"Some examples of such smaller nations were Boroes, a nation established by therians who had migrated from the southern continent of Ur-Teros centuries ago. Despite being sandwiched between the mighty Clangeddin Empire and the domains of the elves, they remained in existence because they served as a buffer between the two large nations.
That, and neither nation was keen to fight a nation full of therians - well known for their ability to fight - over some not-so-desirable land to begin with." - Excerpt from "History of the Nations of Alcidea" by Owain Fiachna, Scholar and Historian, circa 565 VA.
By sunset, the defenders had abandoned the badly breached third defense lines, and retreated to the fourth. Their second to last line of makeshift fortification, not counting the underground warrens. The zealots had paid the price as well, though, as Salicia caught the earth mage when he breached the third line for the fourth time, and successfully put an arrow through his face.
By now maybe half of the defenders remained fighting, the rest either dead, or too heavily injured to fight more. They took their toll in blood, though, as evidenced by the blanket of zealot corpses that covered the ground they abandoned.
As darkness began to fall, the zealots had not backed off and called an end to the day's hostilities as they usually did. Instead, the priests - there were three of them Reinhardt could see, as the dwarven marksmen had gotten one earlier in the day with a lucky shot - further exhorted the mob.
Their magically amplified voice preached their gospel, that those who sacrificed their lives in the God-King's service would be granted a hallowed afterlife. They even raised their decorated staffs high and made the light shine from it to illuminate the battlefield, both theatrics to boost morale, and to allow the zealots to fight better in the darkening battlefield.
It also made them very enticing targets, but several zealots kept up a shield wall in front of the priests at all times, covering them from the incoming bolts and arrows.
That had mostly worked, at least until they advanced a bit too close and thus entered Salicia's range.
Salicia was an excellent archer, but that was not what earned her the reputation she had, that of an excellent assassin whose arrows always claimed their due. She was also a space mage, one with poor mana capacity, yet with skills honed so finely that the little bit of mana she has becomes positively lethal in her hands.
The moment the three remaining priests all entered her range, the one-eyed archer nocked one of her javelin-sized arrows and drew her bow to its full extension. To most, it would look like she had aimed her arrow to nowhere relevant to the battle.
Yet when she loosed, a small spatial portal formed directly in front of her arrow. It was a tiny thing, barely large enough to allow the arrow through with its fletchings included. Her arrow went right into the portal smoothly, and exited from its paired destination.
Above and behind one of the priests who busily exhorted the zealots.
Unerringly, the arrow struck said priest right at the back of his neck, where the skull met the neck, and punched through the hard bones to protrude back out from the man's throat, just under his chin. The priest was dead before his body collapsed.
Before shieldbearers in front of the dead priest managed to even registered their ward's demise, before the cries of anguish and dismay sounded from the zealots behind the priest who saw the whole thing, Salicia had adjusted her aim, drawn, and loosed two more arrows.
Instantly the battlefield plunged into darkness, as the other two priests also fell victim to her arrows. A few quick-thinking zealots tried to use their own meager gifts of magic to illuminate the field, but all that earned them were bolts and arrows as they made themselves obvious targets.
The deaths of the priests seemed to make some of the zealots waver. Unfortunately, those were in the minority. Most went into a rage instead and charged with even more reckless abandon than what they already displayed.
Reinhardt was fighting hard on the southern side of the fortifications when a deafening explosion took place not too far to his left. He turned to see Grünhildr's muscular form thrown like a wet rag by said explosion, landing hard on her back some distance away.
The bulky woman stirred, and tried to get up, which allowed Reinhardt a sigh of relief as he ran towards her. Where the wall she was defending used to be, was now a large breach. Several of his people lay dead or dying near there, as the zealots rushed through the breach and eagerly finished the job they started.
As he helped Grünhildr up - which the injured woman managed with difficulty - he realized what must have happened. The zealots must have used what flasks of the explosive brew they had on the other side of the wall, the resulting explosion turned the wall into a storm of shrapnel, which peppered the mercenaries on the other side.
Grünhildr had been close to the wall when it happened, and had reacted quickly enough to shield her head with her arms, both of which were riddled with injury. Others near her had not been as lucky. A few others close enough to the wall to be hurled by the explosion either died instantly, or were dying as they lay crumpled after the hard landing.
"We're retreating to the last line," Reinhardt said curtly to the injured woman. All around, he could see the surviving dwarves and mercenaries pulling a fighting retreat already. The massive breach basically spelled the end of the fourth line's usefulness. "Can you get back by yourself?"
"I'll *cough* live," stated the burly woman as she coughed up some blood. The explosion must have injured her internal organs, though at least she survived. Reinhardt watched for a moment as she walked back with a slight limp to her gait.
"Get yourself to the healers first thing," he said to her before he turned back to coordinate the retreat. "If we have to fight in the warrens, you being able to pull your weight will be a boon."
Those words said, Reinhardt charged back to the front, as he hammered down a zealot who was just about to strike at Nicole while she was busy with another one. He saw Mischka lead her group to a steady retreat to his right, and Elfriede a distance to his left, anchoring the other end of their formation.
He took the center and rallied the rest to him, as they fought and covered the retreat as best they could.
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"Some examples of such smaller nations were Boroes, a nation established by therians who had migrated from the southern continent of Ur-Teros centuries ago. Despite being sandwiched between the mighty Clangeddin Empire and the domains of the elves, they remained in existence because they served as a buffer between the two large nations.
That, and neither nation was keen to fight a nation full of therians - well known for their ability to fight - over some not-so-desirable land to begin with." - Excerpt from "History of the Nations of Alcidea" by Owain Fiachna, Scholar and Historian, circa 565 VA.
By sunset, the defenders had abandoned the badly breached third defense lines, and retreated to the fourth. Their second to last line of makeshift fortification, not counting the underground warrens. The zealots had paid the price as well, though, as Salicia caught the earth mage when he breached the third line for the fourth time, and successfully put an arrow through his face.
By now maybe half of the defenders remained fighting, the rest either dead, or too heavily injured to fight more. They took their toll in blood, though, as evidenced by the blanket of zealot corpses that covered the ground they abandoned.
As darkness began to fall, the zealots had not backed off and called an end to the day's hostilities as they usually did. Instead, the priests - there were three of them Reinhardt could see, as the dwarven marksmen had gotten one earlier in the day with a lucky shot - further exhorted the mob.
Their magically amplified voice preached their gospel, that those who sacrificed their lives in the God-King's service would be granted a hallowed afterlife. They even raised their decorated staffs high and made the light shine from it to illuminate the battlefield, both theatrics to boost morale, and to allow the zealots to fight better in the darkening battlefield.
It also made them very enticing targets, but several zealots kept up a shield wall in front of the priests at all times, covering them from the incoming bolts and arrows.
That had mostly worked, at least until they advanced a bit too close and thus entered Salicia's range.
Salicia was an excellent archer, but that was not what earned her the reputation she had, that of an excellent assassin whose arrows always claimed their due. She was also a space mage, one with poor mana capacity, yet with skills honed so finely that the little bit of mana she has becomes positively lethal in her hands.
The moment the three remaining priests all entered her range, the one-eyed archer nocked one of her javelin-sized arrows and drew her bow to its full extension. To most, it would look like she had aimed her arrow to nowhere relevant to the battle.
Yet when she loosed, a small spatial portal formed directly in front of her arrow. It was a tiny thing, barely large enough to allow the arrow through with its fletchings included. Her arrow went right into the portal smoothly, and exited from its paired destination.
Above and behind one of the priests who busily exhorted the zealots.
Unerringly, the arrow struck said priest right at the back of his neck, where the skull met the neck, and punched through the hard bones to protrude back out from the man's throat, just under his chin. The priest was dead before his body collapsed.
Before shieldbearers in front of the dead priest managed to even registered their ward's demise, before the cries of anguish and dismay sounded from the zealots behind the priest who saw the whole thing, Salicia had adjusted her aim, drawn, and loosed two more arrows.
Instantly the battlefield plunged into darkness, as the other two priests also fell victim to her arrows. A few quick-thinking zealots tried to use their own meager gifts of magic to illuminate the field, but all that earned them were bolts and arrows as they made themselves obvious targets.
The deaths of the priests seemed to make some of the zealots waver. Unfortunately, those were in the minority. Most went into a rage instead and charged with even more reckless abandon than what they already displayed.
Reinhardt was fighting hard on the southern side of the fortifications when a deafening explosion took place not too far to his left. He turned to see Grünhildr's muscular form thrown like a wet rag by said explosion, landing hard on her back some distance away.
The bulky woman stirred, and tried to get up, which allowed Reinhardt a sigh of relief as he ran towards her. Where the wall she was defending used to be, was now a large breach. Several of his people lay dead or dying near there, as the zealots rushed through the breach and eagerly finished the job they started.
As he helped Grünhildr up - which the injured woman managed with difficulty - he realized what must have happened. The zealots must have used what flasks of the explosive brew they had on the other side of the wall, the resulting explosion turned the wall into a storm of shrapnel, which peppered the mercenaries on the other side.
Grünhildr had been close to the wall when it happened, and had reacted quickly enough to shield her head with her arms, both of which were riddled with injury. Others near her had not been as lucky. A few others close enough to the wall to be hurled by the explosion either died instantly, or were dying as they lay crumpled after the hard landing.
"We're retreating to the last line," Reinhardt said curtly to the injured woman. All around, he could see the surviving dwarves and mercenaries pulling a fighting retreat already. The massive breach basically spelled the end of the fourth line's usefulness. "Can you get back by yourself?"
"I'll *cough* live," stated the burly woman as she coughed up some blood. The explosion must have injured her internal organs, though at least she survived. Reinhardt watched for a moment as she walked back with a slight limp to her gait.
"Get yourself to the healers first thing," he said to her before he turned back to coordinate the retreat. "If we have to fight in the warrens, you being able to pull your weight will be a boon."
Those words said, Reinhardt charged back to the front, as he hammered down a zealot who was just about to strike at Nicole while she was busy with another one. He saw Mischka lead her group to a steady retreat to his right, and Elfriede a distance to his left, anchoring the other end of their formation.
He took the center and rallied the rest to him, as they fought and covered the retreat as best they could.
Avitue If you enjoy this story, please consider leaving a rating or review to help it gain more exposure, thank you! Or help support the author by leaving a tip!
Read ahead on my Patreon! For 5$ a month patrons will gain early access of up to 10 chapters ahead, or for 10$ a month, gain early access of up to 25 chapters ahead!
Or you can subscribe to all my stories and get a 10% discount on the price!
For every 15 cumulative new patrons in the Free Mage/Free Archmage/Magus/Archmagus tier I get in a month, from the next month onwards the respective patreon tiers will receive +5/+10 chapters permanently, until we reach my usual 25/55 chapters ahead!
Join the Discord for silly stuff and chat with us!
