They were underground, and Rosa was standing on the small brick ledge with her head up to the grate, peering through it.
“How fast are they moving?” Finn whispered.
“Slow march,” she replied.
Finn nodded. “Good. Then go. You know what to do.”
Rosa shot him a dazzling, reckless smile before leaping to the brackish water on the tunnel’s floor and sprinting off. She turned a corner and disappeared, save for the echo of her boots on wet stone.
Finn turned to Mico Sud, the shorter woman with the dress of flowing multi-color fabric and the sort of grin that was at best described as mischievous, at worse downright cunning. Her hair was brown and fell in curls that constantly shifted like water.
“I am fully aware of our part in your plan, Finn Callahan, but the energy needed for it is large. It will take everyone I have here, and I don’t know how long it will take to work,” she said.
Finn grunted softly.
It was the best idea he had. The only idea that might work against an entire army of trolls, zephyrs, and troll-ogres.
“All we can do is give it our best shot. That’s all I ask,” he said. He turned to leave but then looked back and offered a small, reassuring smile. “But I believe in you. I think you can pull it off.”
Mico, the Water Premier, merely cackled. “I don’t need your belief, Fire, but I do need you to get the hell out of my way so we can get started!”
“Oh, right, of course.” Finn felt a little stunned but found himself moving off into a jog as he ran for his exit to the street above. Finn knew he had to be at least five ascension levels ahead of Mico Sud, but somehow, she had a confidence that made everyone around her feel like a child.
That’s not important right now. He shook his head to concentrate on what was in front of him—namely, a rusty iron ladder leading from the tunnels up to the main thoroughfare. The gate above his head clanged, and the Knight-Defender—Founder of Blackwood—was immediately met with a wave of hot, ashy air. Compared to the cool, damp darkness of Malvas’s undercity, it was an assault on his senses.
That was not as alarming, however, as the deep booming of the trollish war drums.
“FLESHIES! SCUM! KNEEL BEFORE DURZOG!”
The impassioned roar sounded like thunder itself speaking. Finn scrambled up the ladder and turned to look up the main thoroughfare to see a tide of black armor, crooked blades atop poles, tattered red-and-black banners, and a sea of gray-and-green bodies.
The horde of War-Chief Durzog had taken the main gate after they flew an airship straight into it. The fires were out now, but smoke still rose from behind them as the horde marched forward to the banging of drums and the cries of savage victory.
At the forefront of the horde were the creatures that Finn feared the most for this battle: the ogres. Each one was easily three times his height and wore an armored platform on their backs with a trio of trolls, one holding long chains to the metal collars about their ‘steed’s’ necks. Each ogre was bipedal, but they were so hunched that one fist could steady themselves against the ground while the other clutched tree-trunk clubs, dragging along the ground or held close to their body as they stomped forward.
Finn counted at least five of them. They were probably what took out the last of the ruined gate and were smashing the buildings as they went. Right behind them, however, was a wall of steel as the rest of the horde followed.
Finn could now see that there were more than just random pennants. He saw one flag with a light orange, two-tailed, snake tongue shape, and then another, further back.
Units? Commanders? Different fighting companies, perhaps.
There was movement on the rooftops as well as the winged zephyrs advanced, leaping from one flat roof to the next in a wave above as the horde moved below.
“Commander?!” There was a shout from behind him, and Finn looked to see the barricade erected by Diane and the defenders. Every conceivable item had been brought out from the houses and streets—carts, barrels, tables, chairs, all moveable rubble—to form a hasty wall across the street where it started to rise toward the old city proper. Finn could see the triple line of Malvas defenders with their long spears. In the middle was Diane, standing atop the wall and waving the flag of Malvas—a gray circle.
Finn raised his hand and let a small fire spark launch into the sky. It was his signal. Everything was set. He knew that Rosa would see his message and launch into action, as would Tobias.
“And I guess all I have to do is to pick a fight,” he muttered to himself as he turned back to the horde, raising his other arm. The Pyrrhic Blade, the Treasure of the Fire Lodge, flickered into existence with a burst of fire.
Finn stood in the center of the street and leveled the blade straight at the troll-ogres coming toward him.
“Halt! Malvas is a free city and is under my protection, the Knight-Defender of Blackwood, Troll-slayer, Beast-killer, and Premier Martial of the Celestial Fire Lodge!” Finn shouted as loud as he could. His voice echoed against the buildings around him. “You are illegally entering the city and must leave. If you do not, each and every invader will be destroyed!”
There was a moment of silence from the horde, which had slowed to a halt at the end of the street.
Then, there was the rising sound of fists against metal and boots on the ground. The sound was soon joined by shouting, jeering voices.
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“Well, I guess that means you’re not going to leave, then,” Finn muttered as the noise reached a crescendo, then started to die down as a figure pushed their way to the front, walking slowly and steadily to the side of the ogres.
It was perhaps one of the biggest trolls that Finn had ever seen. His helmet—or his actual head, Finn couldn’t tell from there—had two curving horns that came down and pointed forward from the sides of his head. He wore part black-iron armor and chainmail, and he moved casually as he patted the flank of the one of the troll-ogres. He tilted his head as he looked at Finn.
That’s War Chief Durzog, if I had to make a guess, Finn thought.
The troll was large and strong, but he did not have any weapons in hand. The way he moved was almost nonchalant, like there was nothing for him to fear. The giant creature did not posture; he did not puff his chest or snarl.
And that worried Finn. Either the War Chief was a very cool customer and hid his feelings well, or he really wasn’t scared of anything.
Finn narrowed his eyes and tried to concentrate.
Scan. You have observed the Troll Warrior.
Damn, Finn thought, knowing that a Scan would tell you the level of the creature you were examining, but only if they were a lower ascension level than you were. Certain protective magics or enchantments could hide it as well.
This meant that either Durzog was clever about his magical abilities, or he was more ascended than Finn. Higher than Level 30 would be a problem… An acolyte? Someone on the path to full ascension started at Level 40, from what he knew, and that would be a very bad thing, indeed.
Finn watched as Durzog appeared to confer with the lead rider of the ogre before looking back at Finn and pausing. The War Chief raised one hand, but Finn thought that the gnarled, taloned fingers looked more like a claw than they did a greeting. A display of troll power over a human and allies. Of the Elder Realms versus the New Zone.
Then, he sauntered back toward the battle lines and disappeared into the crowd, but not before he let his hand drop. The war drums started once again.
“FLESHIES! KNEEL BEFORE WAR CHIEF DURZOG!”
“FLESHIES! THIS CITY IS CLAIMED BY THE TROLLISH ALLIANCE!”
The Trollish Alliance?! Finn blinked. He guessed that was the name for the trolls and zephyr forces, acting together. Had the Elder Realms they came from combined, too? If so, what chance did Malvas have?!
The ogres lurched forward.
“Get ready! Now!” Finn shouted, turning to run back to the foot of the rise that led up to the barricades, then turning with his blade held in both hands before him.
The ogres started to jog, the ground shaking under their feet and cobblestones flying to either side. Finn saw the riders atop their platforms desperately trying to control their charges, pulling on the chains as they started to lope with longer, faster strides.
They were going to smash right through the barricades, Finn saw.
“The riders! Take out the riders!” he shouted, raising his blade and summoning its powers.
Fire-Bolt. Convert Mana to Damage.
Finn’s vision flickered with updates as he aimed the blade at the lead warriors atop the metal platform. He felt the rising burn of incendiary power surge through him as he released a bolt of fiery plasma straight at them. Riders, platform, and ogre were engulfed in flames a moment later.
You have struck the Level 18 Troll Warrior for 265 points of damage.
You have struck the Level 27 Ogre for 80 points of damage.
There was an agonized scream as a burning troll was blasted from the platform into the street below as the ogre, suddenly freed from its restraints, reared and roared.
However, all of the ogres had been running—charging forward to break the barricade—so the one behind it slammed into the furious first one, knocking it aside as the second ogre staggered onward and the rest of the horde trampled ahead.
A moment later, a high-pitched call came from the rooftops as Rosa and the Air Lodge appeared on the rooftops, shooting down arrows and bolts of air magic. They hammered the ogre squad, causing more confusion and chaos.
You have slain the Level 27 Ogre. Experience awarded to all parties.
There was mayhem ahead of Finn. He saw at least two ogres go down under the hail of energy.
An ogre was a large, powerful creature, though. There was a roar as one of them leaped back up, its platform still amazingly intact as it lunged free of the mass. It raced forward, swinging its club.
Finn snarled, starting forward. He had to stop the ogre assault, otherwise his entire plan would be for nothing.
Where is Mico Sud? Where is Tobias?!
One lunging step, then another, and suddenly he was in the shadow of the first ogre. He felt the whistling air as the club came crashing toward him.
Finn jumped to one side as the tree trunk sized club impacted the ground beside him, cracking the cobbles. He spun back, slashing with his sword against a meaty forearm.
He was rewarded with a cry of pain and a spurt of green ichor, and then he was running again. He darted between the creature’s legs as he summoned his fire ability.
Fire Ascension Path.
Smoke-Shield.
Somehow, the Knight-Defender knew instinctively to throw his hand up and a swirl of black, ashy smoke burst from his hand and wrapped around the belly of the ogre, rising and somehow sticking to the ogre and troll bodies above.
Finn jumped out of the way of one of the sweeping legs, hitting the near wall of one of the stone houses as he gasped for air. The smoke-shield was concentrating around the ogre he had been fighting so that it turned this way and that, swinging its club…
…straight into one of the other ogres behind it.
Finn saw his opportunity, leaping forward and attacking.
Fire Ascension Path.
Strength. +1 STR per 20 Mana.
Finn dropped 160 Mana into the skill, knowing that the Hearthstone of Blackwood still held a sizeable amount. His blow brought the ogre down with a crash against its fellows.
Finn jumped back from the toppled monster and was rewarded with an experience notification.
You have slain the Level 27 Ogre. Experience awarded to all parties.
“Finn, get out of there!” someone was shouting.
He looked up to see that it was Rosa, waving her arm as she and the Air Initiates threw bolt after bolt at the ogres.
It was like a scene from one of those old war movies, but instead of bombs and artillery, it was magical blasts tearing up the ground, killing anything in the way. The air burned with torpedoes of burning blue light, slamming into the ground and nearby walls. Stone blocks burst apart and fell on the remaining ogres. Finn saw the giant, thrashing bodies turn and slam into each other. Their only escape from the barrage was back into their own army.
One of the ogres bellowed, breaking free and running back toward its own line.
Yes! Yes! Yes! Finn almost punched the air. This was the disruption that they needed. He heard the panicked voices of the assembled trolls and the rising whoop of delight from the city defenders.
Then, however, there was a sudden cry of pain as something jumped out of the horde. It was the same warrior that Finn had seen before, and he executed a leap that carried him high into the air. His body trailed veins of burning red energy before he slammed his warhammer down in a fierce blow, striking his own ogre on the skull and killing it before it could crash through their own ranks.
“Dear stars,” Finn breathed. He could only guess at the power that must have taken, to kill an ogre in one shot. Was it the hammer or the troll that had that power?
Finn panted, looking at the mess of ogre bodies and rubble ahead of him, then the troll horde on the far side. The road at Finn’s back rose to their own haphazard barricade, and now the horde had a new barrier to cross as well.
It would slow them down, but would it be enough?