one thing to accept an inevitable death was moments away and stand firm against it, and a whole other thing to stand firm against death while having the option to retreat in the back of your mind. The chance to live will shatter the stoic composure of most when death is the alternative.


    And then there was the pain and suffering of reality. Any relief he felt at having an opportunity to escape quickly vanished after the first couple dozen steps they rushed up as they outran the destruction. Once the excitement was over and they were outside of bow range, Joxin realized he still had a whole staircase to climb. Thus began their stomping trial up the sweat-streaked stone.


    He had no idea how long they had been climbing up this too-open, absurdly tall, circling stairwell with only a waist-high railing, but it felt like hours had passed. Tilting his head, Joxin looked up, not seeing Bellous, but knowing he had said something, he gasped, "What?"


    "The gap between the railing and the next ring closes up here," Bellous rumbled, "We shouldn''t have much longer to go."


    "Haa~," Joxin sighed in relief as he let his legs jitter him to a seated position, "Take a five-minute break. We don''t know what''s up there, but we''ll probably have to run or fight." Joxin could hear Bellous''s silent disagreement, forcing him to ask, "What?"


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    "We hear fighting," Jim said from where he was next to Bellous.


    "Fuck," Joxin said, heaving himself up to his feet, steadying himself against the short railing before sucking in a long breath and turning to march up the stairs. Why was their fighting up there? Joxin had no idea, and he didn''t really care.


    However, anyone fighting against the monsters filling this place was bound to be more friendly than the goblins. Even some kind of large underground worm boring its way through the earth would be better than more goblins because there was a decent chance it would ignore them, and that was the least likely idea running through Joxin''s head.


    Stomping up the stairs, Joxin went up two rotations before he saw the others. In the dim green light of the glowing mushrooms placed in little alcoves on the center portion of the stairwell, Jim looked like a week-old kill that some animal left for later but never returned to eat. On the bright side, at least there was some color to the man. As a step above Jim was Sathera, and she was so pale that Joxin would say she was a corpse if her chest wasn''t moving.


    Finally, turning to the last member of their group, Jim was surprised. Despite how his voice sounded like a rumbling mountain, unwavering and relentless regardless of everything that had happened to them, his body was soaked with sweat, and he looked like he was at his breaking point.


    It would not be a breaking point where Bellous would give up. No, Joxin couldn''t imagine that. It would be the braking point where his body gave out, and he physically couldn''t take another step.


    Stopping at Jim''s feet, Joxin tilted his head and listened, immediately hearing the faint sound of clashing metal and a scream. Locking eyes with Bellous, Joxin said, "Stay with them, I''ll go take a look."


    As Joxin stepped between the limbs and bodies of those sprawled out on the steps, Bellous rumbled, "You want the torch? And what if you don''t come back?"


    "No, I won''t need it, you might. And if I don''t come back in ten minutes¡­ well, I guess go up the stairs cautiously¡­ or do what you think is best," Joxin spoke without looking at the man, his fists clenching at his side. Bellous didn''t respond, but the heavy pressure that filled the stairwell told Joxin that Bellous understood what he wasn''t saying.


    "If you''re gonna kill me," Jim cut in, blowing the tension away like a gust of wind removing dust hanging in the air, "then throw me over the side of this railing. Make the bastards clean me up."


    A teasing smile playing on his lips, Joxin said over his shoulder before he rounded the corner, "Go ahead and throw him over the side. Maybe the fall will beat the idea of remembering his bracers into his skull."


    "Har har," Jim called back dryly. "If you weren''t so much of a coward, you''d come back here and say those words to my face, then we''ll see who''s still laughing."


    "What? Are you going to force me to shut up by shoving your forearms into my mouth until I choke to death? Or maybe you want me to take another chunk out of your arm to make it even?"


    Joxin could hear Bellous chuckling before Jim replied before he was out of easy speaking range, ¡°¡­Low blow, Joxin. Low blow." Suppressing the childish comeback of how Jim would know the low blows best down there¡­ or maybe something about he was just trying to get to the meat of the issue, Joxin put his game face on.


    His legs were still screaming at him, but with a new purpose ¡ª the burning was something Joxin could ignore. The reason was simple, instead of wallowing in the pain and trying to outrun a nebulous threat, he had a tangible goal before him.


    It was a slight difference in his mindset, but it made the last few flights of stairs all the more bearable as he doggedly climbed. Like a cat slinking along the wall of a house, Joxin moved through the floor of the latest cavern, and he found himself stepping out into a stone chamber.


    Bare bones were the best way to describe the space, as all that was inside it was a small retaining wall with an opening for the flight of stairs placed in the center of the room. Around the stairwell, there was a good ten feet to the walls of the room, and as he poked his head up and looked around, Joxin saw a sizable archway that five men could walk through abreast to his left.


    While he may not have spotted any goblins, that didn''t make him any more relaxed. In fact, it only put him more on edge. With every step he took, the sounds of battle only grew, and at this point, Joxin wouldn''t be surprised if he stepped around the doorway and came face to face with the struggle. Or that some goblin spotted him the moment he left the room.


    Creeping forward, Joxin moved to the entrance, then poked his head around the corner, seeing¡­ a patch of mostly flat stone faintly lit by the same green mushrooms growing everywhere else. He wasn''t sure what he was expecting, but¡­ No, rather than expecting, he longed to see something more than another cavern. Even a pitch-black room would be a welcome surprise at this point.


    Moving a little farther out from the archway, Joxin turned his head to the left, following the sounds of battle. All that was visible from his position was a single tall figure standing at what looked like a cliff''s ledge, which wasn''t exactly helpful. Turning the other way, Joxin saw haphazard rows of half-collapsed tents filling the back of the cave and what looked like a lumpy and uneven rear wall.


    Trying to keep one eye on the figure standing over the conflict, Joxin studied the tents, ensuring that no one was about to pop out of them and surprise him. Minutes passed, and once he was confident it was empty, Joxin stalked forward, quickly darting across the chamber until he reached the far wall.


    Freezing in the deeper shadows, Joxin''s tense body gradually relaxed, his mind finally letting go of the image of someone calling for him to halt. After a few deep breaths to focus, Joxin started moving along the wall until he reached the lip of the chamber and the couple hundred-foot drop off.


    Joxin''s eyes pricked with heat, and his heart lurched as he looked down¡­ seeing legionaries fighting far below him. He had never been so grateful to see another human before, except the moment was marred by the fact they were losing. Their lines were broken in the trench down below, and a melee was taking place as hundreds of scattered goblins rushed forward, trying to overwhelm a few score of legionaries.


    Looking closer to the wall, Joxin noticed more legionaries fighting on the path leading up to this cutout, desperately fighting to carve through or hold back the hundreds of goblins blocking their way. He couldn''t say which one it was, mainly because neither side was making much progress.


    Eyes locking on the tall figure standing at the top of the curving path, Joxins hand fell to the hilt of his sword as he looked at what had to be a dark elf. Turning to look at the backlines of the mass of goblins below them, Joxin would bet his life the elf was the one commanding them¡­ What was one more suicide mission?

 B2 Chapter 85

    Kathren planted her hip into the backside of a goblin, knocking him forward and into the range of the legionary he was facing off against. Anticipating her action, the human cut the goblin down and then turned and swung the front of his shield at a goblin to his right, knocking the creature to the side and into another goblin.


    Not that Kathren saw the legionary''s actions, as she had already lurched past him. The only reason she even knew of what he did was the constant stream of information flowing into her mind from the union. And during the same moments the legionary acted, she slid the top of her gladius into the calf of a second goblin and tripped a third.


    Each of her actions, small as they were, allowed the legionaries fighting the opportunity to finish off a foe. Occasionally, Kathren might land a mortal blow, but generally, she was trying to go unnoticed, as that was the whole purpose of a rover.


    In the history of the Republic, fighting outside of a solid shield wall was a relatively new occurrence. Well, fighting outside a shield wall and having the legion live to tell the tale was new, as there were countless incidents in the past where beastkins had caught a legion unprepared or simply broke their lines and poured into the gap, fragmenting the fighting into a collection of individuals.


    Against even an average-sized horde of beastkin, the event of a broken line would always lead to eradication. It was only when fighting against the Imperium, and now the goblins, that a melee was a viable option. A good¡ª no, a great commander was essential to ensure a melee was decided by factors other than the overall numbers, gear, morale, psy, and exhaustion levels of the fighters.


    It took a special mind years of training until they could place legionaries in real-time in a pattern that allowed the union to have a view of every enemy in the area while they fought. Not that their burden ended there, as even when legionaries were initially positioned correctly, the leader still had to shift individuals constantly to avoid momentary gaps. Even a gap in the vision for a single second could result in legionaries being cut down, which would cause a cascading effect as more enemies slip through new blind spots to land lethal blows.


    As much as a shield wall is an example of a perfectly coordinated machine that can be seen as a single object, a melee is a chaotic dance of individuals working together. Taken alone, no one event mattered, but as a whole, it became a meat grinder to the opponents.


    Once everyone was accounted for, the point wasn''t to clash against each other head-on but to create openings. To divert the opponents'' attention with a frontal assault, allowing someone to slip through the battle, step around a blocking body, and execute what should only be a minor attack. The one delivering the blow hardly ever fully committed to it, but it was always enough to tilt the fight in favor of the legionary.


    Given Kathren''s depletion of psy, her left arm sending a bolt of pain through her chest when she tried lifting it, her lack of a shield, and her knee, Redgenald ordered her to be one of the rovers¡­ Which was probably the right call. At least it was easier than standing still against a goblin''s frontal attack, but running around was becoming more challenging by the second as the bodies mounted, and it wasn''t just because they were obstacles.


    The blood seeping between the bodies made every step precarious. You could never know if you were stepping into a hole or onto level ground, like walking around a street and seeing a murky puddle you couldn''t see the bottom of. It also made everything slippery, which was quite a problem when Kathren was supposed to be moving around silently and quickly.


    Another problem ¡ª and a far more serious one in Kathren''s unasked opinion ¡ª was the total collapse of Redgenald''s plan to bring down the pillar, but who was Kathren to make that judgment? You know, besides being one of the people who will have to pay with her life as it all slowly went to shit¡­ Yeah, other than that, her opinion was worthless.


    An eternity ago, which could also be viewed as a few minutes when you were outside of combat, the goblins popped up from the ground around the pillar and reshaped the stone. If they could get to the pillar, there was at least a chance that the collective legionaries could gather and shape enough psy to break the stone, but that was made all but impossible by the wall of spears bristling around the base.


    After a moment of hesitation, where Redgenald processed the information, he quickly changed his plan. Not even attempting to assault the armored bigger goblins while being harassed by what amounted to light skirmishers ¡ª which would have gone horribly wrong ¡ª he decided to pull back toward the switchbacks in a weird way.


    Redgeanld threw out a tendril to the reinforcements and split them into three groups that moved to each side of the trench and one down the center. The legionaries slammed into the goblins, pushing them back and taking some pressure off Kathren and the others. It was enough for them to pull back and reform into the strongest shield wall of their fight so far.


    The opposing forces watched each other for a moment, coming to a silent agreement not to fight as nobody moved. Then Redgenald ordered them to charge the goblins, a command the legionaries happily accepted as they shouted their challenge, swords raised, and an instant later, the goblin rushed forward to meet them.


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    Almost before the two lines had impacted, Redgenald was having them retreat. He even had the legion battle line break into smaller groups, letting the goblins through. From there, the legionaries steadily fell back, the groups continuously breaking apart until they arrived at the wild melee Kathren found herself in.


    Though it was slow, the legionaries constantly took steps backward, making it appear like they were being pushed back. Or at least the goblins seemed to think so, as they kept pressing forward despite their losses.


    A goblin charged at Kathren, but she just gave it a mocking smile as she turned and stepped to the side. From the corner of her eye, she saw a sword stab out in front of him and the goblin clothesline itself on the blade, resulting in an all but severed neck.


    Head jerking to the right, Kathren pushed her body into a lunge, but it was already too late. A Goblin had leaped onto a legionary''s shield and clawed out the side of the man''s neck. A moment later, Kathren''s blade pierced the goblin''s chest as it rode the human to the ground, but it was a hollow victory.


    Before the man could bleed out, dozens of legionaries slightly shifted, compensating the lines of sight to cover the missing set of eyes. At the same time, a few legionaries gained minor wounds, but they were able to stabilize without further losses, which was a blessing. From the start of the melee, it marked the first time they hadn''t suffered a second death after the initial loss, the four other times it had occurred.


    Leaving the man where he lay, Kathren stepped over the bodies, not looking down. However, it didn''t make leaving the dying man any easier, as she could not stop the stream of images playing through the back of her mind. Even if it was from the perspective of the ground, Kathren instantly recognized her grimy, blood-stained figure striding away as the world slowly fell into utter darkness.


    "Keep fighting!" Redgenald called, pulling Kathren''s thoughts away from the last moments of the dead man, "Do not relent! Do not falter! We just have to last a few¡ª


    "There is enough," Drogaith''s mental voice said, cutting into Redgenald''s motivational words.


    "Understood. All troops, fall back to the switchbacks! Drogaith, link up with Borment and give him some support before you act!" Ordered Redgenald.


    Kathren felt a twinge of irritation that Redgenald wasn''t explaining the plan, and then the emotion was forgotten as she backstabbed a goblin in the kidney before stepping forward and drawing out her gladius. As she pulled her sword out of the flesh, Kathren swung out her arm to slam her hilt into the temple of another goblin before rushing to stall a third before he could attack a legionary''s back. Maybe he has some small reason not to explain the full extent of his plan¡­ Kathren reluctantly thought. At least he is exuding confidence.


    One hack, one step, one body at a time, the legionaries'' scattered formation came together. They stomped bodies into mush and waited through ankle-deep pooled blood in places while the screeches and howls of their enemies echoed off the walls of the chamber.


    Hundreds lay dead through the trench, and it had gotten to the point that every person in the chamber could taste blood in the air and smell the feces of severed intestines and emptied bowels. And it only drove them to fight harder to avoid the same fate.


    No one stopped. No one even slowed as they trampled the bodies of their friends and enemies alike. All that the corpses were to those in the struggle were obstacles to maneuver around and over or traps to hinder an enemy¡­ Or to fall into yourself.


    Letting out a scream more from rage than anything else, Kathren fell backward, her leg finally giving out as she put her whole weight on it after she tripped attempting to dodge to the side. The half-dead goblin attacking her shrieked as it skittered forward in triumph, swiping at her feet. Not content with that, the creature climbed up her legs until it was able to jab the long claws on its right hand into her gut, just below the bottom edge of her boiled leather chest piece.


    Its fingers squirmed into her lower abdomen like worms wiggling through the dirt, causing her scream of rage to turn into one of pain. Lifting her blade, Kathren smashed her pommel into the face of the creature several times in quick succession until it was nothing but mush while screaming, "Arrgh! You horse fucking inbred cunt! Get the fuck off me!"


    When the body stopped twitching, Kathren heaved it to the side and grunted her way to her feet, giving a few swipes of her hand to brush off the blood on her leather chest piece but only succeeding in smearing it around. Heaving in the foul air, she took a moment to wipe her face and look around.


    Even as she stood in place, the back of her good hand staunching the wound in her stomach, the legionaries filed into place around her as they formed a hollow square with her and Redgenald, along with a few of the more severely wounded legionaries, in its center. It was the ones who were having trouble walking due to blood loss or couldn''t lift their blade or shield due to whatever wound inflicted on them.


    Which Kathren was not one of yet. Stepping forward, Kathren almost fell down along with her footfall as Redgenald''s voice thundered in her head, "Stand down, scout! Putting aside your injuries ¡ª which should disqualify you ¡ª you lack the psy reserves to stand next to men. Unless the line is breached, you are in reserve."


    Kathren wanted to argue with him and almost did, as her mind was clouded from exhaustion, but she stopped herself before voicing the words. There was a general consensus in the mental network that she would be more of a hindrance than a benefit in the battle line at the moment, and as bitter of a pill as it was to swallow, she would not let her pride hurt others.


    Reeling in her battle lust, Kathren moved to support one of the wounded men and watched the legionaries hack their way forward. It wasn''t long before the goblins standing between them and the switchbacks vanished, and the humans could easily walk up to the blood waterfall.


    Standing at the base of the switchbacks, Kathren looked up as she felt their union connect with Borment and his men. Seconds crawled by as she processed the flood of information, though it could have been longer as her mind wasn''t exactly operating at its best.


    Regardless, before she could get a grasp on the new situation, everything changed. A collective screech of horror filled the air, and a flair of vindictive zeal filled the mental network as every legionary in Borment''s contingent charged upward.


    Above the flurry of impressions and emotions, Redgeanld''s mental voice rang out, "Drogaith!"


    ¡°¡­It''s done, Reaper." Replied the knight''s malicious voice after a beat. Kathren looked around in confusion as nothing happened, and then she noticed the ground rippling.

 B2 Chapter 86

    "Are you sure we should leave her here?" Bellous rumbled, making his objection to leaving Sathera behind abundantly clear for the fourth time since Joxin returned to them, and they climbed the last section of stairs.


    "We don''t have a choice," Joxin replied before he began absentmindedly repeating the same arguments he had been covering over the last few minutes, though most of his attention was already on what would come next as he ensured the torch was out and secured on his waist. "We can''t protect her while fighting. If we don''t fight, we will probably die. The odds are no one will notice her."


    "To leave our com¡ª


    "Enough, Bellous," Joxin said, turning to face the man. "I don''t like this any more than you do, but it''s necessary. More than that, she would tell us to do it."


    Bellous'' Jaw clenched, and his lips twitched as he struggled to control and maintain his stoic mask. Finally, he sighed, and the fight seemed to go out of him as he nodded. "It''s just¡­ after coming this far¡­ We are so close."


    "I know. However, in the end, we are legionaries. Making hard sacrifices is our job." Joxin said, then moved to the opening of the stairwell chamber. Poking his head around the corner, he checked one last time that the area was clear before he signaled the others to move forward as he slipped around the stone arch.


    Instead of shooting across the chamber to the wall of the large alcove they were in like he did before, Joxin moved along the wall of the stone structure toward the front of the cubby until he reached the building''s corner and stopped. A few moments later, Bellous arrived next to him and gently laid out Sathera''s limp body next to the wall. As she was placed on the cold stone, she murmured something unintelligible in her sleep, and a grimace of pain appeared on her face.


    Bellous tried to position her to be comfortable, but there was only so much he could do. After he crossed her hands over her stomach, he grunted in resignation and spun about to join Joxin and Jim where they lay together.


    Less than a hundred yards away was the edge of the hollow, and standing in the center of it was a lone figure, his outline illuminated by the green light of nearby mushrooms. While none of the battle raging below could be seen, you would have to actively try not to hear the shouts, screams, and clanging of steel for it to go unnoticed.


    Gathering what was left of his psy, which was a bit more than a third, Joxin formed two tendrils and extended them to Jim and Bellous. Joxin felt a moment of surprise as he didn''t feel the corrosive nature of the twisted energy he was expecting, but then again, if Sathera destroyed the source of the energy like they thought, then why did he climb up the stairs without a tendril!? Putting aside the pointless thoughts, Joxin performed what amounted to a handshake, outlining their overall status.


    Joxin learned that Jim and Bellous had even less psy than him, but that was fine. All three of them were tired, and their bodies ached, but they could swing their swords just fine. Enough to kill someone, at least.


    And that was pretty much the best they could hope for, as even if they all had full psy reserves, it wasn''t like any of them was a lord or knight who could call on the bedrock of the world to do their bidding. No, all they needed was enough psy to form a union, so having the psy to create some tendrils¡­ well, things were looking up.


    "Simple plan, boys," Joxin sent into the network. "We stalk up as close as possible, then attack that dark elf. I would bet my life they are the ones commanding the goblins, and their death should throw their ranks into disarray. I could be wrong, but I doubt it. Whether I''m right or not, though, after we take down the elf, we move to attack the rear of the goblins and kill them all."


    ¡°¡­Pretty ambitious plan there," Jim commented after a moment.


    "You got a better one? Maybe you wanna sneak off to a corner and hope we go unnoticed?"


    "No, no, no. Not at all¡­ Jox." Jim sent, his mind and the message sounding far too natural for him not to be up to something stupid. Not that Joxin was expecting anything else, given that Jim brought up Joxin''s non-existent nickname, but it made him all the more certain. "I''m just saying that your plan has the potential to be really dangerous."


    "Yes," Joxin stated.


    "And that everything has to work out perfectly, or we could all be injured or killed."


    "Yes."


    "So could you say you are taking shortcuts while hoping for the best o¡ª


    "This situation is in no way similar to you forgetting your bracers, and you are still an idiot for it." Bellous cut Jim off, sending a mental roll of his eyes.


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    "What?" Jim asked, his thoughts filled with utterly fake indignation, "How could you say that? But since you brought it up, there has to be something there, right?"


    "No," Bellous declared in a commanding tone, telling everyone it was the final word on the topic.


    Cutting off Joxin''s whining before it could begin, Joxin said, "Jim, give it up and shut it¡ª


    "Never! I will achieve glorious victory, or I will die on this hill! "


    Ignoring that, Joxin continued like he never stopped, "Jim, swing to the right, Bellous, you have the left, and I''ll go down the center. Stay low and get moving."


    Pushing himself up with his arms, Joxin stayed in a low crouch as he slowly moved forward. For every one of his steps, Bellous and Jim took two, but that was necessary as they needed to cover more distance if they were going to come in from the flanks.


    The battle below raged on, and images of legionaries dying with every scream played through Joxins mind. It wasn''t true. He knew that. Most of the screams were too sharp and high for them to be human, but not all of them. Hiding within the quilt of battle were the shouts of humans, and they weren''t shouting without reason.


    However, that didn''t matter and was actually harmful, as it was just a distraction. As hard as it might be to accept, Joxin and the others were doing all they could. Legionaries would die by the time they could cover the distance from the building to the figure. That was a fact.


    Attempting to cover the distance faster could save lives. It could also cause them to be noticed and provoke a response, making it impossible for them to achieve anything of note. The benefit versus cost just wasn''t worth the risk. So, Joxin and the others slowly moved forward, the sounds of battle concealing their advance.


    Step after steady step, minutes crept by until they were twenty feet from the figure. "Okay," Joxin sent, "Rush him ri¡ª


    "Did you think I didn''t notice you?" Said a deep, mocking voice over the alcove. "Your minds scream into the darkness. Your casting thrums across the surroundings, singing your presence, and you think one with ears could miss it? Foolish insects, you are truly worthy of your fate."


    Joxin shivered, his body freezing in place. He knew he should be running, either moving to fight or trying to escape, yet he couldn''t. Joxin couldn''t even twitch his finger, and with every beat of his heart, he was finding it difficult to muster up the energy to even remember why he was worried. It would be like lifting a mountain with your arms; it wasn''t possible, so why even bother? Why be weighed down with inconsequential concerns? No matter how hard you try, you will fail. It''s inevitable, and fighting against the inevitable is a waste of time.


    The thoughts flowing through his mind felt weird at first, but now¡­ they were making a lot of sense. Why should he try? Already, the last section of his life was an epic the likes of which few could overcome. Making it as far as he did was something to take pride in.


    "Now, be good little ins¡ª urrgh~!" His train of thought jumped into a wet gurgle, and Joxin blinked, clearing his suddenly blurry vision.


    Where there was a single shadowy form, a second had appeared to the side of the first. Which was something of a surprise to take in but not the biggest one of the moment. What sent a shiver of fear down Joxin''s spine was that he found himself just outside his arm''s reach from the figures, which was far more alarming than another person appearing out of nowhere.


    Before he could so much as move, the new figure swept its hands wide, sending the head of the dark elf flying to the side. A shriek of fear and despair filled the air a moment after the body crumpled to the ground, but Joxin paid little attention to it as the full might of his disoriented mind was focused on the silver gleam of the blade pressed against his throat.


    "What do we have here, hmm?" Rasped the figure. "Traitors? Colluders with the dark elves? In that case, no one would object to your deaths."


    "No!" Snapped Joxin, his mind lurching into motion, and words spilled out of his mouth, "We''re not traitors! We''re scouts of the 15th that ended up in these tunnels and couldn''t find a way out. We have bee¡ª


    Joxin was cut off as the man doubled over, clutching his gut, "Haha~! The look on your face! Do you really think I would take the time to talk to you if I didn''t already know? I was watching you sneak up, waiting for you to make him distracted. Ahh, that was a good laugh."


    Then, turning on his heel, the man walked up to the dead elf, and he froze in place. Hesitantly trading looks with Jim and Bellous, though he could not speak to them mentally as their network was broken, Joxin walked forward until he was standing next to the wiry man in time to hear the man giggle in delight, "Let the blood flow!"


    Joxin didn''t know what the man was talking about at first, but then, at the base of the switchback, a bulge that looked like a blister rapidly formed. In a matter of seconds, it grew until the apex of the bulb was taller than the sides of the trench before it rapidly deflated.


    His eye only caught a flash of movement, and then bodies were hanging in the air in a straight line up the trench. Following the path, Joxin saw a glistening spike rising into the air until it connected with the pillar fifteen feet from the base.


    For a second, nothing happened, then the man next to Joxin grunted like he was lifting a heavy burden, and the spike rippled. When it stilled, a torrent of cracks like overlapping thunder sounded in the chamber, and a ten-foot-tall section of the pillar fell to the side.


    Like a rope hanging from the limb of a tree suddenly cut at its top, the pillar fell apart in a cascade of blocks. Even as the stone slabs hung in the air, the earth groaned as the ceiling of the chamber sagged. It was like a beast the size of a mountain was clawing its way out of the ground beneath Joxin''s feet, causing the world to quiver.


    Joxin could only stand in place, his eyes wide in disbelief, as he watched the stone roof deform and flex in slow motion. From one moment to the next, Joxin felt light on his face, and his eyes stung as the world turned white. Blinded and deafened, Joxin could only think that the world was ending before him as the rumbling under his feet and cracking of stone in his ears grew in intensity until it physically hurt. And yet, the collapse only continued until he was forced to his knees as the ground shook.

 B2 Chapter 87

    Panta stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a few feet from the edge of the Command Table, looking down at its surface. The Command Room of the Triad had become much busier since the arrival of the Kin¡­ messenger, if some illusion was worthy of such a title.


    Regardless of any decision he made or actions they would take, several major changes needed to be made. The first and most annoying thing was that the Command Table map could not be used for notation, defensive diagrams, or unit orientation like it was designed to do.


    However, the headache didn''t end there. Since the Dark elves were no doubt watching everything Panta and his personnel were doing to their table, which was connected to the other two in real-time, they had to maintain a level of credibility as if they were still using the table, which quickly became a massive hassle and strain on their limited focus.


    It was only made worse by the spies, who were no doubt reporting what they saw in the city. When the dark elves received a report from their command telling them of what the Triad deployment should be ¡ª based on their observations of the Command Table in Basetown ¡ª and they compared it to what their operatives were reporting to them, they had to at least match on a surface level, or the dark elves would know something was up.


    Leaving him in the ungainly position where any portion of the legion larger than a century couldn''t move without a blatant reason. Reasons that were nowhere to be seen, as the dark elves were still trying to move in the shadows. Without a credible motivation to move troops, Panta and his staff had to trickle out centuries while making it look like they weren''t doing anything. It resulted in a lot of marching back and forth for his legionaries as Panta hoped whatever spies were watching weren''t bothering to keep track of the movements of individual centuries.


    And then came all the problems for his staff. While he was juggling his legionaries around to get them into defensive positions that could be used to hold the city in the case of a simultaneous outer and inner attack without looking obvious, his staff had to keep two sets of documents. One detailing where his men actually were, and the table showing where the dark elves thought they were.


    Matters were made even more difficult because Panta also had to keep track of the Senatorial Guard''s movements as they started their operation and any messages Shree sent regarding her negotiations with the Kin. All of this was, of course, placed on top of the general reports he was receiving on how the fighting in the outer rings of Southtown was going.


    It was only a matter of minutes after the Kin messenger dissipated that Panta had to enact temporary policies over the Command Room. The amount of traffic the constant stream of messengers created made it necessary that he divide sides of the passage into incoming and outgoing lines. And that didn''t mention how he required more aides to handle the increased number of reports, organize them, and then hand them off to those who needed to see them inside a room designed for a third of the current occupants.


    All of this was basically sending out a signal pulse message to the dark elves, indicating something was happening, regardless of how carefully he acted with the movements of his legionaries. But that was an unavoidable risk given the circumstances. They were mortal, after all, and it was only possible to do so much in a situation.


    "Sir!" A young man said, stepping up to Panta while flipping through a stack of papers wider than his chest.


    "Yes, Tribune?"


    "We have received the latest reports on the Senatorial Guard''s progress," the man stated. When Panta flicked his hand in a signal to continue, the tribune started speaking. "They have gathered all of the knights and engineers in their legions at the Western Fort and have nearly completed the construction of the tunnel. Currently, the work of expanding the tunnel is moving quickly, and they are almost prepared to move on to the next stage. Legatus Hellious is slowly redeploying his troops and making a show of reinforcing and advancing north along the Rush while he moves most of his veteran cohorts into the Western Fort. The Kin are mirroring his actions along the Rush with a force of their own but seem content to sit back and watch the events play out for now."


    "Understood." Panta said, "Extend my compliments to Legatus Hellious for moving his forces so quickly and skillfully. But urge him not to do anything that might provoke the Kin until we have word from Tribune Latic Shree that we have come to an understanding with them. No, it is not the time to risk engaging in another conflict." As the tribune finished speaking, the man expertly shuffled his papers into one arm, and the quill he pulled from somewhere to take notes disappeared before he pounded out a salute on his chest and stepped away with a ''yes sir.''


    Before the man had turned, a woman stepped up and started speaking, "Legatus, I have a report on the progression of our forces in the Third Ring." Waving for her to continue, Panta looked at the Command Table and then to the far wall, where a large map to the Triad had been pinned. His eyes flicked between them as he noted any differences between the units'' positions on the two maps.


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    It was a fruitless task. Because if there were any differences, a quick look wouldn''t reveal them, making it the same as Panta remembered. But taking a brief glance to confirm his memory cost him nothing more than a few seconds and could save the lives of many of his men, so he performed the action. "The First Cohort has secured and created a perimeter around the middle half of the external walls and expects to control the outer quarter in a few hours. The Fifth Cohort has relieved the Second on its march to Southtown''s western docks and has made substantial progress in their direction despite the constant harassment. The Sixth Cohort has moved into position to advance to Southtown''s Eastern Docks, though it has encountered surprisingly strong resistance¡­"


    Turning to look at the younger woman as she trailed off, Panta raised a brow in question. She clearly had more to report, but she seemed hesitant to say the next part for some reason. At the prompting look, her back straightened, and she started speaking in a clipped manner again, "As the Fifth Cohort secured their side of the Third Ring, they came across a battle that took place around and in a manner near the Second Ring walls between the First, Third, and Ninth Centuries of the Ninth Cohort and the civilian thralls. There are no reported survivors, though we do not know if the casualties equal our records of the number of personnel in the centuries, as digging through the dead will still take some time."


    The woman''s voice took on a harsh, almost vengeful edge as she continued speaking, "We also found a collapsed tunnel entrance in the manor''s cellar. From the description of the scene, it appears the cellar was being used as a casualty collection point, and the dark elves broke into it, launching a surprise attack. It seems the legionaries were pushed back, and the wounded were massacred."


    Releasing his breath, Panta forced his clenched hands and upper body to relax. He had sent one of his oldest friends on the risky mission for the duel purpose that Panta needed someone he could trust, and he was a grizzled old goat who had long outlived his life expectancy. In Yellron''s words, "It was better an old fool die than a young one." Not that it was saving all the others under his command currently fighting¡­ but the young have always paid for the mistakes of the old.


    Breaking out of his thoughts and looking around, Panta saw that the room had stopped, and everyone was watching the woman. Most had looks of fury on their faces, but just as many looked horrified or ill at the report. "This is nothing we didn''t already know the dark elves were capable of," Panta said, declaring the truth, as they had been fighting and killing the mind-controlled residents of Southtown for days at this point.


    They might have mainly been from the slums and the border areas around it, but that didn''t make them any less of their people. Not to mention the horrific times when they had to cut down a child¡­ Thankfully, there were few of those reports and many more reports of legionnaires finding civilians hiding within homes who needed evacuation, even if some of them were traps.


    No one said anything for a moment, and then a random tribune stepped forward and spoke for everyone. "This is different. Civilians are civilians, not wounded legionaries."


    It was a harsh truth, but the man wasn''t wrong. While everyone knew that all citizens spent time in the legion, it was simply knowing a fact. And seeing the corpse of a citizen wasn''t the same as seeing a dead legionary you shared a mind with. It went doubly so when it came to the wounded, who had already given their all.


    Dying in battle was expected. Dying of your wounds was a pity, but there was nothing that could be done about it. But killing those waiting to be treated or those who were recovering, not letting fate take its course, was¡­ wrong. And it didn''t sit well with anyone.


    Straightening his back, Panta looked around the room, meeting everyone''s eyes. "This is a bitter lesson, but it only proves why we fight. Our foe is no different than the beastkin ¡ª savage animals that must be put down. If they lack the nobility to offer mercy, then we will just have to carve the lesson into their flesh until they learn. Or they have all been slaughtered." As he spoke, the eyes of those around him hardened, and they began to sport feral grins and nod along with his words. When Panta judged the mood had shifted enough, he nodded, signaling the end of the conversation, then ordered, "So get back to work."


    The room lurched into motion again, and those striding around the Command Room seemed to move a little faster as they gained new purpose. At that moment, a messenger rushed past the others waiting in line outside the chamber. She quickly arrived at the doors, where she passed the tribune a slip of paper along with a few words and a salute as she stepped to the side waiting. The man took a glance and then turned and moved across the room, where he presented the slip of paper to Panta.


    Taking the note and dipping his head in thanks, Panta unfolded it and smiled. "Oh? Something good after your rousing speech?" Quinteea commented lightheartedly as she walked up.


    "Never let it be said that I can not inspire the ranks when needed," Panta said back, breaking his stoic disposition for a bit of banter. "And Shree has reported success in her efforts. She has not stated the details, but I doubt the Kin would ask for too much given their position."


    Quinteea''s lips quirked in the slightest smile of relief, and the tension in her shoulders ever so slightly lessened. "So, the plan is coming together?"


    "It would seem so¡­ but we are in no way near the end of this trial." His second in command nodded in agreement, then adjusted her armor before returning to her position overlooking the two maps.


    Minutes stretched into hours, and reports flooded in and out of the room. With every slip of paper and ink, the legion ground forward. No single action or event ever seemed to mean all that much, but in their totality, they shaped the future.


    Then the building shook, and the reverberating rumble could be heard echoing into the command room. In the shock that crashed down after the ground stilled, Panta roared, "Get me a damn report of what just happened!"

 B2 Chapter 88

    Knowing no one could answer his question for minutes at best, and even then, he wouldn''t have the whole story for even longer, Panta made a snap decision as he shouted to his personal messenger the next moment, "Lukaso! Get the legion union up now!"


    Not even a second later, Panta felt a tendril pressing on his mind, and he didn''t hesitate to accept it. Sinking into the mental network, Panta fed a sliver of his psy into the casting, but it was barely enough for him to remain attached to the network as he mentally stepped back and watched the web of burning minds expand.


    It wasn''t that he didn''t want to shoulder his portion of the union, but the legion had long learned that the most crucial trait of a legatus wasn''t the brute force of their psy, and that went doubly so for their tactics. In the past, many legati placed themselves in the center of the mental network while standing at the front of the battle lines, and there was an excellent reason for taking such a risk.


    The best way to inspire one''s troops was to lead them from the front. That could only do so much, however, as mortals were mortals. While legionaries might know logically that their legatus was in the battle line with them or off on a flank leading a cavalry charge, they couldn''t see it through the massed people. Being able to feel their leader in the back of their minds pushing them forward and fighting with them was a big motivator, causing them to fight harder.


    It was also the main cause for many legatus being killed in battle, shattering the morale of the legion along with the union they were controlling, which usually resulted in the collapse and subsequent slaughter of the legionaries.


    There were also numerous occasions when the legatus didn''t go to the front lines but still maintained personal control of the union, and the result wasn''t much better. The legatus would exhaust their psy and willpower by personally sending messages and managing the legion network, and they would end up collapsing into a haze as the strain of a long battle built up, leaving them unable to lead their men.


    The result of the second circumstance was nearly as drastic as the first. Usually, those second or third in command were able to wrench the situation back under control, but not always, and the cost was far more lives than would have otherwise been lost. After losing entire legions over a dozen times due to the leader being too aggressive and enthusiastic, the senate went about enacting serious reforms.


    Mainly, the reforms pushed legati to focus on endurance and control rather than personal strength and glory. The result was that a legatus took several steps back when it came to a battle.


    Sure, there were still moments of intense combat where all reserves were deployed, and even the legatus and his personal retinue were needed to hold the line, but the focus had shifted. Legati now spent more time training their minds and studying the records of old battles to guide the course and flow of a battle, which was a stark departure from the past.


    So Panta turned and walked around the podium behind him to the stairs and up to the seat they led to. Settling down and getting comfortable ¡ª as it would more than likely be his position for the next few hours, if not day ¡ª most of Panta''s attention was on the exploding web of minds growing around him.


    In seconds, the union had grown to contain hundreds of minds and was only growing faster. Already, the Messenger Cohort ¡ª though it was more a couple of centuries than a cohort numbers-wise ¡ª of the 15th Legion had pushed the network past the confines of the command building in the center of the Southern Fortress and was reaching its walls.


    At that point, the expansion of the union stopped, and Panta frowned. Details about the event had already appeared, which was not a good sign. It wasn''t that those on the walls directly experienced the event, but they could see a massive dust cloud billowing into the air around the main thoroughfare and First Ring''s wall.


    As a general rule, the further the impact of an event can be directly felt, the greater its effects will be. That line of thought was only magnified in a battle, where seconds could determine victory or defeat. With a dust cloud going over a hundred yards into the air and still expanding¡­


    Panta jumped into action, mentally connecting to his second in command, "Quinteea, link with Hellious and keep him appraised of the situation. Request that some of his reserve cohorts be positioned as a quick response force to reinforce us. Once we get a grasp of the situation, we may have to call on them to support us."


    "On it." His Prefect immediately sent back before sending out her own orders, as she could feel his growing apprehension. Shifting his attention to the union as a whole, Panta felt that all but one section of the network had stopped.


    Generally, every man, woman, and camp follower was pulled within the union when a legion was in battle. Every drop of psy was helpful and could prove to be the difference that tilted the scales in their favor, but that was when a legion was defending a fortress or out on deployment in the field.


    When defending a city, that rule flew right out the window to shatter on the crafted ground below. First and foremost, no noble wanted to be drained like a well, and forcing them to do so wasn''t worth the headache. But that still left the far larger portion of the city ready to be conscripted.


    As for why they weren''t linked together, it came down to distance and obstructions. Finding people in the mess of buildings and remaining connected to them was a struggle with trained messengers on active duty. Keeping those who never received messenger training and most likely forgot their legion basics in a union with telepathic tendrils winding around and through buildings cost more than it usually benefited.


    Rather than keeping everyone inside a union and tapping everyone dry before the battle ever started, pulse messages were used to relay commands over the city. This still required the messengers to be in places like towers or any other obvious high point to spread the orders over the streets, which wasn''t as convenient as it sounded.


    While towers were always positioned along the walls, they were few and far between inside them, and in many places between buildings, you couldn''t see a tower at all. It wasn''t ideal, but few things were during war, and the messengers should ¡ª if only just ¡ª adequately relay orders and messages across the city to keep Panta informed.


    There would be some loss as positions were lost and the messengers struggled to cope with the flood of reports, but that was to be expected. Panta would just have to ensure he was never caught flat-footed and unable to respond to the evolving situation.


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    However, there were exceptions to the rule. Knights remained linked to the greater union as long and as often as they could to receive orders directly from Panta ¡ª or the higher ranks of his tribunes ¡ª when at all able, as there was little room for miscommunication with them. In such a vein, Panta felt the connection to his century of knights placed in reserve inside the First Ring.


    Focusing on them before they had fully stabilized their connection, Panta ordered, "Knight Centurion Brackus, move to the dust cloud with your knights, clear the dust, and report back. I need to know what is going on there. I will be sending the Eighth Cohort as support."


    "We''re moving, Legatus. We''ll be there in under four minutes." The Molten Man rumbled as he slapped his steel helm onto his head and mentally and physically started shouting for the knights around him to get up and start moving.


    Panta watched the knights clank into motion, their bodies moving at superhuman speeds down streets and even leaping onto roofs as they rushed toward the dust cloud in the distance, their bodies enhanced with psy. Within seconds, they had moved more than a hundred yards from the small square they were resting in, reaching the edge of the zone where the nearby messenger could easily support their connection, causing him to let it go.


    While the knights blurred off, they were not faster than the psy rippling through the air above them. Panta was not one to rely on a single point of failure. All around the dust cloud, messengers were being ordered to immediately form a union, gather reports of what happened, and send them back. The first reports were less than Panta had hoped for but no more than he expected.


    If anything happens suddenly and without warning in front of many people, and you go around asking what happened, you will get a wide array of answers. To find the truth, you had to sort through them all and see the common threads.


    Closing his eyes, Panta couldn''t stop his lips from twitching in a frown at the flood of answers he was getting. His assumption of the varied contents of the reports was wrong. From those who knew anything, he was getting basically the same response: There was some rumbling from below a few minutes before, and then the First Ring''s outer wall had collapsed around its main gate.


    Whether people noticed the alarming rumbling under their feet beforehand and if it was there at all was up for debate, but it ultimately didn''t matter. The fact was that every single person was confident about what caused the dust cloud ¡ª well, except one report where a man was swearing a rock fell from the sky to strike the earth ¡ª was saying the wall fell into the ground.


    Panta didn''t let the deaths of those manning the walls or worries about what would happen around the new breach affect his mind. Instead, he was wholly focused on the drastic adjustments to his battle plan and deployment he would have to make before it was too late.


    **********


    When Brackus thumped to the cast stone street and started steadily ripping large swaths of dust from the air to pile on the ground around him, he was already confident of what he would see, as he had intercepted many pulse messages on the way here. And he wasn''t proven wrong.


    The knight''s metal-clad feet stood at the lip of a wide slope leading into the earth, or so he assumed from the five-foot section he could see. Not that he would see that far for long, as encroaching on the visible air Brackus had just cleared was all the dust still hanging in the air around him.


    While he could extend his psy into the dirt in the air and move it around, he couldn''t do it for more than a dozen feet in any direction, and it was psy-intensive. Which meant this wasn''t a job for him. "Pekloo," he sent into the knights'' network, "Use the wind and blow this away."


    The Knight Igna-Ventus paused momentarily and then replied, "I''ll be tapped after this. Probably won''t be able to snuff out a candle."


    "Acknowledged, continue anyway." Not waiting for a second order, a gust of wind whistled over and through Brackus''s and the other knights'' armor, rapidly pushing the dust away.


    Brackus couldn''t stop his eyes from widening in shock as the hundreds of feet to where the wall should be were steadily revealed. His heart stopped as dread filled more of his veins with every passing second and foot of ground. What he was seeing wasn''t the results of a desperately thrown-together plan in hours but the cumulation of an intricately laid strategy that had been brought to fruition over months, if not years.


    The road continued at a gentle angle downward, almost like it had been built that way. To the sides of the road was the occasional outcropping of a ruined building''s wall sticking up at an odd angle. Those were the anomalies, though, as most of the collapsed buildings had formed an even slope stretching to the sides for hundreds of feet. An entire cohort of a thousand could march three hundred across and not touch the edges of the trench.


    As the fighting field was revealed ¡ª as there was nothing else it could be ¡ª it dipped lower and lower until it finally reached the battlements of the First Ring Wall. Not a collapsed wall, or a knocked-over wall, or even the scattered stones that were once a hundred-fifty-foot wall, but its top. The walkway with its merlons sticking up five feet to the upward side of the ramp. With more dust being blown away, the full scale of the breach in their defense became clear. And yet, it was all wrong.


    There wasn''t a single figure rushing across and up the breach to attack the inner city. Pulse messages were nearly constantly relayed all around the dust cloud and the city enveloping it, and there were no large forces being reported inside the walls.


    Not that the knight could contemplate the oddities for long. A moment later, Brackus felt a knight at the rear of their formation connect to a messenger, giving them a line back to their legatus. Immediately, the knight centurion started relaying what information he had.


    **********


    It made absolutely no sense to Panta why this trap would be triggered now¡­ unless the dark elves wanted to offer us terms for surrender while being in the superior position? No, that can''t be true. This would be showing too much of their hand, as they haven''t even officially talked to us yet, let alone made their presence known. It has to be something else.


    Panta observed Brackus''s head snap to the side at some movement and saw fighting. While there were bodies of legionnaires around the wall, they were all dead from the fall.


    The humans Brackus saw fighting were off to the side, inside an alcove on the bottom left side of the destruction. "Assist them and get a report," Panta ordered Brackus before he moved his attention to the wider battle.


    It didn''t matter how this happened; the fact was that it did, and that had consequences for good or ill. Panta''s game with the Dark Elves was over.


    No one was stupid enough to think that a "riot" would be capable of bringing down hundreds of feet of legion wall, and if he started looking around, he was reasonably confident of finding more such traps. If they could do this to one of the inner walls, why not the outer walls? That was only reasonable, as once you breach the outer walls of a city in a siege, it was usually the beginning of the end.


    "Lukaso, order all the legionnaires but the messengers and their teams off the walls and three blocks into whatever ring they are stationed in. They are to make barricades to block the streets. They are authorized to destroy any buildings they find necessary. Coordinate with Quineeta and my staff to find key points that need to be held. Let everyone know that our foes are underground and can come from anywhere, so they cannot trust their rears are secure. Quineeta, send messages relaying the situation to Hellious and Shree and tell them that we will have to move the plan up as soon as possible." Looking at the map, Panta continued to rattle off orders to shore up points he thought were weak, but he was mostly waiting for what actions the dark elves would take next.


    His forces might not have been in the best positions to kick off the battle, but the situation could have been far worse. All in all, this should be good enough. But there was a doubt tickling the back of his mind; what else didn''t he know?


    The uncertainty of what would happen next caused a thrill of excitement to run through Panta, causing his lips to curl up. It might be frowned upon, but he did love controlling the flow of a battle, the lives and deaths of thousands in his hands.


    And this was looking to be the biggest gamble and battle of his life.

 B2 Chapter 89

    Shree sat in a cushioned armchair, her back straight as a board. Her hands were placed atop each other on her lap, and her elbows slightly indented the padded armrests. A serene expression was plastered on her face as she internally seethed, unwilling to give the creatures around her any more pleasure at her disgrace.


    To each side of her were more seats placed in a half circle, with small side tables next to each chair holding drinks and delicate snacks. An intricate cloth canopy was spread over them, showing scenes of birds flying through puffy clouds and over mountain peaks. Under their feet was a large mosaic carpet that mirrored the canopy but showed land animals bounding through an old forest.


    All in all, the accommodations showed some crafting skill, the wine was decent ¡ª though nothing compared to a 1029 from Chanlos Vineyard ¡ª the temperature was abnormally pleasant under the canopy compared to the sweltering heat a step past its edge, and the seat was surprisingly soft. However, she was still despising every second.


    Shree would like nothing more than to storm away, and, if she thought she could get away with it, send some assassins back for the male creature seated to her right¡­ but she couldn''t. It wasn''t that the assassins she knew of would be incompetent and incapable of the task. No, it was far from that.


    Her family had connections to some of the best, but sneaking past a bunch of beastkin with weird powers and no idea where the target was, seemed like a bit of a stretch for their skills. However, that should only raise the price.


    The main reason was that Shree would be one of the first to fall under scrutiny, which, in itself, decided the matter. As her father always said, "If you can''t pin it on someone else, don''t do it."


    The sentiment applied to many things in life. And yet, the arrogant, self-satisfied beastkin to her right was someone she was seriously contemplating openly killing for the pure joy of it, even if she had to suffer the repercussions.


    "We are going to be stuck here a while," the man next to her drawled, his mocking tone grating over her skin. "Might as well enjoy the scenery and the wine while we wait."


    Clenching her jaw, Shree stopped herself from grinding her teeth together, but she couldn''t fully relax her throat by the time she spoke, causing her voice to come out ever so slightly strained. ¡°Waiting¡­ I have experienced much of it lately¡­"


    "Could not be helped, my dear lady." The foxkin said, waving his goblet in a wide arc gesturing to all that was around them, "We had to gather the Faction Leaders, something that you should understand, as I doubt our societies are so different that gathering powerful and influential people is considered an easy task."


    Shree opened her mouth to deny the claim, then moved her cup to her lips and took a sip. The wine wasn''t bad, but it was rather bitter at the moment, as she had to concede the point to this creature. As good as Shree was at controlling her expression and voice, she could not put a genuine tone into her voice and say it was easy to gather nobles to do anything.


    From the corner of her eye, she caught the curl of his lips before he raised his cup to take a sip, which Shree was sure she was supposed to see, making it all the more infuriating. Lowering her cut, Shree said, "Perhaps you have a point, but I do find it difficult to enjoy the scenery when the sky is obscured by the smoke of a burning Olimpian city. A rather prominent one within my people''s history, as a matter of fact. One could almost take it as you wanting my people to suffer and be weakened."


    "Want~" The messenger, who was also the temporary leader of the Redtail Faction, slowly said as if tasting the word and trying to tease out every possible meaning. "No." Suddenly, his voice took on a hard edge. And, for the first time since she arrived and was made to wait for hours before giving the gathered representatives a low bow in the field as an apology, he sounded serious. "No, I would not say I ''want'' your people to do anything. You need to understand. That would be a better way of putting it."


    The fox got up from where he sat and slowly walked to the center of the half-circle. He put his hands behind his back just above his tails and looked at Southtown burning across the river. "I want your people to understand that we are not the real threat. We are an obvious challenge, an unsheathed blade, but you have failed to notice that we are not pointed at you. You do not understand that even while we talk here, the majority of our warriors, the veteran armies of our factions, are fighting in the Broken Peaks, holding the passes. But it doesn''t matter, as, apparently, the slime-covered worms wiggling their way out of the ground have long found their way into your society. So, we find ourselves employing the greatest teaching aid mortals have ever conceived. Suffering."


    At that, the beastkin turned to face her, his face stern and eyes burning with determination, "You and your people will suffer. You will learn by death and destruction the power of their machinations, the depths of their plans. Your people will kill each other, and once you are weakened ¡ª pushed to the breaking point ¡ª they will appear. And you will despair, as you know that all your fighting never mattered, as the war was lost long ago."


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    The conviction in the beastkin''s voice and the burning intensity of his eyes locked Shree in place. A little shiver ran down her spine, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. At the moment, Shree couldn''t tell if it was the fear of what he was saying that got to her or the intensity of his speech and gaze¡­ but she didn''t care for either. "There is nothing that can stand before the might of our legions. The Republic has existed for thousands of years, and we will not be brought low by the machinations of those who only move in the shadows." She said, forcing the words out and filling them with a conviction she couldn''t fully feel in that moment.


    "If." Was all the fox said in response.


    Seconds ticked by, and soon, most of two awkward minutes passed. By that point, it was abundantly clear the beastkin was content to stare at Shree until she asked the question. Trying not to show her annoyance ¡ª and that his tactic was getting to her ¡ª by doing something so obvious as gritting her teeth, Shree asked in a sickly sweet voice, "If?"


    The fox didn''t even try to hide the victorious smirk, and the embarrassment was only made worse as a woman and man sitting in a trio lounging off to the side snickered. "If they fight you in the field. If you can find them. If they do not turn your people against each other, and in your ignorance, do their work for them. If¡­ If¡­ If. If you survive this battle and report their existence. What they have done."


    "We already came to an understanding for your aid. Are you going back on your word now? Is this the extent of the Kins'' guarantee, where they will go back on a promise once they see a chance for further gain?"


    "Not in the slightest," the male said, flashing a knowing smile at Shree, "I am just informing you that even if we win and everything goes perfectly, not all of their agents will be dead. Probably not even most, given they have been among you for months. Perhaps years? How many minds have they implanted thoughts into and twisted? How many commands are waiting to be triggered? A truth you should know is that you have never met a people more petty and vindictive than the Letairry. They would rather watch the world burn than let the smallest of slights go unanswered. How many cards will they play to remove a piece that united their two foes?"


    The beastkin had started walking to the side as he spoke, and he had moved around her to the point that Shree would have to turn her head and shoulders to follow his movement, which she was unwilling to do. So his voice continued to speak from her back, almost like he was caressing her neck. "Not because you are a threat to them or to enact revenge on you for all those you had a hand in the killing, but simply because you will act as an example. Possibly the first, but definitely not the last, extinction, showcasing what it means to stand against them."


    "Absurd." Shree scoffed, but there was a flicker of doubt in her chest. She had heard plenty of first-hand accounts from nobles who had done the same thing. "Even if what you say was true, and I have my reservations on the matter, the only way such a warning has any meaning is when those in power are aware of who is sending the message. To expose themselves to such an extent to make their warning would go against everything you have told us about our mutual foe."


    "You have a point," the temporary faction leader admitted while popping his head into her vision, now on the other side from where he vanished and too close for her liking. "I guess assassins sent for you will be solely based on how much your actions aggravate them, meaning you aren''t worth the really skilled ones."


    Shree found herself in a unique position at that statement. On one hand, saying she wasn''t worth the best of anything was somewhat insulting. Her noble family deserved nothing but the finest quality items. Nevertheless, arguing that she deserved the best assassin would be¡­


    Well, for one, it was dangerous for her health and, more importantly, far too juvenile of an argument for her to be making. Deciding that she had already wasted too much time verbally sparring with this beastkin ¡ª a low point in her life, if there ever was one ¡ª Shree changed the subject to one that mattered, "We have been here for hours. Where are the troops you are supposed to be gathering? And are you even capable of enacting the other part of the plan? I can''t help but wonder if you have no intention of prov¡ª


    A rumble filled the air, and Shree looked to the south with everyone else, seeing a massive cloud of gray dust shooting into the late morning air. The sound and thunder lasted for what felt like several minutes, and once it all ended, the fox was the one to break the silence. "Well, this might be an assumption on my part, but I think the Letairry has made a move. Should we start the plan now?"


    "No," Shree said, her voice containing an authority it had lacked since she arrived before these beasts and groveled for forgiveness and a favor. "Any actions you take will only make the situation worse. You are the poison and the hammer, so it is better to wait for a report before taking any preemptive actions."


    "I agree wit'' t''e girl," Rumbled a large scared bear of a man who had stood at the edge of the gathering, who had never once taken his eyes off Southtown and its surrounding area. None of the faction leaders questioned his words, so the gathering fell into an anticipatory silence. Minutes slipped by, and then they saw the gate to the Northern Fort of the Triad burst open, and a messenger turned and ran toward them.


    Watching the man heaving for air stand before her, Shree took the slip of paper he was offering before unfolding it and reading the message. "Well," asked the annoyed fox before she had finished reading.


    Giving him a look of irritation, Shree straightened her posture and tilted her chin up as she spoke, "It appears a cavern was dug under the wall of the First Ring''s wall, and that dust cloud was it collapsing, taking the area with it. As of yet, there is no coordinated attack on the city, and we are to wait until they have a clearer picture of the situation."


    Her voice had no give, and what was phrased more as a suggestion in the note became a command to these savages. After all, if she played this right, this was her opportunity to make a name for herself.

 B2 Chapter 90

    Using his own eyes, Panta looked down at the map placed over the Command Table''s surface, taking in how the entire deployment of his legion had changed. After the collapse of the First Ring Wall hours ago, Panta completely gave up trying to hide his actions.


    The false troop maneuvers to the Command Table were wiped clean, making it nothing more than a basic map of the Triad and surrounding area. Using a parchment map was less accurate, but Panta would sooner employ a secure sub-optimal alternative than the compromised table.


    On the positive side, using the map became more manageable once the union was established, and it became clear that the suppressive force enveloping the city was now gone. Not that he was entirely pleased with that particular discovery, as there were hours of cautious actions before he was informed of the situation.


    The short of it was that it took far longer than it should have for the reports of the scouts who ended up in the massive tunnel network beneath their feet to reach him. And it took just as long for the report of the remnants of the three centuries from the 9th cohort, and apparently, the Reaper living in his city, to arrive as well.


    Both stories, in their own ways, were worthy of acknowledgment and acclaim. A fact Panta would not forget after this battle was over. Because if it wasn''t for them, he had doubts about whether his plan would have worked at all.


    The blows they dealt to the Letairry were staggering individually, and together, they were devastating. The jade pillar would make the fight all but impossible against the dark elves if it was drawn out and spread out, as coordination and communication would be limited to how fast feet could run.


    The competence of commanders in carrying out their orders unsupervised would predetermine many fights, especially with limited to no training under such conditions. Panta had no faith that such events would work out in the legion''s favor, and he would spend much time addressing the matter in the coming days.


    And then there was Redgenald, commandeering the centuries for his mission, which was the best call, even if it rankled him to have his men follow another''s commands. Putting aside how his actions prevented a devastating blow to morale and the negative shift in the course of the battle that would have occurred after a wall collapse with all of its defenders before an advancing foe ¡ª which was no small matter ¡ª Panta could now plan his defenses around the destruction of the walls. At first, he was guessing there were other sapping chambers built, but now he had two separate reports, one from the scouts encountering a long hollow chamber and the other from Redgenald''s mind-reaping.


    Supplied with that information, Panta set about destroying Southtown. Any report of a tunnel in the outer rings would mean the collapse of every nearby building and the formation of roadblocks around the location. The heavy-handed approach meant that all those civilians hiding would be thrown out of their homes ¡ª the ones who hadn''t already fled, at least ¡ª but nothing could be done about that.


    Instead of welcoming the potential security risks and having an uprising in their midsts at an inopportune time, by gathering the refugees into the forts, those too weak to fight were moved through the Triad in a steady stream across the river to the western side of the Rush and outside the fort''s walls. For those who were of a fighting age, many of them demanded the right to take up arms and fight for their homes before being asked.


    As was typical around a legion, stories had spread like wildfire, and everyone within Southtown had heard exaggerated tails of what was going on. Specifically, who and what was tearing the city apart by using its own citizens. The hearsay made the goblins into vicious, bloodthirsty monsters and the dark elves into mind-controlling wraiths, but Panta didn''t care overly much about the stories.


    There were some issues, as those with elven blood were persecuted by their neighbors, many of them being beaten to death by the mobs before legionaries could arrive. The main saving grace was that the population of elves within the city was small, so there were few casualties.


    Besides those isolated areas, the news of their foe gave those cowering in their homes at the fighting something they could lash out at instead of the nebulous concept of the dissatisfied destitute in the slums. Steel entered their spines as the fear of some rogue reaper terrorizing their city morphed into a tangible attack.


    Volunteers appeared by the thousands, half from rage at citizens being controlled to kill each other and the other half from fear, as they had nowhere to flee. North was the Kin that no one really trusted. South and East were the Letairry, and the Western Planes were being flooded with roving bands of beastkin.


    So, the citizens surged forward. They came in such numbers that the fort didn''t contain a large enough surplus of weapons and armor to properly outfit the tens of thousands of men clambering to fight. It wasn''t that serious of a problem, as most men retained a spear or sword in their homes, remnants passed down through the family or a memento from their own years of service.


    Not that there weren''t those who could only find a long pointed stick for a weapon, but they weren''t as many as there would have been in other cities. Everyone in the Triad was fully aware that their walls would be the first to be hit by a hoard of beastkin, and in the back of their minds were the old stories of hoards being able to carpet the land as far as you could see.


    It was a significant part of the reason the city experienced a steady outflow of inhabitants once its relevance dropped. Still, that same fear meant everyone who remained usually kept a weapon or two on hand.


    Even if all a man had to offer as a weapon was a pointed stick, it was still better to have them than not. The main benefit of the militia wasn''t their fighting abilities but the psy they provided to the legion. That reserve alone more than made up for any lack they might have with their gear, stamina, and training. With the psy provided by the volunteers, they could now reshape the city.


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    The first task Panta gave out was to his Prime Cohort, the veterans with the strongest psy abilities in his legion. Their task was simple if the hardest to fulfill and implement.


    All they had to do was hold the main roadway through the city. The road that Panta expected the main thrust of the Letairry attack to appear along. Piles of stone were being pushed together every hundred feet, mostly gathered from the buildings along the sides of the road that were partially collapsed for material.


    The key word in there was "partially," as the buildings along the main boulevard were designed for archers to fire down from them like battlements. With that thought in mind, the buildings along the streets were constructed with extra thick walls, and the street had few intersecting roads and no alleys, making it a funnel.


    The perfect defense to cut down wave after wave of beastkins while falling back to the next wall. It wouldn''t work out as well in this fight, given that this foe wasn''t mindless, but it was still the fastest and most direct path to the second ring''s outer wall.


    In every other part of the city, similar events were taking place. This battle would not be one where they held the walls and beat back attacking waves. The dark elves had already seen to that, and if Panta was honest, it didn''t fit that well into his plans either. So, he decided to go another route.


    There would be no siege of the city, and he could not deploy his legions in the field for a head-on fight. Panta could only justify such actions with proper intelligence, such as knowledge of their location and preferably reports of the enemy''s disposition and numbers to properly deploy his troops against them.


    Without such knowledge, he would not hastily take such actions. Even if the Kin told him the location of the Letairry camp, Panta did not trust them sufficiently to act on the intelligence with blind faith, so he would pull the dark elves into the city and charge them for every foot of ground they took with their blood.


    Every blockade would be a wall, and every street intersection would be a field to muster their strength. Alleys were their canyons, while the rooftops were clifftops with sheer sides. Committing to such a battle had its pros and cons.


    On the somewhat bright side, given how everyone will be spread out and often trying to hide before launching a surprise attack, communications will be limited. That fact was frankly a mixture of good and bad, but it had the decidedly positive effect of making it so no single engagement would spell the end of the fighting and routing of the legionaries. The engagement in Southtown Panta was setting up would be a battle that should last for days and a clean-up that could possibly last months longer.


    Depending on how things played out, another major boon or bane of this kind of fight was the number of lives it would claim. Either they would cut a massive slice from the Letairry army or be quickly ground into nothing.


    That wasn''t to say that Panta didn''t have the Southtown fort as a last line of defense to hold out within, but he was sure that the dark elves had something unpleasant planned if they made it that far. Not that it changed much, as he had to hold the fort and city.


    While he distributed his cohorts into the rings of the city, he had to call on the Senatorial Guard for support. Four reserve cohorts stationed within the Southern Fort went a long way, but he couldn''t take any more from them, as the Guard needed most of their strength to hold the other forts and implement their portion of the plan.


    Not that Panta could fortify Southtown and move his units into position without any resistance. The thralls appeared at every turn, but their numbers were far lower than before as thousands lay dead, which made them far more dangerous.


    Instead of the dark elves hiding in the city having to control thousands of individuals, they had hundreds, meaning they could concentrate far more on each fighter. Instead of the thralls moving like puppets, they actually looked like living beings, though they were still taking actions that no sane person would. There were few circumstances where someone was willing to die for the sake of taking another being with them.


    As the day wore on and the legionaries solidified their positions, goblins began showing up, causing a nuisance of themselves. It was rare that they would attack directly, but they were seen darting through the shadows, attempting to start fires or collapsing buildings onto legionaries.


    Some of the creatures had short bows, and they would appear to let loose a volley or two before slipping into shadows again. If they were chased, the odds were they were leading their pursuers into a trap. The traps ranged from collapsing the ground into a cavern to simply having their brethren positioned to surround the force when it appeared.


    And as the day stretched from late morning into evening, the traps became more nasty and elaborate. By now, the legionaries didn''t even want to chase after the creatures as they huddled behind their shields, waiting for the legion archers to arrive or the goblins to give up.


    It bred resentment within the militia and legionaries, and when they were given a chance, they would willingly take their frustrations out on the creatures. Their severed head placed on spikes seemed to infuriate the goblins, leading them to pick up their harassment of the legionaries.


    The situation was one that he could do little about, as Panta had intentionally decentralized his command and troops, basically leaving his cohorts to survive or die in their zones on their own. But as of half an hour ago, all the attacks and harassment stopped out of nowhere.


    Panta and everyone else didn''t see it as a good sign, even if it allowed many of their positions to finish up reinforcing their defenses. Why would an enemy attacking them for hours suddenly stop? Because they were gathering their forces and coordinating before kicking off a significant push.


    If he had to guess, and he was, Panta would say that their attack would happen sometime around sunset, which was a matter of minutes away. Taking a moment to relax, he lifted the mug on his side table to his lips, gulping down a mouthful of the strong tea. The taste was bitter, but he felt a wave washing over his mind and through his body, sweeping away most of his fatigue. It wasn''t all of it, but he could feel himself thinking better, even if there was a price to pay later if he consumed too much of the substance.


    "Are we ready?" Quineeta asked in a quiet voice to his side.


    Opening his eyes, Panta looked at the younger woman. He could see the fear she was trying to hide in how tightly her hands were clasped together. The uncertainty in her head constantly moved as her eyes flicked around the map. And the guilt in her slightly hunched shoulders. Despite the height she had reached within the legion, the woman had never been in command of a significant battle where thousands would die if they were lucky.


    "As well as we can be," Panta reassured. "There is only so much we can do, as we only control half the battle. You should remember a good commander is determined by their ability to plan and coordinate their troops, and a great commander is determined by their ability to adapt."


    ¡°¡­Which one are you?"


    "Don''t know, that is for history to decide." Panta looked up with a slight curl of his lips and a twinkle in his eyes. "So let''s make ourselves look good, aye?"


    Quineeta smiled back in return but was cut off by a distant rumbling. Closing his eyes, Panta sucked in a deep breath before letting it out through his nose. At its end, his eyes opened in conjunction with the sound petering out, and he asked in a calm and level tone, "How many breaches are there in the outer wall, and what are the estimates for our foe''s numbers?"

 B2 Chapter 91

    Otromah felt the ground shake and heard what could only be the start of the thunderous collapse of the wall behind him. Before his centurion could give the command, he was clambering to his feet, his free hand cinching the straps anchoring his arm to his shield before settling on his sword hilt as he stepped up to the mostly level rubble walkway to their defensive mound ¡ª as it didn''t count as a wall in his opinion¡­ Not that anyone has given a shit about my opinion since I joined the Legion.


    The construction was pretty straightforward, just a mound of rocks piled five feet tall across the hundred-foot road. However, the engineers got a little fancy and gave them a foot-and-a-half stone parapet and added staggered pedestals for lanterns along the wall.


    It was small, but it did a lot to cover their legs from those about to climb up the pile and attack them. Most of all, if you didn''t have to drop then lift a twenty-pound shield every other second to block alternating low and high blows, it preserved their arms and psy, and Otromah, along with the rest of the First Century of the Prime Cohort, appreciated that.


    As a wave of dust burst into the air and rolled over the courtyard and then the street toward the over strength century holding the first line of defense, Otromah felt a wave of relief. Their Legatus was right. The wall was a trap, and now they had a chance to fight instead of dying helplessly smashed amongst house-sized blocks of stone.


    Reaching out to accept the tendril probing his mind, Otromah heard his centurion bark in his head, "Get your shields up and draw your swords and spears, you sons of bitches! Can''t you tell it''s time to start the party!?"


    As one, the fifty legionaries in the front row along the wall lifted their shields and drew their swords, placing the flat of their blades on the top of their shields. Behind them, the other three ranks defending the position lifted spears, readying themselves to thrust them through any gaps in the shields and bodies. "I don''t really feel like partying tonight, centurion," Complained Tellot, "think if I go ask them nicely, they will come back in the morning?"


    Centurion Atticious didn''t say anything but didn''t need to. His mind radiated unamused disregard laced with a hint of menace. "Ouch," Teased Harper as the dust wave washed over them, cutting down their vision to a handful of feet, "that was worse than usual. And don''t worry, Tellot, go out there and ask them. I''m sure they''ll stand there and listen to what you have to say¡­ I''m gonna wait here, though."


    "Yeah, Tellot, go on." Harkona egged on. "I''ll be right behind you."


    "Don''t worry, if you die, we''ll avenge you." Snickered Dewvont.


    ¡°¡­You know what?" Tellot said after a moment, "I''m tired of the shit I''ve been getting for communicating my ideas. Communication and debate is a patriotic and time-honored tradition of the Republic. This hostility is unwarranted."


    "How is saying you want to sue the Legion for psychological torture ¡ª where did you learn that phrase, by the way ¡ª for supplying us with only travel rations on long deployment patriotic?" Otromah asked. "Pretty sure that''s the opposite of patriotic."


    "Or how you insist we should stain all our clothes white to be more comfortable in the heat, replacing the traditional colors of the legion." Added Harper, one of many mentally lining up to bring up one of the countless topics Tellot complained about over the last years.


    "Shut your traps and eyes forward," Cut in Centurion Atticious, "I hear something." At once, everyone''s mind snapped from the banter and focused on the two feet of lit air they could see in the dust-filled street. Tension filled the mental network as the legionnaires lost the minor distraction of needling each other.


    Straining his ears, Otromah searched for any sound beyond the breathing and shifting of those beside him. And he could hear¡­ the slight noise of dirt pattering against the ground as it fell. Beyond that, there was noth¡ª Wait, what is that? So faintly that he thought it was his heart at first, the legionary made out a deep and steady boom, boom, boom.


    As soon as Otromah noticed it, the sound began to fill his ears and mind. It grew louder and louder until it was like he was a child and he was standing before a monstrous beast, listening to its pounding heartbeat. It would lung at him at any moment. If he didn''t fl¡ª


    "Control your thoughts!" Bellowed their centurion with both his lungs and mind. "Create a mental shield and keep out the fear! Are you so weak that you cannot withstand a simple mental attack? Where is your pride as the First Prime of the 15th!? Get back in line and show them your strength!"


    Like a wind blowing away a fog, Otromah blinked, and the fear was gone, replaced by the uncompromising demands and expectations of his centurion. Noticing that he had half-turned and taken a step in flight, Otromah felt a flush of shame as he threw his body back around to face the enemy again and stand next to his brothers.


    He was not the only one to feel such a way, as it seemed like only a third of the century resisted falling into the trap of the pounding drum. Now that he knew it was there, he could feel a slight foreign fear prickling at his mind, but it was¡­ distant.


    If he welcomed it in, it would start to fill and consume him, but he would have to take that first step, and a minor effort would repel the force. Which was probably the point, as it would take a constant exertion on the legionaries'' part.


    Before his ¡ª and many others'' ¡ª thoughts could travel down the road of their own weaknesses and failings, the distinct thudding sound of many feet filled the air. "Brace yourselves!" Ordered Centurion Atticious.


    Tucking himself behind his shield, Otromah braced his shoulder and leg onto the top and bottom of his shield. In a tide of flesh, the goblins popped into his vision from the obscuring dust, clambering up the sharp incline to meet them.


    To Otromah, they looked more like running dogs than creatures supposedly close to humans. Their skin was black like charred wood, their arms were longer than a human''s ¡ª almost reaching their knees ¡ª and their yellowed fangs glistened in the lantern light. However, what drew his attention more than all of that was most of them looked as if they had just come from fighting some animal.


    Long rents of half-scabbed-over flesh were in parallel rows over their chests and arms, disfiguring and, in some cases, maiming their bodies. Many of the wounds had broken open from whatever healing they had made and were dripping black blood onto the ground. A few had bandages partially covering the weeping wounds, but the wrappings were so dirty Otromah would be hesitant to wipe his ass with them, let alone use them as a bandage.


    The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.


    Unable to do more than note the oddity in the time he had, the creatures sprung forward like frogs from the base of the five-foot stone step. As they hung in the air, Otromah and his shield brothers shouted in their challenge in a wordless scream.


    A shout that continued as the legionaries pumped their shields out a moment before the goblin leaping at them landed. The action held more force than that which lay within their arms and chests, as every single legionary had stretched a strand of psy spread over the inside of their shield.


    Even over the pounding of hundreds of feet and thrumming throats, Otromah could hear the bones breaking under the strength of his shield bash. As fast as the front row of goblins came at them, they were being thrown back and into the ranks of their brethren, breaking up their lines.


    With the goblin''s charge floundering, the creatures could only advance in drips and drabs, making them easy targets. Every goblin within range of the legionaries'' arms had multiple blades slashed or stabbed at them for the next few moments. The ones who thought they were bright and stayed out of reach of the legionaries'' front line found themselves skewered by the long spears of those in the human backlines.


    Unable to retreat thanks to the press of bodies and incapable of advancing with enough coordination to pressure the legionaries into falling back, the goblins were easy targets to be hacked apart and stabbed through by psy-aided blows. All across the street, goblins were dropping by the dozen every second.


    But they didn''t seem to care and continued to press forward. The bodies quickly mounted, and still, the creatures pushed on, scampering up the corpse ramp like they were walking along an empty street.


    The advantage the legionaries had with the initial clash soon began to fade, and what was once a one-sided slaughter became a real fight as the creatures reached a level footing by standing upon their dead. As the seconds slowly thumped by, and the dust filling the air began to settle, Otromah and the others were greeted by the unending sight of more bodies rushing forward in wild abandon.


    Wherever these creatures came from, they were willing to take risks that would all but certainly lead to their deaths. They would leap at any opening, and if a legionary responded in time to counterattack or block, the goblin would latch onto anything to create an opening for one of their comrades.


    Whether it was ripping the gladius out of the hand of a legionary with its own body, grabbing onto the edge of the shield, or landing a blow on the humans'' upper torso, the goblins didn''t care. All they seemed to want was death, and that was precisely what they got and gave. While the goblins suffered far more losses, a steady stream of minds was disappearing from the century¡¯s union.


    The lucky ones disappeared after being knocked unconscious by a hard hit to the head, but they were in the minority. Most minds vanished after suffering through long seconds of pain and increasing weakness, where their life steadily bled out of them. By far, the fewest number disappearing from the union were those wounded severely enough to be forced out of the line to seek medical aid.


    Time passed, and mortals fought and died until Atticious''s voice thundered in Otromah''s head, "Century! Retreat one step on my command! Now!" Over the cries of the injured and shouts of the desperate, the thud of the unified step boomed. Small as the space was, it gave them more room to fight from the press of bodies, taking some of the pressure off, not that the fighting was slowed more than a beat of the heart.


    "Dratulk, Bapthi, you better fill that gap, or I''ll come down there and kill you myself! Harolok! Are you trying to skewer them or give them a nice scar for the ladies?! Fix your damn aim! Vinyops, where are you looking! Get your eyes back on your zone! That''s how you do it, Quintill! The rest of you sorry sacks of shit can take some lessons or two from him! Keep it up, boys! Make them pay in barrels of blood for every step!" Their centurion was releasing a constant stream of orders, reprimands, and praise as they fought.


    Nothing, big or small, seemed to escape his notice. But no matter how many mistakes he called out, that didn''t mean everyone could be saved. Harkona had a rock smashed into his head, knocking him unconscious. Even as someone in the back line grabbed his feet to pull him back, and another stepped into the gap, a goblin''s clawed hand was around his neck, ripping open the veins in his throat.


    And it wasn''t just him, as Harper was forced to fight off three goblins to his front at the exact moment those on his flanks had to take action to support those on their other side. The goblins didn''t hesitate to use the opening to fight three-on-one and leaped into action.


    One grabbed the shield and was able to pull it to the side ever so slightly. The second went low to knock Harper off his feet, only to be skewered on his gladius for the attempt. But all Harper could do for the third was throw his head forward, attempting to head butt the creature going over the shield.


    While he missed the head-on collision with the goblin, he twisted his body enough so that the creature''s jaw clamped down on his shoulder instead of his neck. Letting out a shout of pain and outrage, Harper pulled his sword pummel back, smashing it into the base of the neck of the goblin latched onto him.


    The creature immediately went limp and flopped to the ground, but it took with it a chunk of his flesh. Harper tried to slow the blood flow with his sword hand while keeping his shield up, but the bleeding was too much for him to stop as it seeped through his fingers, and Otromah''s friend''s mind was quickly fading from blood loss.


    Legionary after legionary fell, but for every human that died, they took ten of the goblins. It didn''t fill the aching hole in Otromah''s mind or soothe the prick of a new stake lodging itself into his heart, but it gave a certain grim satisfaction.


    It could not be denied that many would die this night. With that in mind, the more they could take with them in death, the less others would have to sacrifice. But it didn''t seem like they were making much of a difference at this point.


    Hundreds of dead filled the street. As the dust settled and twilight settled into full night, the planes once blocked by the outer wall were visible. Or it should have been visible through the thousands-of-feet gap in the collapsed wall before them. Where the grassy land should be, the jostling bodies of ranks upon ranks of an army stood.


    Otromah couldn''t tell exactly how many there were, but the number should be in the tens of thousands from his quick glance. Not that he would be able to give a better answer if he had more time to study the army.


    And that wasn''t because he lacked the training to make a proper count. It was because as the sun settled behind the horizon, a thick fog was rising from the ground, concealing everything it enveloped.


    The stray thoughts passing through his mind vanished as Otromah and his brothers fought on. They bashed the goblins with their shields before tilting them to the side, allowing one of the legionaries around them to lash out in the moment the opening in the shield wall was available.


    With the tug-of-war of a battle taking hold of the street, one section of the line drove forward as another section danced back. The fight was a small thing in comparison to the powers at play. A dance of death and life between two forces that had barely grazed the tips of their fingers together. And yet, for those involved, it was all-consuming.


    Otromah could not say how long they fought and could only faintly feel his body screaming from the exertion. Finally, after what felt like hours, Centurion Atticious roared, "Fall back to the next line! Hurry the fuck up! Do I look like I care about your exhaustion! Move! Now!"


    Cutting down the closest goblin, Otromah turned, hearing the distinctive hiss of a volley of arrows in flight passing inches from his head a moment before they began thwacking home into flesh. Screams of pain sounded behind them, but no one looked as they turned and ran to the next pile of stone rubble.


    Of the two hundred to hold the first line of defense, one hundred and thirty-three were moving to the second. The majority of the Sixty-seven casualties they suffered were left for dead among close to eight hundred goblins.


    Otromah would stack those numbers against any prime cohort in the Republic¡­ and yet it didn''t seem like it was enough. They would need a far better ratio if they would achieve victory and survive this hellish night that had just begun.

 B2 Chapter 92

    Limpalak clenched his spear between his hands and hugged it to his chest, his heart attempting to beat itself out of his torso and into his arms. Lining the wall to his back were twenty more militia, each cradling their own weapons. Some were lucky enough to have swords, but most only had a spear, and a not-so-small portion of those spears were nothing more than a length of sharpened wood.


    But it didn''t matter.


    Limpalak would expect many of them to pick up rocks to fight if they had to, and he counted himself among that number. He even had a satchel of fist-sized stones on his hip if needed. He didn''t know when he might need them or in what situation he would use them, but he had them nonetheless. Always gotta be prepared. I lived by that motto, and I''ll die by it, even if the bag is getting kinda heavy.


    "Be still," Limpalak said into their union. "A group is about to pass." A moment or two later, the muffled sound of dozens of feet slapping against the street echoed into their alley. Holding his breath and trying to push himself into the wall and become one with it, Limpalak watched distorted shadows move along the street.


    He waited for a second, then poked his head around the corner and saw that the street was empty as far as he could see through the thick fog. Typically, not seeing them would be a reassurance, but he was guessing that he was seeing a far too short distance of fifteen feet at best.


    Given how this cursed night was going, he was probably seeing less than ten feet¡­ Maybe? Shit, I can''t tell. Which just went to show how bad the fog was that he couldn''t put his sight to a distance. Really, by the time you saw or heard anyone, they were already on top of you. Never seen fog this thick in Southtown before. What is going on?


    Limpalak''s night, and he supposed everyone who remained in the city, was not going great. He had originally been stationed with the Sixth Cohort to defend the Eastern Docks of the Third Ring, but that didn''t last long. As the walls came down at sunset, the goblins boiled out of hidden tunnels, and the combined assault from within and without was too much.


    Their established perimeter fractured, and everyone was strewed in every direction. Limpalak believed the cohort had formed up around some warehouses in the heart of the district, but his attempts to reach them were quickly discarded.


    The task was basically impossible, as he would swear that rivers of goblins blocked his path to them at every turn. He wanted to regroup with the cohort, but he wouldn''t die pointlessly to do so.


    Given no other viable choice, Limpalak crept his way northwest across the city, heading toward the gate to the Second Ring. Along the way, he attacked goblins when he could, ran from the groups too large to fight, and ended up gathering and losing a few dozen people along the way. No one else had a better plan, and heading north was as good of a choice as any.


    Sadly, long before Limpalak and the others reached the gate placed into the outer second ring wall, they found a massive breach in the stone structure. What had happened to the wall was obvious, as the gigantic trench in the ground was hard to miss, even in the fog. On the bright side, the broken walls and ground provided plenty of cover for them to slip through the gap, even as the goblins used the trench themselves to move deeper into the city.


    A few blocks later, as they turned east, they ended up in the crafting section of the city and could hear the muffled screams and sounds of nearby fighting, though telling a direction was proving hard. He might not know where the battle was, but he was pretty sure he knew who did know. And how to get there.


    "We''re gonna move along the wall and follow them," Limpalak sent to those behind him.


    "Why not go the other way?" Whined Mathious, "For all we know, they be mov''an to gather with friends."


    "They probably are," Stated Limpalak. "But on their other side should be someone we could call a friend. I don''t know about you, but I''m bloody tired of running about, constantly nervous about what''s around the corner. Holding a barricade seems far better." His thoughts received appreciation from many, as their nerves were frayed after a few hours of moving through the dark and murky streets. Doing this for the rest of the night seemed like torture.


    "Are you stupid!?" Mathious shrieked mentally, as he was far too cowardly to let any noise pass his lips. "That is where you are planning to go? Can''t you see the city is lost? This isn''t the time to be playing a hero; this is the time to get out while the getting is good!"


    Turning to the gaunt, sickly man, Limpalak looked into his sunken eyes and said in a quiet hiss, "If that is how you feel, you are on your own. But I will not be a coward who flees his home when it is attacked. But if you feel the need to run, make damn sure I never find you, as it will be the last day of your pathetic life." The weak willed man shrunk back from the deadly serious tone in Limpalak''s voice, his eyes flicking to everything and nothing around them.


    Snorting in contempt and turning, Limpalak moved to the edge of the alley again before sending into the union, "Let''s go. Remember, stick to the walls."


    They had hardly moved a couple hundred feet down the road before Limpalak heard a rough human voice echoing down the street. "Form up, gents! ''Nother bands on our doorstep!"


    In response to the shouting, the creatures before them screeched in delight and rushed forward. The sound of their feet moved quickly away, but Limpalak didn''t move as he waited for a few seconds. It wasn''t until the ambient sounds of fighting picked up and the screams sounded that he finally gave the order, "Spread out."


    Following his own words, Limpalak moved to step from the comforting embrace of the wall, only pausing a moment with his foot hanging in the air before finishing his movement to move away from the storefront. This was not the first time he had led an attack on the rear of a goblin group, but every time he stepped forward to attack, the fear he felt gripping his heart wasn''t getting easier to handle.


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    So far, he had been able to push through it¡­ but wasn''t sure how long he would be able to keep it up. And Until the moment came when he couldn''t force himself to step away from a wall, he would keep pushing forward, acting in ways that would allow him to sleep at night.


    "Hurry up and get into position!" Limpalak ordered before waiting nervously, monitoring the others through the union, and suddenly, the beat of the distant drums filled the air. And he looked around, searching for the threat he felt hanging over his head. But no matter how hard he searched, he found nothing.


    It was only when he felt his thrown-together squad get into position that he was finally pulled out of his sudden surge of fear and got back on task. "Okay, advance." At the signal, the eighteen men and two women moved into a jog. It wasn''t as synchronized and crisp as the legionaries, but it was pretty good, considering most of those in the group left the legions three or more decades ago, and the rest still had a few more years before they had to sign up.


    The street was a minor one, putting it a little more than fifteen feet wide, but even with the small size, the mass of shadowy goblins that was moving before them looked massive. And by the hollow shouts of fear and desperation echoing from the defenders of the barricade, they agreed.


    No one spoke as they moved through the muggy cold air, and everyone timed to walk as softly as possible, though Mathious somehow seemed to find rocks to kick with every step. Despite their less-than-skilled movements, Limpalak and the others were able to make it just out of the reach of their spears from the rear line of the goblins.


    As was typical, the moment Limpalak started to think they could attack without anyone noticing, the defenders let out a collective groan of despair. At the sound, Limpalak could clearly see the movement of heads and torsos from both attackers and defenders as they turned to look at them, outlining themselves against the glow of the nearby lanterns.


    He could even see the faces of the closest goblins twisted into something that should be close to anticipation, though he couldn''t be sure. Before anyone could process the fact their shadowy forms were significantly bigger than a goblin should be, Limpalak issued the command they were all waiting for, "Charge!"


    Screams tore from the militias'' throats, and they lunged forward, covering the last of the distance with their spears lowered. Before the nearby goblins could properly turn and face him, Limpalak buried his spear tip into the side of one of the little bastards. It was a scene that was playing out nearly identically all along the street.


    In response to the sudden attack, and now that the light from the defender''s torches and lanterns illuminated them enough to show they were human, a cheer of elation mixed with wrath rose from the defenders. At that moment, the defenders became the attackers as they charged down from their defenses to smash into the trapped goblins. The creatures jerked one way and then the other as they were gripped tightly by fear and indecision at their circumstances, making it impossible for a coordinated response to appear.


    That was all fine and dandy for Limpalak, as it meant that it was easier to kill them. Pulling out his spear from one goblin''s lower back, he thrust it into the upper chest of another. And then a leg, and the guts, and an arm, and a half dozen other thrusts into bodies, until he stopped his next strike halfway through the motion and placed his spear butt onto the ground, leaning on the shaft.


    All around him, others were finishing off the whimpering and groaning goblins and tending to minor wounds. An old man well past his prime walked up to Limpalak, an old centurion helm on his head and bracers on his arms with a sheathed gladius on his hip, but more than the gear, what drew the attention would be the air of authority about him. "''Re you in command of this squad?" The man asked Limpalak.


    Nodding his head wearily, Limpalak gasped, ¡°Yeah¡­ I guess that would be me."


    The older man gave him a once-over before grunting and reaching out with his right arm. Mirroring the gesture, Limpalak tightly grasped the other man''s forearm despite how his hand wanted nothing more than to flop around like a limp rag. Giving a quick pump of the arm, the older man said, "Name''s Harkbor. And thanks for the assistance. I''m not sure we could have made it through that scuffle without your help."


    Looking at the defenses, which were a good seven feet tall, and how organized this group appeared, Limpalak scoffed in rejection of the statement. "I''m Limpalak. And you would have held your people together and fought them off just fine. I haven''t seen many groups like yours outside the legionaries."


    The old man nodded, accepting his words as truth, "Perhaps, but we would have suffered losses and not held the next wave. Where are you coming from, by the way? I thought all the groups south and west of us were pushed back an hour ago."


    Giving an exhausted sigh and looking up at the moon hanging in the middle of the stars, Limpalak couldn''t believe that it had only been a matter of hours since the fall of the outer wall. Running his bloody hand through his hair, he started speaking, "Yeah, I wasn''t stationed anywhere near here. I was initially guarding the flank of the Sixth Cohort''s Third Century as they defended one of the main streets leading to the Western Docks in the Third Ring. But whatever hit them smashed their lines, and it became a scramble. My barricade had goblins on both sides, and we had to charge our frontal attackers and fight through them before scattering. I tried reconnecting with the cohort but gave up when it became clear goblins were everywhere over there. Since then, I have been trying to move north, picking up the people I find and seeking to link up with anyone."


    "Well," Harkbor said, a smile spreading on his wrinkled face, "I''ll be happy for the reinforcements."


    Limpalak felt a surge of relief at his words, giving a relieved chuckle and nodding in acceptance. He didn''t want to be in command of anything¡­ but in the back of his mind, he wondered how long it would be before he would have to run again.


    "Get back on the barricade!" Harkbor shouted, drawing everyone''s attention, "We all know another band is coming!" Turning to follow the order, Limpalak froze as he felt the deaths of three of those in his union


    Stunned at the sudden deaths, it took him a moment to process the event ¡ª time in which another person died ¡ª before he turned and shouted, "Attack!" at the top of his lungs. Three figures wearing long black hooded cloaks were standing at the back of the humans, long curved swords in their hands.


    With graceful gestures filled with contempt, the figures gracefully swung their swords, and three more people dropped. Then, without warning, a flood of goblins burst out of the fog, letting out bloodthirsty screams filled with wild abandon.


    "Retreat! Get back to the barricade! Retre¡ª


    As the gruff voice abruptly cut off, Limpalak looked to the side, seeing Harkbor clutching a small shaft in his upper right chest, blood starting to dribble down his chin. Like Limpalak''s look was a signal, the old man collapsed to the side as another shaft hit his thigh, ripping it out from under him. Along with the collapsing man, the coordination of the defenders fell apart as it became everyone for themselves.


    In the face of this sudden attack, it was a death sentence to stand and fight. They needed to regroup, but it couldn''t be here. Limpalak forced his slow thoughts to move faster as he shuffled to the side, "We need to get to an alley! We need to¡­ Huh?" Looking down, Limpalak saw Mathious standing next to him, having planted a dagger into his stomach.


    "That''s what you get for your threats, bitc¡ª Gaugh! Ge'' aw'' ''om mah''!"


    Having grabbed hold of his wrist to keep Mathious in place, Limpalak pulled back the rock he drew from his satchel to break the traitor''s jaw along with his few remaining teeth for another hit. Bringing his arm back to smash in his skull, the smaller man had a sudden burst of strength. His arms thrust into Limpalak''s chest, causing him to take a step back and stumble over a body.


    As he fell, he could see and feel the deaths of those around him, but blissfully, it all stopped as he landed, the world going black with a spike of pain in his head.