Serpentlord (Rise To Omniscience Book 9), page 21
Elyssa’s smile widened as she began to talk.
***
“I’m heading into enemy territory for a quick mission. Will you be alright without me for a couple of hours?”
Morgan stood in a small sectioned-off area of the healing tent, trying to ignore the smell and the moans of pain.
“I think I’ll be fine,” Sarah said, her voice still sounding raspy. “I could use some more sleep.”
Unlike him, her healing ability didn’t seem to be quite as fast. Her skin was growing back slowly, as was her missing limb, but Morgan could see that the process might take a few days.
Morgan reached out, placing his hand on the bed next to her hand, and gave her a soft smile. He still didn’t dare touch her out of fear of what he might do, but now that he knew she was awake and recovering, he could finally relax.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, stepping back.
Sarah’s lips quirked up slightly, then she closed her eyes as her breathing relaxed. The healers had given her something for the pain, so at least she wasn’t feeling too bad, but he could hardly wait until she was back to normal. It pained him to see her this way, which was why he had no reservations about what he was going to do.
Morgan exited the tent, looking up to the sky and noting the time. It was around six in the evening by his estimate, but it was darker than it should have been. Brows furrowing, Morgan drifted off the ground, accelerating quickly to six-hundred feet and hovering there for a few moments.
He could vaguely make out a disturbance in the distance but couldn’t quite see it from here. He flew higher, placing a greater strain on his Gravity Release skill. When he reached a thousand feet, Morgan finally got a good view.
The World Beasts were battling, their destructive rampage causing shifts in the weather. Worse, though, if he could see them from here, it meant that they would be upon them soon if their force didn’t pick up the pace. Although they were still mourning and injured, they would have to move on tomorrow.
While the soldiers had been killed, the citizens had not. If the force didn’t pick up their pace, they would all be flattened by the battling titans making their way here.
Morgan let out a breath. He felt like everything was falling apart. The enemy had hit them hard today, greatly damaging their forces and ability to wage war. Morale would be low and Shedra would likely be addressing parts of his armies about how they crushed the allied forces.
The trolls would probably get a different speech, but he would give them ideas of vengeance and justice for their fallen comrades and families.
Even the war against Octagon hadn’t been this difficult to fight. Probably because it was humanity, aligned against a common threat. Some of the humans had been corrupted, but for the most part, they were fighting against twisted monsters. These were real people, despite their appearances. Fighting them wasn’t as easy.
Morgan shook off those thoughts, his visage hardening as he focused on the task at hand. He’d wasted enough time floating up here and contemplating the future of Faeland. He had a mission to complete and a message to send.
He used Rift, the world collapsing around him and surrounding him in a chaotic whirl of color. When he emerged just seconds later, Morgan was inside the Arcane Kingdom, standing over the very war camp he’d passed through while searching for the last Well. He could see and sense them below, thousands of soldiers, all going about their day.
They were cooking, eating, training, and laughing. He could sense the distinct absence of cultists as well. There were only a few hundred in this camp, but any number of cultists he killed was good enough for him.
Taking a deep breath, Morgan spread his arms out wide and called on his Meteoric Downfall. A massive, purple-edged rift opened in the sky above the camp, covering a staggering three-hundred-and-fifty-feet. It wasn’t large enough to wreck the entire camp, but killing everyone here would leave no one alive to send a message.
Even so, his skill would cause a serious amount of destruction.
Below, Morgan could see several of the gnomes pausing and looking up, some nudging comrades and pointing.
Flaming boulders began pouring from the open rift, streaking toward the ground far faster than gravity would normally pull them. The screaming started soon after that. Death rained down from above, the flaming rocks crushing barracks, dining halls, and training areas alike.
Morgan watched detachedly as his skill destroyed a large section of the camp before he left, allowing the skill to run its course. He appeared over the next camp, this one over a hundred miles away.
These soldiers, unlike the last, didn’t seem to be trainees. Judging by the way they acted, spoke, and carried themselves, Morgan could tell they were veterans. When he dropped both his Light and Infernal Stars on them, he assured that they would never fight in another battle again. Morgan felt his energy rising as he appeared in camp number three, triggering his Earth Mastery and splitting the ground.
He ignored the shouts and screams as the camp was swallowed whole, ending the lives of thousands. This one, he demolished completely, slamming the earth closed as they vanished into the planet’s depths. The fourth camp got the same treatment. Morgan felt himself rank up as he left, heading to the first of the supply routes.
He caught a brief whiff of Lumia before he left the fourth camp. She was still beating to the east, now well into the Arcane Kingdom. He briefly debated going to check on her, but as he couldn’t sense Grace, he left her to her mission. It wouldn’t do to bother her now. She was on Grace’s trail, and that was all that mattered.
Morgan felt a brief flash of anger as he thought of Grace, locked up in some dark hole and awaiting a horrible fate. He didn’t know what the World Beast wanted with her, but he would make them pay dearly for what they’d done.
He flashed into view on a long winding road, right in front of a moving wagon. The driver had time only for a single scream before Morgan smashed through the wagon, shattering it and sending its contents everywhere. The ground swallowed them whole, even as he began flying down the road, the wind tearing at his face and the road coming apart in his wake.
In this manner, Morgan flew, ripping the roads, wagons, and food supplies to pieces. The mission itself only took a couple of hours, and by the time he was done, he had singlehandedly crippled the enemy force, just as they had done to them today.
32
Shedra sat in his throne, listening to Luriel’s report with a wide grin on his face.
“While not as effective as we had hoped, the enemy force sustained devastating casualties,” she reported. “Unfortunately, we do not know the status of the human Supermage, but we do have reports of him fleeing the burning city through a portal, which leaves us to believe that he was mortally injured.
“Additionally, a massive portion of the city was lost, more than enough to weaken the troll race as a whole and give them something to fight for when what’s left of the enemy forces come knocking at our doors.”
“Excellent,” Shedra said, grinning widely. “I knew using all the sappers was a good idea!”
No one dared contradict him.
“What will our next move be, now that we’ve stopped the advance of the enemy force pushing through the Brutal Bayou?” he asked.
“We haven’t actually stopped their advance,” Luriel said, beginning to sweat. “In fact, we believe the Brutal Bayou will be surrendering after our attack.”
Shedra’s smile slipped, his eyes narrowing.
“What are you saying?” he asked, his voice taking on a dangerous edge.
“None of this was unexpected,” Luriel was quick to say. “We knew the trolls still in the Bayou would likely give up after this, and after their mass casualties, the enemy will be greatly weakened. So much so, that we’ll be able to easily defeat them once they reach our gates.”
“How much time will that take?” he asked, not relaxing completely but calming down just a bit.
“Three weeks, maybe a little longer,” Luriel said.
“I thought previous estimates gave us closer to six,” Shedra replied.
“They did, but with the decreased force size, they’ll be able to cover more ground. Additionally, the trolls won’t be putting up any resistance and might even lend their support.”
“Traitors, the lot of them,” Shedra muttered. “Remind me to wipe them all out once this war is over.”
“Yes, your majesty,” Luriel said, beginning to relax.
It seemed that her bold plan had paid off and the enemy was on the back foot.
The doors behind her burst open and a gnome came running in, puffing for air and waving a scroll.
“Your majesty, we just received an urgent message from training camp one!” the messenger puffed.
When he didn’t immediately continue, obviously trying to catch his breath, Shedra began to get impatient.
“Well?” he asked. “Spit it out!”
“It’s been destroyed,” the messenger said, clearly not wanting to give him the bad news.
“What?” Shedra asked, his voice taking on that dangerous tone again.
Before the messenger could say anything, another gnome came running in, clutching a scroll.
“Your majesty, supply route number seven was destroyed, and all of our food stores along with them!”
Another messenger came running in, right on his heels.
“Attack on garrison fifty-two! Their entire camp seemed to have been swallowed by the ground!”
“Garrison twelve is gone! Blown to bits!”
“Supply route three has been destroyed!”
Luriel quailed as more and more bad news kept pouring in, messengers reporting the destruction of nearly all their supply routes, as well as the deaths of tens of thousands of soldiers.
The message was clear. The enemy was retaliating for today’s attack, and for all the damage they’d done, this would damage them far more. After the loss of the Brutal Bayou, they no longer had disposable land, food, or soldiers. These losses would hurt, and three weeks would not be enough time to draft and train more gnomes.
Additionally, the food that had been destroyed would never be coming back. She didn’t have exact numbers, but judging by the way the messengers were yelling, the only food they had left were the hidden caches throughout the capital.
“Your majesty, supply route number…Ack!”
The latest messenger to come running in with more bad news fell to the ground in a goopy puddle.
The messengers all turned to run, but only about a quarter of their number escaped Shedra’s wrath.
Luriel, who’d been trying to quietly sneak away, was halted in her tracks as Shedra called to her.
“And where do you think you’re going?”
Luriel turned slowly, trying to fix her most innocent smile on her face.
“To go tally up our losses and try to come up with a counter-strategy.”
Shedra nodded several times, as though agreeing with her. Luriel began to relax, up until Shedra threw a ball of acidic green energy at her. Then, she began to scream.
***
Lumia winged her way around the gnomish capital, ignoring the scents of the thousands within, as well as the distinct scents of Strangler’s cultists. Grace’s scent had been growing stronger over the last few days, and despite needing rest, she’d been pushing herself as hard as she could, skipping out on sleep completely on some nights.
Shul rode on her back in silence, watching the moon rise high into the sky. They could both sense it, the distinct feeling of wrongness coming from that city, as well as the looming threat of the World Beasts as they continued to tear across the continent.
They could now be felt all the way in the Arcane Kingdom, the ground trembling with the force of their far-off battle.
Lumia got a brief flash of something and craned her neck to the side. Sniffing a couple of times, she confirmed her suspicions. Morgan had briefly stopped nearby, though he hadn’t come to check on her. That was fine, as she had nothing good to report. She’d been flying for what felt like forever, twining circles and loops as she followed the confusing scent trail.
It seemed that whoever had taken Grace had somehow managed to confuse her scent, which made sense if they were working for a World Beast like Strangler. She, unlike most humans, would think of something like that. But despite their efforts to throw her off, she was still following the trail. She would find Grace soon enough, and when she did, she would set her sights on the cultist bastards who’d taken her. They would pay dearly.
***
“Today, we suffered a great loss,” Elyssa said, standing on a raised podium before her gathered forces. “We lost comrades, friends, and family.”
She paused, fighting down her own feelings of sadness as she looked to the single, massive pillar placed at the center of the crater where Gilderon and thousands of others met their ends.
“But their sacrifice did not go unavenged, nor did they die in vain,” she continued. “Even as we suffer, the trolls, those who have been fighting us out of a misguided sense of honor, suffer as well, their city attacked by the very people in whom they placed their trust.
“The Great Shaman of their nation has joined our cause and pledged over five thousand soldiers to fight the enemy. Additionally, they will help us traverse the Brutal Bayou and get our army to the gates of the Arcane Kingdom far faster than we could have managed on our own.
“Additionally, Morgan, the great warrior who managed to quell most of the flames in the troll capital, embarked on a secret mission soon after we were attacked. Singlehandedly, he infiltrated the enemy. He killed their soldiers, destroyed their food supplies and routes, and sank their barracks beneath the ground!”
Elyssa paused here, allowing the soldiers a chance to cheer and cry out in anger and defiance. It wasn’t nearly the same as it would have been had they not also suffered a great loss, but the fact that their brethren had been avenged mattered.
“Now, we march on. We march on to take revenge on those who attacked us today. We fight for the honor of those we lost and for justice! Faeland will know peace again because we will make it so!”
Elyssa spread her arms wide, and the pillar of stone marking the grave shone a brilliant purple, illuminating the night sky as the thousands of names carved there glowed from within. The cheering redoubled at that, some crying, others laughing, while more still hung their heads in deference.
They had lost a lot today, but despite that loss, there was still hope for a better future, and that was what they were counting on.
***
“Come on, I know you can fight,” Grace said, trying to wheedle the gnome into speaking with her.
She finally felt as though she were getting somewhere after weeks of constant harassment. It probably helped that about a week ago, five thousand more people were dragged from their pens and slaughtered mercilessly, all in the name of Strangler.
“I can’t,” the gnome said, glaring at her through an upraised arm.
“Then why are you locked up in here, instead of out there?” she asked, pointing to where more miserable-looking gnomes huddled together inside their pens.
“Because Shedra doesn’t like me,” the gnome replied.
“That’s hardly an answer,” Grace said with an eye roll. “It seems like Shedra doesn’t like a lot of people, but you don’t see them locked up in cages, do you?”
The gnome shifted, covering his eyes once more and turning his back on her.
“Come on, not again!” Grace complained. “We’ve been locked up next to one another for over six weeks! Stop behaving like a child!”
“Says the child,” the gnome muttered. “How old are you? Ten?”
“I’m fourteen and a half!” Grace snapped, glaring at the gnome. “I’m practically an adult!”
“No, you’re not,” the gnome said. “Adults are twenty-five. You are barely a teenager.”
“And are you going to let a ‘barely teenager’ insult you and get away with it?” Grace asked. “Or are you finally going to man up and do something about it?”
“Only when you girl up and shut up,” the gnome replied.
“That doesn’t even make any sense!” Grace yelled.
“Shut up, or I’ll shut you up!”
Grace went quiet as her gnome guard whirled, eyes bleary and face twisted in anger. It seemed she’d disturbed his nap. After a few more seconds of glaring, he turned away, tucking his chin back to his chest and presumably going back to sleep.
The trolls guarding the pens were slumped against the gates, their eyes half-lidded. It seemed that after weeks of nothing happening and no one coming to make sure they were doing their jobs, they’d started to become lax.
Grace turned to the gnome, only for him to turn his back on her, effectively stopping her from bothering him.
“You think you can keep ignoring me,” she muttered, glaring at him through the bars. “But when I get out of here without your help, I’m gonna leave you locked in that cage.”
The gnome didn’t reply to her goading, leaving Grace to huff in anger and lean back against her cage bars. The anger didn’t last for long, her tough exterior melting away as she thought of her friends and what they might be doing right now.
Not for the first time, tears began racing down her cheeks despite her best efforts to stop them.
33
“There it is,” Sarah said. “It feels like it took us forever to get here.”
“My, aren’t you impatient?” Morgan said, hiding a smile.
“I just want to get back home,” she replied. “Wherever home is, anyway.”
The two of them stood on a small bluff, the massive walls of the Arcane Kingdom stretching as far as the eye could see. Below, the allied soldiers marched by, setting up in rows before them. It had taken well over three weeks for them to make it here, despite initial estimates. When moving a large force, things always went wrong, and despite their best efforts, it had taken longer than they’d thought.
