Warbreaker's Rage: A LitRPG Apocalypse Adventure (The Connected System Book 3), page 46
Another gaunt fell.
The fight was going well. It was under control. Another guard was wounded, Malcolm’s healing magic flowing over the man as soon as he brought himself into range. The guard flexed his formerly wounded arm, swinging the sword. Loch couldn’t see it, but he imagined the guard was smiling as he ran back into the fray.
One more gaunt fell.
Maybe this was it. No more gaunts would come. It was a scouting party. Loch tried to convince himself. He looked up the road and past the sounds of fighting. There was nothing coming down the road.
“That’s the Warrior down,” Darren said.
Loch saw the body of the Warrior fall, hitting the ground hard. The multi-colored sparks drifted up from the body, a mass of them. They swirled and danced around each other before shooting off. The bulk entered Roger, some went into Randy. Another guard received some of the Spirit from the dead gaunt.
Loch didn’t remember seeing that guard strike a blow against the Warrior. He had to have, or the Connected System wouldn’t have rewarded him with Spirit. Loch knew he couldn’t watch all the fights, which were ending as more gaunts fell.
Another of the guards fell as well.
Malcolm ran over, hands already glowing.
Loch could tell from the healer’s body language. He was too late. The man had died.
A gaunt rushed out, heading for the healer. The man reacted quickly, not panicking, arms outstretched. The gaunt slammed into an invisible shield around the healer. It pushed the monster back, causing it to stumble. It didn’t even see the sword thrust that ended its life. Two guards stepped in front of the healer, who started dragging the body away.
“Do we send another squad out?” Darren asked, not looking up from the battle.
Loch didn’t answer. He didn’t know how. There were arguments for both choices. He didn’t know which was the right one.
The choice was taken from him.
“More gaunts!” someone on the roof shouted, one of the archers.
Loch looked up the road, seeing another group of twenty gaunts rounding the corner.
The monsters stopped.
“Why aren’t they moving forward?” the archer asked.
Again, Loch didn’t have an answer.
“Get the next squads lined up at the wall,” Darren said to one of the teens serving as runners. “Tell them not to go out yet.”
“Yes, sir,” the teen said, rushing to the roof hatch.
He disappeared, and a minute later, a new teenager stepped onto the roof.
The battle was nearing its end, and only a couple gaunts remained. Down in the front of the school, two more squads of guards rushed to the wall, forming a disorganized mass of bodies near the one door-sized opening. Loch didn’t like it. They should have been in lines, making it easier and quicker to get out through the opening. Instead, they were crowding it. When the order was given, it would be chaos as all rushed to get out, blocking the others.
It would take too much time.
Darren looked from them to the battle and to the waiting gaunts.
“Tell them to start filing out,” he told the runner.
Instead of getting off the roof, the teen ran to the side. He picked up a stick with a yellow t-shirt tied to it. The shirt was ripped and stained, but the color still showed through. Leaning over the parapet, he waved it back and forth. Down on the ground, the Level Five in charge of a squad saw the signal. He started shouting orders to the rest.
As Loch had figured, it took them some time to get organized and start filing through the wall opening.
The last gaunt fell. Roger shouted orders, getting his team and the two squads back into a rough line. He’d spotted the new arrivals. The older man looked up at the roof, waiting for orders. Darren waved the ‘wait’ signal.
Across the ruined parking lot, the gaunts waited.
Loch felt cool raindrops against his skin. He looked up at the gray sky. The darker clouds were still a good distance away. The full storm was coming, but it would be a while before it hit.
The rain grew heavier.
Chapter Fifty
Asecond group of twenty gaunts joined the first. They spread out in a long line. Loch could see two Warriors, one Houndsman and another that was different from the Drones.
He cursed.
“A spellcaster?” Darren asked.
“Yep.”
“Where?” Kim asked from behind.
She ran up, leaning against the parapet. Loch pointed out the Gray Gaunt Shaman. The monster stood behind the others, letting two Drones stand in front. Loch couldn’t tell if the Shaman was trying to hide or using the Drones as shields. He ran through what he remembered of the Abilities the Shaman he’d fought had used. There weren’t many.
“He’s outside my range,” Kim said, extending an arm out over the parapet. “I’d have to wait until he got closer to where our guys are now.”
Loch glanced at the archer, who was standing next to Darren.
“He’s in my range, but it’d be a tough shot. And if I did hit him, probably wouldn’t be strong enough to one-shot. I’m too low Leveled,” he admitted.
Judging the distance from the Shaman to Roger and the rest of their people, Loch figured they were in the Shaman’s range.
The gaunts took a couple of steps forward.
Roger’s group and the two squads were reinforced as others ran out from the wall. Roger barked orders, directing the reinforcements where to go. A couple of the first two squads stepped back. Too tired or wounded, they headed behind the wall where the other healers, led by Susan Turner, could take better care of them.
Loch didn’t understand why the Connected System made so many different healer classes. In their small Clan, there were Julia’s Battle Mender, Susan’s Caretaker, and Malcolm’s Healer. All treated healing differently. Julia was a combat healer. Her Abilities were about quick patches, debuffing, and getting someone back into the fight. Susan was more long-term. She could handle the larger wounds where Malcolm was somewhere in the middle. His quick heals weren’t as strong as Julia’s and his larger ones didn’t have the same rate of regeneration that Susan had.
Loch could see why there were so many varied melee Classes. Everyone had different fighting styles and the Classes had to fit those styles. But for healing? A heal was a heal. He could see if one of the Classes was more of a solo build that allowed the person to heal as they get damaged, but that would probably be overpowered. The Connected System did seem to want some balance. It wanted the person to be responsible for their growth, not the Class.
Both sides stared at each other. Loch hoped Roger saw the Shaman. Theodore’s Mentalist powers didn’t have a great range, but there might be something he could do.
He stood in the same general area he’d been in since the fight. Loch watched Theodore, wishing he would move closer to the line. The man was as strange as always. His head was bent, his mouth moving like he was talking to someone. His hands moved, rapidly gesturing.
“What is he doing?” Darren asked.
“No clue,” Loch answered, wiping drops of rain off his face.
It was coming down harder. The drops were thick and heavy.
A bright flash of lightning lit up the horizon.
“Why are they waiting?” Kim asked.
“For that,” Loch cursed, pointing.
Another group of gaunts appeared around the corner. With the darkening sky, the rain and the distance, Loch couldn’t get an accurate count. His forces were barely outnumbered, but with the addition of another group, it was now almost 2 to 1 in favor of the gaunts. They had a couple more squads they could call out. Darren was already on top of it, sending a runner down to get another squad into position at the wall.
Like the others, the gaunts walked in step, moving around the obstacles of the ruined road and reforming when they could. Loch thought the movements looked similar to the previous, each gaunt picking the best and most efficient route, which was different from the first and second groups. He hadn’t been paying enough attention to be sure.
They made their way closer, moving quickly as if they knew the exact path to follow. Loch was able to start making out details. The new group of gaunts didn’t have a Houndsman or Shaman. Remaining behind the Drones was a more heavily armored gaunt. Still in mostly leather but with some pieces of steel, it carried a large hammer and shield. Some kind of elite or captain type. It was still too far away for Loch to use Evaluate.
It moved to the front, the gaunts shifting out of the way, stopping at the line the first gaunts had formed. There was about thirty feet between gaunts and Roger’s soldiers. The gaunts were barely in the range of Clan Brady’s archers. Loch and Darren hadn’t trusted the accuracy of the low Level archers or the damage the arrows would do at that distance. They didn’t have the arrows to spare.
A boom of thunder shattered the eerie silence that had come over the battlefield. Both sides stared at each other across the ruined parking lot. Neither moved, except Roger was antsy. He shifted from side to side, adjusting his grip on his sword. The man was nervous. It was obvious to Loch, even from up on the roof looking down.
The rain continued to fall, not as heavy but more steady. Drops splashed along the edge of the parapet, striking the ground and starting to form puddles. Rivers ran down the sloping pieces of jagged and broken asphalt. They collected, forming larger rivers that fell down into the cracks.
Loch wondered how deep those cracks were, remembering the chasm that had formed next to their car when The Connected System had arrived. Something that felt like it was years ago, not weeks.
Dark clouds moved in, covering the sky and casting everything in shadow. The temperature dropped as the rain fell, water running down Loch’s armor. He was the only one in true armor, except for the few pieces that Roger had on from his dungeon delve. Everyone else was in mismatched gear or no armor at all. Darren had bare arms, having given his pads to one of the guards. His shirt was already soaked, hanging heavy across his body, water falling from his clothes down his arms.
“Hopefully, this rain puts them at as much a disadvantage as us,” Darren muttered, leaning further out. “Dammit, man,” he cursed.
Loch leaned out, also cursing.
Roger had taken a couple steps forward, holding his sword and shield out to the side. The older man’s nervousness had gotten the better of him. He’d been ordered to not advance past the edge they’d marked out, to let the gaunts come to him. He was past that line now.
He was yelling at the gaunts. Loch couldn’t hear what was being said.
“Does Shieldbearer have a taunt?” Loch wondered, glancing back at Cerie, who had come out of the Codex Band.
The glowing fairy shrugged. There were a lot of Classes appearing that she had never heard of. Some were similar to what she had knowledge of. Others she had to make guesses.
“It seems to be a tank Class. If that is true, then it would have a taunt Ability.”
Just as Loch had feared. He really needed Kristin to finish the inventory of all the Classes in the Clan and what their Abilities were. She was having a difficult time, as some, such as Roger and Theodore, didn’t want to reveal all the details.
After the fighting, Loch would have to make that a priority. One of many, but they absolutely needed to know what each person in the Clan could do.
Loch felt bad for all those on the roof. They were getting soaked and there was no shelter. One of the runners had gone down to the supplies and brought back a bunch of umbrellas, but it was still miserable. The constant wind was pushing the rain sideways.
He could feel the Spirit in the air. Stronger than normal, more wild. It flowed around the electricity of the storm.
There was a surge of Spirit, the ambient in the air being drawn down toward the ground and then released. A flare of light matched a crack of lightning in the distance. Roger pulsed bright, fading to a light red glow that wrapped him like an aura. The edges flickered and pulsed, wanting to draw the eye.
Across the parking lot, eyes started to glow. Three or four sets. The color matched the glow around Roger. The gaunts charged, rushing across the parking lot. They still moved with purpose, sliding around the upturned mounds of asphalt and stepping over cracks that shouldn’t have been visible. They knew how to get through the obstacles in their rush to get to Roger.
Each of them headed for the Shieldbearer, who had not stepped back. He had his shield in front of him, sword banging on it.
The first gaunt reached him, its own sword leading. Roger caught it on his shield, pushing it to the side and stabbing out with his sword. He pierced the monster’s hide armor, blade cutting deep into its stomach. Enraged by Roger’s Ability, the gaunt slid forward on the blade, not caring that it was hurting itself. It reached for Roger, who stepped back, pushing back on the gaunt with his leg, trying to get the gaunt off his sword.
A second one reached the fighting, Roger managing to get his shield up to block. He stumbled, the force of the two gaunts pushing him back. Randy appeared, glowing fists knocking the third gaunt to the side, intercepting the fourth with his body.
Both men didn’t see the gaunt captain give the order.
The mass of gaunts charged.
The line of Clan Brady held, at first.
Even though the gaunts made it quickly across the ruined parking lot, there were still enough obstacles at the line to funnel them and control where they appeared, allowing Clan Brady to meet them. Swords met swords. The Drones weren’t the greatest of melee combatants, only attacking with basic moves. That worked well as most of Clan Brady were low Leveled and inexperienced. The rain fell, drops plinking against metal, adding to the sounds of fighting. Puddles formed across the ground, rivers of rainwater flowing across the open space.
It became muddy. It became slippery.
Some of the guards wore work boots or hiking boots. Some had their old military boots. Most were in sneakers. Some weren’t in anything they had owned, their new footwear scavenged from other houses. They were lucky if it fit.
A boot came down in a river of rainwater, the dirt underneath becoming slick mud. Too much weight was put on it, and the guard stepped back to dodge an attack. The boot slid, taking the guard off balance. He fell, landing hard on the ground.
The gaunt stepped forward, driving its sword before it. The guard swung, trying to deflect the blade. He slipped, missing, and the gaunt’s sword sliced into his side. He screamed, the sound lost in a boom of thunder.
Another gaunt slipped through the gap, attacking the guard to the side. Facing two gaunts, the guard stepped back, trying to get more space to defend. He was pushed further back, widening the gap in the defensive line. More gaunts slipped through.
Another squad of defenders ran up, blocking those gaunts. More pressed against them, another gap forming as a defender fell. The whole line of defenders fell back. Roger and Randy stood back-to-back, now surrounded by gaunts. Sword and fists glowed as they struck.
Arrows rained down into the gaunts. Some struck, most missed, but they freed up the defenders to fall back. A squad rushed at the gaunts surrounding Roger and Randy, attacking from behind. Gaunts froze, bodies stiffening as Theodore’s mental attacks struck. It was obvious to Loch, up on the roof, that Theodore was weakening.
A blast of fire shot down, slamming into two gaunts. The flames were bright in the darkness brought by the storm. Flickering flames and flashes of lightning lit up the battle.
Roger and Randy were freed, the two joining the retreating line.
It was a fighting retreat, the defenders backing up as the gaunts pressed them. They formed a half circle around the gap, allowing the wounded to go first. The dead were dragged through. More dead than Loch had hoped. Theodore and the healer went next, the half-circle shrinking. Gaunts pushed against it.
Another group of gaunts appeared, rushing down the road, a flash of lightning casting them in odd shadows, a boom of thunder pushing them. They passed the Captain and Shaman, who had yet to join the attack.
Flames and arrows shot down into the ranks of the new gaunts. Some fell. One was on fire. It didn’t run around wild like Loch expected. The flaming gaunt kept moving forward, following the same path as the others. Smoke curled up as the rain fell against the flames. Loch thought they’d be put out, but the fire was Spiritual, magical. Rain wouldn’t put them out.
The gaunt took a couple more steps, staggering to the side as the flames spread across its body. It fell forward, the flames engulfing the body completely.
More gaunts joined those pressing the defenders, pushing the defenders tight against the wall. The gap was small, only allowing one through at a time. They were jammed up, trying to retreat.
“Shit,” Darren growled, pointing up the road.
Just past the Captain and the Shaman, another group of gaunts appeared. This was a larger group, too far away and clumped together to get accurate numbers. At least double the other groups. There were two or more Houndsmen, the giant gray wolves moving along the sides. Loch thought he saw another shaman. Maybe two.
These new gaunts moved quickly around the obstacles of the ruined road. Faster than any others. It was like they knew exactly where to walk. There was no thinking or pausing. No trying to find the best path. They just ran, picking up speed.
He looked down at the wall. Another defender had fallen. He or she was dragged through the gap in the wall, a glow immediately flaring as the healers went to work.
The school side of the wall was crowded, defenders spreading out along its length. Others waited at the gap, leaving a hopefully large enough space. A large desk was against the wall, just waiting to be slid into place to block the opening.
With so many gaunts coming, the defenders needed a break to get everyone safely through the opening, close it off, and get in position for the assault on the walls. With the number of gaunts, the defenders weren’t going to get that break.
