Machine Mage: An Isekai LitRPG, page 15
What a mess. The only upside here was that the Scourge-Touched couldn’t swarm us just yet, having to go around the fire to get to us, and even then, they would be limited to those in their number that could climb up the perfectly fitted stone of the wall or …
I looked up to the sky to make sure it was clear. I hadn’t seen any flying Scourge yet, but I wasn’t about to make assumptions anymore. Right now, though, we only had the climbers to worry about. Even as I watched, I could see silent figures scaling the rooftops and jumping up to mount the walls, as we had. Our crossbowmen would have a lot to shoot at soon.
Head counts told us we were missing people, only coming up with just over two hundred, but there wasn’t much we could do about it. Ground level was a no-go, so any chance of recovering our dead was gone. The only consolation was that the fire would keep their remains from being turned against us.
“Well, this isn’t going to be as safe and orderly as we’d hoped. You okay, Ryan?” Sissa asked from behind me. Her voice was subtly tinged with anxiety.
I turned my back on the blazing city. Slowly. Moving still triggered my gag reflex. I wanted to shake my head, but that was not in the cards for now, either. So, I settled for a short “No” to answer both.
Sissa looked like she was going to be sick, too, the way she folded her arms as she blinked the smoke out of her eyes. A line of guardsmen pushed between us and jostled the crowd to get to the edge of the gaggle we’d formed. I did my best to give them space, but there was only so much to give.
We had room up here on the wall, but we weren’t using it. The battlements stretched on forever in either direction, a long band of stone with crenulations on either side, widening only briefly on rounded structures that I assumed would be mounting points for trebuchets or the Ralqir equivalent of them.
The problem was that people were frightened and disorganized. Folks were wounded and worn out, and most had lost someone in the mad scramble up here whom they were now doing their best to track amidst the gathered bodies below.
Meanwhile, Scourge-Touched—though few and far between—lunged at us, howling, from either side of the battlements. They never made it within striking distance; each was shot down before they could get close, but they certainly reminded us that they were there and more were coming. Other, more nimble monsters climbed up from the outside of the city, having to be put down only after they took a swipe at someone who’d strayed too close to the edge.
It all added up to a situation where the goblins and tall folk were gradually squished together, spears having to be held high so as not to stab one another. With every howl we heard in the distance, people huddled closer together until we were effectively one big mass. I heard someone out there crying, but I couldn’t see who it was. Everyone was feeling tired, hurt, and scared, and no one was taking charge. Nervous susurrations rippled through the crowd constantly.
Again, I questioned how intelligent the force that directed these monsters was. It was smart enough to hold its troops in reserve for when we were vulnerable. Even now, when it didn’t have overwhelming numbers to send at us, it pushed a trickle of enemies our way to harass us and never let us truly rest.
Was I witnessing effective psychological warfare, or was I giving the hive mind too much credit?
Geddon shoved his way through the press of the crowd to get to us, as gently as he could, large as he was.
“We’ve got our fighters generally on the outside of the formation now, civilians in the middle. Folded some enlisted in with other units, too. Mostly crossbows. We can’t stay here much longer though,” he said in a low growl. The big man wore the same worried expression Sissa did.
“No other officers?” Sissa asked.
Geddon shook his head. “Best we have is the lieutenant.”
“Anyone else?”
“No. There’s even stupid talk of splitting the group and making for different strong points. Just a good way to hasten the end, if you ask me.” Geddon was practically whispering now, as if the words were dangerous for others to hear.
Sissa looked up to the sky and closed her eyes for a second to collect herself.
“Ryan,” she said quietly.
“Yeah?” I croaked after clearing my raw throat.
“Geddon’s right. We have to get moving, and soon. The fire is going to spread quickly, and the wind isn’t in our favor.” Her tone was pained, as if she had to dredge these words up from the deepest, most private part of her soul and expose them to the world, and it was killing her.
I nodded slightly. I knew that we had to get moving soon. This was part of the … Well, it had never been part of the plan to do it up here, but I knew this would happen as soon as I started the fire. We needed to get moving now before the fire spread to engulf our exfil.
She looked at me pleadingly, like I was supposed to say something at this point. I, however, had no clue what she expected of me here. She stared. I stared. We stared at each other. The edges of her mouth twitched, her face contorted with frustration until, after a handful of silent moments, she finally broke. She leaned in to put her face right next to mine.
“You need to take charge of this group, Ryan,” she whispered in my ear. “I need you to take control.”
I nearly tripped over the railing and went tumbling down to ground level.
“What? Why?” I sputtered.
Seriously, why? Pretty much every single person in uniform was more qualified than I was to order people around. I wasn’t a military man or a warrior or even a full adult by the standards of my …
But wait … Does time in another universe count toward your birthday? If so, maybe I was a full adult now.
“I know. I know,” Sissa rasped. “I don’t like it either, especially now that I know … uh … your situation, but this is our best play.”
“Sissa, I’m a backwater mechanic at best. I fixed farm equipment before this. What am I supposed to do?” I was having a hard time keeping my voice down. Panic was short-circuiting my subtlety array.
“Hush!” Sissa put a hand over my mouth and fervently glanced around to make sure no one was listening. Geddon inched closer and blocked us from view of most of the crowd.
“Listen, Ryan. I know how you feel. Trust me, I do. And, no, I already know the question you’re about to ask. It can’t be me.”
“Mmmph,” I said. What did she mean she couldn’t do it? She’d been our group’s leader the entire time I’d known her. She practically lived with the entire weight of the world on her shoulders. Now she wanted to take a step back and let the crippled boy from the Outers jump in front of this parade?
“Because I’m just one of five sergeants left alive,” she countered. “The captain and his executive officers died to get us up here, and we have no other leadership. The sergeants are all the same rank as I am, but they argue over what we need to do now. We need someone to take charge before the group splits, and if I try to do it, they’ll question everything I say and get people killed. You’re an elite. They’ll listen to you.”
I reached up and tore her hand away from my mouth. “Have you hit your head on something?! I told you—”
The hand was back over my mouth quickly. I didn’t resist, but I gave her the angry stare to end all angry stares—or maybe it was more of a wild-eyed, spooked-deer panic I was giving off. Hard to know from where I was sitting.
“Shut up. Shut up!” Sissa checked behind her again to make sure no one was close enough to hear. “You are an elite, Brother Ryan. Today, you are who you say you are. These people need the Rising Sun of Eclipse, and you need to give them that right the hell now, or we are going to die.”
This was a horrible idea, and she … no, I was going to get people killed if I took on this responsibility. There was so much. So many moving parts to this machine. The fire, the spears, crossbows, Kolash, Tiba and her goblins, the sightlines, the bottlenecks, and that was just the beginning. It wasn’t even counting what I would need to do on top of all of that.
“I see it in your eyes: the pressure, the concern for everyone’s lives. You feel it,” she whispered, slowly allowing her hand to slide down my face, trusting me (wrongly) to have my shit together.
“But,” she continued, “I think, if you’re honest, you’ve been secretly holding yourself responsible for everyone in the city for the entirety of your stay, haven’t you? Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so ready to kill yourself for even the slightest chance of saving another of them. Compared to burning yourself alive, the mantle of leadership should be a reprieve.”
She paused, tilting her head slightly to see if I had anything to say, but I didn’t.
“You’re not going to do it alone,” she assured me, pinning me in place with those golden-dragon eyes. “Whatever orders you give right now will be better than the zero orders we currently have. Get us moving, and I will back whatever play you make.”
I shook my head, staring daggers down at her but unable to look away. I bit my tongue, my breaths quick and shallow, the arguments I wanted to make dying before they ever surfaced in my mind. Then my eyes slid over to the people, their tired, scared faces, the long ribbon of wall we needed to cover …
Something gave. It felt like an implosion, my mind giving way to all the external pressure. Then all was calm in the aftermath.
“I hate you right now,” I muttered.
Sissa nodded, understanding, but there was a tiny, knowing smile on her face that reminded me of her sister.
“Where’s Bole?” I asked.
Her expression soured instantly at the mention of his name. I tried not to enjoy that, but I wasn’t above being a little petty. Not now.
“Why?” she asked.
“He’s going to get us underground. Get him in the front of the group. We’re going that way, taking the next set of stairs down and to our exit,” I pointed to my left where the next stairwell would be.
Sissa considered the idea briefly, biting her lip as she ran my words through her mind. “Okay.” She sighed, resigned. “I trust you. Now tell them.”
I looked around at all the worried faces—goblins, tall folks, military and civilian. Then I balled up my insecurities and threw them in the metaphorical furnace. If I could have Consumed them, I would have, and Engine would have burned long and hot. Maybe when I had time later, I’d be able to explore my feelings and have my little crisis of identity when we were good and safe … or we’d just be dead and I wouldn’t have to worry about them after all.
Pushing forward through the crowd, I made my way to the outer edge of the wall where I climbed up on a crenelation, the grassy glade beyond the city at my back.
“Listen up!” I shouted, propelling the words forward with lots of air, lots of diaphragm. For the second time in my life, I was taken aback at how much I sounded like my dad. Everyone froze, blinking as they turned toward me.
“Hello. Uh. You all know who I am, yes?” I asked. A shaky start, but at least I’d started.
Nods from the crowd—from the tall folks, at least. The goblins just tilted their heads and stared, since they couldn’t understand what I was saying.
I cleared my throat and swallowed, my mouth suddenly dry. “Alright. Great. The plan we had earlier today is still good,” I said, hoping saying the thing would help it manifest in the world. “The only thing that has changed now is the route we’re taking. This—” I swept my arm to my right to indicate the battlements of the wall. “—is our new road. It’s narrow. It’s exposed. It’s dangerous. The enemy is closing in on us, and we will need to face them if we want to make it to safety.”
I paused, thinking ahead. What I’d said so far was true. Utilitarian. Probably too much so. They all probably knew the score and needed something else to get them going.
What would Dad do? Something provocative but attainable. Solidify the group and give them a goal.
“The enemy is coming for us,” I continued. “But our road, this wall, is high ground. It’s defensible. Hell, it was made by the Dark Lord to be defended, right? Taking this wall was no easy feat. Just ask your crusader ancestors.”
More nods.
“And you!” I pointed to the nearest Church guard. “This is your home. You’ve drilled on this very wall, haven’t you? You’ve been taught by the best on just how to make the enemy pay dearly for even daring to take a step up here.”
I was just guessing at this point, but it made sense that guards who lived in the city would have places on the wall they were trained to man when the time came. I was rewarded for my presumption with more vigorous nods.
The cold ember of my confidence gained a small puff of oxygen at that. “These monsters are strangers. Invaders. They invaded your home, but as long as you are alive, this place is still yours. This is still your wall.”
Bishop Kolash stood out amongst the crowd as one of the tallest, his black eyes hard, his mouth turned down in a displeased frown. What did it look like to him, I wondered, to have his worst-nightmare-made-flesh taking charge of a small army? I needed to address Kolash—give him something to hold onto. Include him, if only to keep him onboard.
“This will be a moving fight, a bit slower-paced than we previously anticipated. We need fresh arms at the edges of the formation. If you’re wounded, make your way to the center where His Holiness can take care of you. As he’s done tirelessly for so long, he will be the heart of our group.”
The bishop seemed loath to pull his eyes away from mine, maybe afraid I’d do something terrible and world-ending if he didn’t keep me in sight at all times, but his love for his people conflicted with his fear of me just now. The nods and quiet thanks from the guards and civilians eventually warranted his attention, if only to return their sentiments. He, begrudgingly, gave everyone a quiet, toothless smile and bowed graciously.
Good.
“We won’t get out of this without a good bit of blood,” I continued, “but you are on your home turf. Fight like it. Talk to your sergeants about specifics. Keep the civilians in the middle of the group, away from the fighting—especially the children, unless you want your pockets picked.”
There was a collective, nervous, chuckle from the guards, and knowing looks passed between them all. They’d lived together with the goblins for a while now, and there was no shortage of missing coin purses among them, I was sure. Not that there was anywhere to spend money around here anymore.
“As for the rest …” I hesitated, wondering if there was more I could say. No, probably not. Better to be brief. “Well, you know how to defend your own wall better than I ever could. You do your duty, and we’ll all get out of here, one way or another. No one’s getting left behind.”
Now I was getting raised fists. Guards were slapping each other on the helmets and making little side comments. There were no psyched-up roars nor any cheering. That was fine. It didn’t matter if they thought I was inspiring. What mattered was that they now had direction.
I channeled my dad once more: “Form up. We leave in five minutes.”
That was all it took. The military units were off like bullets from a gun. The leaders took charge of their specific people. Meanwhile, Sissa, Samila, and Geddon quietly made their way toward the front of the group.
Skill unlocked: Leadership.
Your current Skill Level is 1.
On her way past, Samila shot me a look that was borderline lecherous. The woman looked hungry—greedy, even—in a way that only her complete and total ownership of the object of her desire could satisfy, and I found myself unable to move until her attention was elsewhere.
Dragons. Constance, save me from dragon women.
I climbed down from the crenelation only to find Tiba there with her two ironclad honor guards.
“We’re moving now?” Tiba asked, grasping the gist of my speech already.
“Yes, Chief Tiba,” I answered, followed by the slow release of the tense breath I’d been holding. “It’s going to get bloody, but we’re going to live or die trying.”
It was Tiba’s turn to look hungry, though it was nothing like Samila. She flashed one of the goblins’ trademark wide, sharklike grins, but hers looked especially disturbing on a face that was otherwise so … adorable. “It’s ‘Queen Tiba,’ actually. We all like the sound of it.”
She turned to address her people. They were like another, separate crowd down there at leg level.
“Bows!” Tiba shouted. The goblins cheered—a screeching, animalistic sound. “Spears!” Another cheer. “Tooth and claw!”
Whatever that meant, it was far more inspiring than whatever I’d said. It lit a fire under the little army of green people. They scattered out amongst the tall folk and attached themselves to various groups, intuitively lining up on the soldiers’ left sides.
Tiba pulled her fingers out of a pouch on her belt and smeared a crooked line of black grease diagonally over her face.
“I go to the front,” she declared. It didn’t sound like a request. I didn’t take it as one.
As for me, my Abilities would be wasted in a running battle. As a bonus, that would get me out there on my own. There was no way I was going to keep up this leadership thing for an extended period of time, and it was probably best I made myself scarce before that useful illusion was dispelled.
I pushed through the middle of the crowd to the inside edge of the wall and peered over the side at the rooftops of the buildings down below.
“Trix!” I called. “Trix!”
The vulpa appeared on a passing guard’s shoulder, which he used as a springboard to jump gracefully over to join me on top of my crenelation. Once he was on solid ground, he stood up straight, his deft hands playing over the trigger and bolt-carrier of his carbine.
“You have need of me, Ryan?” he asked.
“Oh, yes,” I replied, bending down to let him climb up my arm. “We have a different role in this fight. Ready?”
