It was time. Martin sank beneath the waves on the west side of the city, out beyond the harbor. Devon was on the east side, readying to defend from underwater attacks. The feelings from the Core had changed for the last few days. Instead of a vague anticipation, he had gotten more and more precise feelings of the time approaching. Until this morning, when he felt nothing. Like the receding waters before a tidal wave, the sense of the horde had cut out. Adam had poured over enough reference material to know what that meant. Messages were sent, and everyone was in place. Now it was down to Martin for the final defenses.

  He let the water cushion his body as he sent his mind back towards the Core. Over a year of work from both Laurel and himself meant the ambient mana was smooth and mostly predictable. With the Core as a focus, Martin reached out to the flows. Ever so gently, he nudged the mana into his first pillar. The enchantments came to life as mana infused into the stone. Glowing golden symbols lit up the murky depths of the sea floor. When every rune was infused, instead of letting the mana go, he pulled it towards the next pillar, keeping mana pumping through the first all the while. The second pillar took slightly less time to infuse. On to the third. Faster and faster, mana powered the enchantments at Martin’s urging. At the same time, he had to keep the flow through the entire network steady.

  Again and Again.

  His consciousness rounded the northernmost point of the city, below the royal palace. He felt Devon as a complex web of mana, with the fine channels of a master tidal cultivator. The transition to land was shaky. He almost lost hold of his original mana flow as he forced his mind onto the cliffs. Past the defenders, with a few pinpricks of mana highlighting the cultivators, far less complex but still noticeable against the backdrop of mortals. Then he plunged back into the harbor. The speed had increased the entire time, and the mana circuit was completed with the force of elephant stampede.

  Martin wrenched his consciousness back into his body, no longer forced to control it all. Limbs shaking, he was privately pleased he was already underwater and no one could see him. By the end, that was more power than he had ever channeled before. He grinned. When they had time to truly work to the city’s defense, nothing on this world would break through.

  Drifting on the gentle tide, he watched the ward take shape. The kids’ spiritual senses would feel something happening, but wouldn’t be able to tell exactly what. With an extra century of experience, Martin could watch as though with regular sight as a golden net formed between the pillars. The amount of mana would burn the enchantments out in two days. Maybe faster if the horde was larger than expected. But for those two days, the majority of the beasts would be pushed away, back out into the ocean or plains. A few would survive to become spirit beasts. The rest would eventually dissipate, as the mana surge passed. Until then, it was time to fight. Any of the larger beasts that got through were for him and Devon to defeat. With a stroke of inspiration, Martin pulled another pillar up from the sea bed, this one not part of the ward. Devon might not show it, but he was wickedly competitive. Martin would have to keep count on how many of the beasts he destroyed to rub in the other man’s face when it was all over.

  **********

  George stood on top of the temporary fortifications the army spent the last fortnight building, looking out over the countryside surrounding the city. The soldiers had been busy. Without the time to build a full wall, they had substituted a series of trenches and fortifications centered around the warding pillars. The result was a maze of death. Anything that made it past the forward ranks, the pit traps, spikes, and caltrops would be met with a rain of hot lead from the men and women manning the fortifications. It was a mix of unruffled veterans and raw recruits absolutely shaking in their boots, courtesy of Fort Sarken’s status as the main army training ground. The mood would have been dark if not for the mercenaries. Hired to assist the army, the battle-hardened men and women were tossing jokes around and taking bets on who would kill the most monsters. The camaraderie reminded him of the other magehunters, before things had gone to shit.

  “Oi, wizard-man!”

  Terrible nicknames and all. They motioned him over to the pillar they were set around. Closer, he could see the runes turning gold, one after the other. There was a bright flash when the final rune activated, the light then receding to a barely detectable glow. The pillar was spewing mana in his spiritual senses. A quick burst of his own mana sent to his eyes showed him they were all activating, one after the other.

  “Listen up!” he shouted to the station. “It’s starting soon! Be ready.”

  He hopped back down and jogged over to his station to do one last check. Both pistols were on his belt, loaded with bullets he had tried to infuse with mana. He wasn’t used to doing it, and a few of them had blown up in his face while he tried to figure out the right technique. Other people had handled the equipment enhancements for him when he was in the Empire. But those would be a backup today. His main weapon would be the rifle in front of him. On loan from the army, he had been told in no uncertain terms that they expected it back in pristine condition. The novel loading mechanism made it faster, the precision craftsmanship increased accuracy. Combined with his own talents, he was there to focus on the particularly strong or threatening beasts.

  The platform beneath his feet began to vibrate. George looked out toward the horizon. A dark mass spread across the entire peninsula. The horde was here.

  *********

  Cooper watched in helpless horror as the tide of monsters crashed into the defenders. He couldn’t even make out the individual monsters. It was a wall of fur, claws and fangs, descending to rip them apart. Baying and howls echoed across the low hills. Cooper had to consciously relax the grip on his rifle. Guiltily looking around, he saw the younger soldiers all looked nervous, but took cues from the officers and veterans. He reminded himself that killing anything wasn’t his job. He wasn’t strong enough yet to kill monsters with a wave of his hand like Martin. Instead he and the other initiates in the sect were acting as spotters. They would pick out the strongest monsters, and take them out or direct the soldiers towards them.

  The wall of flesh slammed into the defensive works. Blood filled the air as pit traps and spikes did their grisly work. A red mist floated over the maze of trenches, scenting the air with death and gunpowder. He couldn’t take it. His stomach heaved and he vomited over the side of the platform. Painful contractions continued until there was nothing left, and Cooper became aware of a hand patting his back.

  “There there lad, get it all out.”

  Cooper stood back up and turned to see the gray-bearded sergeant in command of their small unit.

  “Happens to the best of us. Take a few breaths and back to it eh?”

  He gave a shaky nod and walked back to his position. The leading monsters were getting close enough for his senses to be useful. A pack of five got close enough for him to pick out details. They were like a cross between a rabbit and a hyena, barreling forward with reckless abandon.

  “Strongest is second from the left,” he called out. They had already seen him vomit, but at least his voice wasn’t shaking.

  “Williams, fire on my mark. Ready….mark!”

  The crack of a rifle rang out from where the sharpshooter was above the rest of them, with uninterrupted sightlines. The beast staggered, blood welling from the wound on its chest, but it kept going. That is, until another shot slammed home in the same area. The rest of the pack was easily dispatched after that. They had a breather before the next grouping. And the one after that. For now they were holding steady. But Cooper looked out to the horizon. There was no end to the monsters. Every one they cut down was replaced with two more.The defenders, on the other hand, were very finite. Planes were flying overhead and firing down into the mass of bodies, but if they had much of an impact, Cooper couldn’t see it. Martin had told them the wave would last for days, and he just hoped they could last.

  **********

  Eric could hear gunshots from his place within Fort Sarken, but they were mostly drowned out by shouted orders and running feet as the soldiers moved like a well-oiled machine. He felt like a fraud. He could have been out there like the others, but he had decided on working with the doctors instead. He forced himself to run through the reasoning one more time. He didn’t know how to shoot a gun the right way. He wasn’t that good at fighting with any of the weapons Martin tried to teach them. Growing up, he had gotten into some scraps to protect his brother, but it was not his best talent. He was trying to become a healer, and had reached the point to be able to help on some wounds, and to infuse the medicine with mana to keep out infections and keep people alive.

  So he sat, and listened, and waited for the wounded to flood in.

  ********

  The thunder of gunshots was a constant background noise for George. He had long since stopped cycling any mana to his ears to avoid permanent damage. His eyes weren’t so lucky, as he continued to take out the most dangerous of the monsters. The result felt like he’d rubbed sand directly onto his face. On rare occasions in the past he had been forced into this kind of focus, and so he had a store of drops he could put in his eyes periodically, picked up from a local apothecary. He was already half way through the bottle. This was unlike any battle he’d seen before. The monsters just kept coming.

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The mundane soldiers were also a surprise. The secrecy of the magehunters kept him mostly apart from anyone else. If anything, soldiers in Laskar were more likely to distrust anyone with a whisper of magic. Here, the soldiers were happy to have him, cheering every time he took down the larger monsters. A shout had him glancing backwards. One of the runners had been cornered. George swore in three languages. Those runners were the real heroes of the day. They could only stockpile so many supplies at each station. The fast soldiers were relaying ammunition and orders around the battlefield. The angle was wrong, the soldier too close to the monsters to risk a shot from this distance. And they needed those supplies. The horde hadn’t slowed at all, and they were running low on bullets. Already, George had been told to start leaving some of the weaker monsters to get deeper into the defenses.

  There wasn’t time to come up with a plan. The woman was dodging back and forth, but the pack of monsters was driving her into a trap. Before he realized what he was doing, George had leapt off the platform. Hitting the ground with a roll, he sprinted towards the soldier. His pistols found his hands with no real thought. The weapons practically thrummed. He’d been through years and dozens, no, hundreds of fights with these guns and they had never let him down. He sent thoughts of ‘just one more’ out into the world and down into the guns.

  Five beasts, twelve bullets. There wouldn’t be time to reload. His path arced around so the young woman he was running towards wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire. He swore again, she was practically a child, but anyone willing and able to help had been recruited in the city’s defense. His left hand came up and two shots went off. Both struck home. One in the flank of the closest monster, and another through the eye of another. The first changed course and launched itself towards him. He ducked under its leap, jumped the fallen one and stormed further into the rest of the pack. Three more shots. Two hit home but the last missed as the beast changed course in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

  Mana pumped through his body, every sense pushed to the absolute maximum. He suppressed a gag at the sweat and blood in the air. George threw himself to the side as the first jumped at his back. Two more shots brought it down. But not before its hind claw left a scratch across his thigh. Not major enough to go to the fort, but he’d be limping back to his post. It would be fine as long as he could stop the bleeding. And it was far from the worst injury he’d seen today. Plenty of people had been carted off the battlefield, and others had been left where they had fallen.

  With two monsters down and the way clear, the soldier didn’t waste any time. She was sprinting away, with a quick salute tossed to George. The monsters had scattered towards other defenders, and he took advantage of the lull to get back in position. A rag tied around his leg was the best they could do. The sergeant in charge of the station was ranting at him for abandoning his post without warning, but George was barely listening. Despite it all, he felt good. He had saved that girl. It was a far cry from destroying lives like he had in his last job. A warmth settled in his chest. Despite the grime and the blood, he went back to his rifle with a smile on his face.

  *********

  Shouts and screams replaced the music and laughter that were the usual sounds of a Verilian spring night. Sabrina of the Indell Coven jogged slowly through the city slums. The wealthier citizens were holed up in their mansions in the higher districts. Strong walls and private guards would protect them. But the Flats were getting any of the monsters that made it past the army. Most would angle towards the Eternal Archive building, sensing the Core’s anchor, and spend their mana fruitlessly against those impregnable walls. But plenty were savaging their way through the poorer areas of the city.

  She rounded a corner and came to a scene she was becoming all too familiar with. A monster had cornered a young man in an alley. He was holding a discarded chair leg in an attempt to keep the animal back. But she could see his hands shaking and the sweat dripping from his brow. The beast’s haunches tensed in preparation to leap. Sabrina didn’t let it get that far. In an instant, she had conjured and launched a spear of ice. It pierced entirely through the monster’s body, and embedded into the wall opposite. The grotesque version of a fanged field-rabbit thrashed a few times before slumping down and going still.

  “Get inside,” she barked at the boy, who was staring with his mouth agape. He jumped and ran off, and Sabrina went back to patrolling. Another dozen of the same kind of encounters and she felt herself reaching exhaustion. The longest day of her life was coming to an end, but the invasion was still going strong. Sabrina stumbled back into their humble guildhall. A magic-user named Maurice, from one of the country villages, was sitting in the front, meditating. His eyes opened when she walked in and without a word, he strode out of the shop. Sabrina threw the latch and then went to the back where a small bedroom was set up. She collapsed fully clothed. As she drifted off she thought of Martin and Devon defending most of the city without rest, and the unfortunate fact she would be doing the same tomorrow.

  *******

  “Wasn’t part of the reason we joined this madhouse in the first place so we wouldn’t be powerless anymore?” Adam was pacing back and forth across his office. Annette was sitting ramrod straight in one of the armchairs, sipping tea with absolute precision. They had spent the day in the rotunda with the members of the sect still at the novice level, along with the staff. But when night had fallen and there was nothing else to see, everyone had dispersed for bed. Or in their case, for rants in the privacy of their own office.

  “It was, and we aren’t powerless. Our duty at the moment is to keep everyone here calm, and ready to handle the aftermath,” Annette said.

  Adam snorted and threw himself into his chair. He produced a flask and took a swig of the contents. He raised an eyebrow and gestured with it towards Annette’s tea. She gratefully held out her cup and accepted a splash of spirits.

  “That’s what they tell people who have to stay back to keep them from causing trouble. We’ve been cultivating longer than anyone else in the sect. But somehow we’re the fools who are sitting back and doing nothing while we send the kids out to fight. Makes you wonder if Laurel just recruited us to do her busywork.”

  “You don’t believe that,” Annette countered sharply. “We’ve been treated well here and Laurel has been entirely honest. Martin as well, even if he avoids paperwork. This is our own fault.” Adam didn’t answer but Annette took that as a tacit agreement. The man wasn’t one to avoid an argument. “We’ve been complacent, falling into our usual niche instead of pushing ourselves.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been working my ass off for this sect. Complacent?”

  “That’s the thing. It’s been in the back of my mind since the guild was established, and this whole experience highlights it. And some pointed words from my mother. Laurel gave you the library of your dreams to be in charge of. She gave me the chance to run a whole new organization, to climb the social ladder my way. And we grabbed those opportunities with both hands. But we only did that. Tell me when was the last time you cultivated with intent after we opened our meridians.”

  “I don’t know, a few weeks, maybe a month?”

  “The kids out there have been practicing every day, pushing themselves.”

  “And? We can hardly stop the responsibilities we already have.”

  “No, we can’t. But this is going to keep happening every few years. So unless you want to be stuck inside with the weakest members of the sect every time, we’re going to have to put in the work. I’m recruiting an assistant or two after this whole debacle. And you are as well, that’s non-negotiable.”

  They lapsed into silence. The sounds of the battlefield were barely audible as they both sipped the whiskey. Eventually they went off to bed, the second day of the ordeal expected to be just as harrowing, if not more so, than the first.

  *******

  Martin sped through the ocean with savage glee on his face. If these enemies had the ability to read expressions they would be running the opposite way instead of invading his city. A mutated octopus appeared out of the gloom. Without slowing down he bowled directly into the monster. It tried to immobilize his limbs with the tentacles and bring his body towards its beak. It failed. He gripped two tentacles near the base and ripped the beast in half. His laugh was lost in the waves. A quick flick of willpower and another tally was carved into his third counting pillar, while the beast core came close enough to get sent into his storage tattoo. Another thread of mana slingshotted him back the way he came, where he felt a strong presence pierce through the ward.

  The new monster was some sort of shark. There wasn’t much time to consider the details as he brought his battleax out, suppressed the natural friction that would slow his strike down, and cleaved it in half.

  He hadn’t had this much fun in ages. No politics, no weirdly specific types of paper he needed to be aware of, no doing favors for random mortals. Just a good, old-fashioned melee. Three monsters broke through at once towards the northern tip of the city. He used spikes of ice to kill two and grappled the last onto the seafloor. A spike of earth finished it off.

  For a moment everything was still. The light had long since faded but Martin didn’t need it to see in the depths. Beyond the ward entire schools of the mana beasts were being turned back. He swam to the nearest anchor pillar. Cracks were visible starting at the top and working their way halfway down. Sending his senses into the Core, there was a feeling of an end approaching. Another day, maybe a day and a half. They would have to hold. No more time to rest, the wards were breached again and he was back into the fray.

  *********

  General Mansfeln hadn’t slept a wink that night, and was ready when dawn revealed the devastation of the previous day.

  The area outside the city was usually kept empty for defensive purposes. The occasional farm or singular cabin broke up the vista, but it was a refuge of nature and peace in contrast with the hustle and bustle of the city. That peace had been shattered. Replaced instead with a maze of trenches filled with rotting flesh. Most of it from the invading monsters, but far too many of his soldiers had fallen in the last day. The unending, untiring nature of the enemy had worn them down. Moans of the fallen replaced the normal birdsong behind him. Half of the main drill grounds was a triage station for the injured. White tents housed those that were mostly stable. It was those close to death the doctors were operating on in the normal infirmary. Consultations with the cultivators said they needed to last two days. They were half way done.

  “Report! How are supplies? What are our casualties looking like? Have we been able to get the reinforcements cycled through?” There was no time to stand around, he had a job to do. And that was to make it through today with his army intact and the people safe.

  **********

  The second evening approached and George could barely aim his rifle. His eyes were gritty, his hands were shaking. Each shot was a triumph of willpower.

  “One more, one more.” He chanted the mantra to force himself onwards.

  The scene with the messenger had repeated itself another four times. He had done his best to save them all. Failure sat in the pit of his stomach when he recalled that the next to last one had not made it out. A stray claw to the neck was enough to snuff out an entire life. The body was still there. Sparing people to tow it away was impossible when the beasts continued to come.

  Sunset changed the light, making it hard to spot the worst of the beasts. If yesterday was anything to go on, they would set bonfires alight to give the mundane soldiers light to aim by. “One more. One more.” Sighting down the barrel, George dragged the dregs of his magic and forced it into his eyes and hands, gently squeezing the trigger. The monster went down. No time to wonder why it was easier than the others, he sought out the next one. He pulled the trigger. A click but no shot. He reached for the catch but his hands were shaking so badly the gun fell onto the platform. Nothing went off, thankfully. George knelt on the raw wood planks to pick it up but fumbled and dropped it again.

  “There lad, calm a moment.” It took seconds before George realized the officer was talking to him. The older woman picked his rifle up and pulled George back to standing by his arm. “It’s over. Look, it's over.”

  George tried to follow her instructions. He looked across the landscape but he couldn’t quite understand what he was seeing. All he saw was bodies. He tried reaching for the gun but the officer gently pulled it back.

  “Look again lad.”

  Following instructions he looked. Monsters mixed with soldiers. Dirt and grass churned into bloody mud. Then he looked to the horizon. He could see it. And the ground. The horde had broken. There were still plenty of the mana beasts around but there were no more coming. George sagged against the railing. He swiped at his eyes but they were too dry for tears. There was still work to do, but it was done.