Nemobrosus
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Chapter 91: Romeo and Juliet
🕑 Added 2025-04-30 07:06:29 +0000 UTCSince time immemorial, the people of Ravenveld and Avaria had been sworn enemies.
Countless times their armies had clashed on the field of battle, one of them composed of slaves, the other of dedicated lineages of great warriors. The slave armies had all manner of unnatural creatures, using foul magics long forgotten and arts best left sealed underground. The armies of the Kingdom of Ravenveld, on the other hand, had always been composed of a tighter group of elites that were capable of turning the tide of war—people that could break mountains and cleave the seas.
For the first time that any could recall, however, two elites of these respective factions fought side-by-side. There have been traitors before, of course, but none on Sarah’s caliber. She was a Trueborn Chimera who had survived nearly a century of slavery in war and infiltration, and possessed magic enough to inspire Galahad’s caution. To say the least of it, it was a sight to behold.
Sarah strode boldly through the battlefield, calling all of the magic and the tremendous power in her limbs to bear. Her magic was a dark, twisted, and terrifying thing, warping light, shadow and sound to seemingly distort reality itself. She proved both a shield and a cloak for the rider on her back: Willem, the man who had rediscovered the ancient technique of the aura bow.
They were well prepared for the day of the battle. Sarah had brought along several of those wooden magazines that fit into the crossbow, strapping them on her hind legs at easy reach for Willem to retrieve and use. And when he fired them, the raw destructive power of his family’s aura method was transformed into the most powerful siege weapon any of the soldiers had ever seen.
It only took a few shots to break the formidable fortresses that the Avarians had erected. If any dared to stand up to it, no matter their magic or aura strength, Willem could so relentlessly fire his aura-infused quarrels that they did not last for long. He led the charge with that crossbow of his, standing at the forefront of the assaulting team as they broke past barrier after barrier.
To all those watching, it was a dramatic shift in the tone of warfare. Never before had they seen a warrior so effortlessly dismantle fortresses. The wrath of the steppe warriors was reignited on that day, showing all what it had once been like when the Lord of the Blue Sky had invaded their land and rendered their fortresses moot. It gave them deeper respect for those who had stood up to him, and fear of the man who brought that time back.
King Arnoud, an undefeated duelist, watched with calculating eyes, searching for weaknesses in this dangerous vassal of his. Some of those who had endured the Eye of Sovereigns watched with envy, wondering how Willem had discovered the secret where they had faltered. Many watched with pride that such a great hero had been born in their nation—most of all his father, Count Tielman van Brugh.
To Willem, he was just a highly effective tank. Big gun, highly mobile, well-armored… it would be any military man’s dream to carry out this operation. All the tank’s power and ferocity, without all of the need for a trained crew, resources, and manufacturing time. It was infinitely more maneuverable—and perhaps, one day, it might fly.
Willem and Sarah led the charge through the first fortification easily, with their allies swarming around and protecting them from the various displaced defenders that swarmed around after he punched a hole through the wall. For the second, that momentum continued, with him punching a hole right into the center of their fortification.
Thereafter, things became quite a bit more pitched. The Avarians threw everything they had at Willem, deeming him as the main threat. Clara, recognizing Willem as the tremendous asset that he was, ordered the remaining commanders to focus all of their efforts on protecting his advance. His father joined at his side, beating back any aura users that approached or enslaved that attempted to strike at him.
Eventually, their wedge formation broke through the third wall. This time, Willem was delayed by countless slave mages of Sarah’s caliber obstructing the way with an incredibly powerful shield supported by barrages of magic. There, Harmon, Suzanne, and Galahad showed their true colors, going to the front lines to manifest incredibly powerful magic.
The elements of fire and lightning surged out—the favored elements of attack for mages. Galahad was masterfully ruthless in his application of his magic, while Suzanne had the rote brutality of her father’s lineage manifested as spells. Harmon employed a masterful weave of magic that snuck past enemy defenses and effortlessly parried their attacks. It could be more likened to a dance than a battle.
The three great mages of Ravenveld succeeded in breaking through their opposition’s defenses for a time, until there was a great disruption as a figure emerged into the battlefield flanked by several others. The leading figure was a lich. It emerged hunched, its limbs grotesquely long and wrong, draped in tatters that looked like dry leaves. Its skull-like face was stretched thin with parchment flesh, teeth bared in a grin too wide. He was flanked by dozens of lesser liches. Each of them were immensely powerful, and demanded the attention of all those supporting Willem’s wedge breaking into the fortifications.
“That hunchback lich,” Sarah shouted, turning her head back to speak to Willem. “I know him. Velgarin the Hollow. He was the one that oversaw my espionage efforts into Avaria. He’s assassinated some of the most prominent figures in the kingdom. He killed Arnoud’s father, fought Tielman’s grandfather to a standstill… for centuries, he’s been fighting Avaria.”
“And?” Willem asked, somewhat exhausted after employing his aura for so long.
“He’s a legend. A monster among monsters. And I wish to kill him,” Sarah said in what was nearly a growl. “Give control to Junior for a minute.”
“You want him to fight? With what greatsword, exactly?!” Willem pointed out.
Without a word, Sarah dug her claws beneath the skin of her lion’s chest, peeling it back with a wet, sinewy rip. From the exposed muscle, she drew forth a greatsword of blackened bone studded with blood-red rubies, steaming as if freshly forged.
“This one,” Sarah said, handing it off. “Now, let’s go.”
Willem took the blade in disbelief, but before he could say more, Sarah reared and cast him off toward the lich. Without ceremony, he gave control to Junior, who landed as gracefully as he could and set the steel crossbow down, testing the balance of the newly-made blade.
The lich known as Velgarin darted forward like a spider, limbs splayed low as it moved with unnerving precision. When Willem charged, greatsword of blackened bone raised overhead, the lich didn’t meet him. It sidestepped with inhuman grace, one foot gliding backward while the other carved a warding glyph into the ground.
Willem’s blade struck true, but met only a ghostly afterimage. In the same instant, the lich raised a hand and fired a jagged bolt of green fire at his chest. Willem twisted aside, the blast grazing his arm and blackening his skin, but he didn’t fall back. Rather, his foe’s formidability excited him. He pressed on, swinging wildly to pin the creature down. Each blow was heavy, unpredictable, and aglow with golden aura. The lich slipped between the strikes like smoke, answering each with another snap-cast of magic: a spout of freezing mist, a burst of blinding fire, a lance of shrieking wind. Willem was just as ethereal in his dodges.
Sarah struck from behind, wreathed in her dark magic. The lich saw her, somehow—without turning, it flung a chain of sparking beads behind. They flared to life mid-air and burst, sending gobs of fire every which direction. Sarah blinked back into her gloom and reappeared at its side, her illusory magic seeming to defy comprehension. The lich spun and cast out a volley of glowing shards, some piercing through smoky apparitions, others narrowly missing flesh. As it tracked her movements, Sarah’s magic distorted its senses: walls seemed to shift, light bent, its vision swam with wrongness. It hesitated. That was enough.
Willem roared and closed the distance again. This time, his blade cut through the lich’s hastily-crafted ward and grazed its ribs. Bone cracked. It staggered back and lifted both hands for a final incantation—but Sarah’s tail whipped forward and coiled around its arm, dragging it down. Willem drove his shoulder into its chest to send it staggering, then brought the greatsword down with both hands, cleaving through collarbone and spine. The lich shrieked, flailing. Shadows crawled over its limbs as Sarah stepped forward, her presence smothering what little resistance it had left.
“We’ll find your phylactery soon enough, Velgarin,” Sarah promised.
The glow faded from its eyes. The corpse succumbed to Sarah’s magic, fading into nothing.
The two seasoned warriors briefly checked the surroundings to be sure the battle was at hand, and then looked at each other.
“Well done, Junior,” Sarah said.
Junior held out the greatsword of bone and bloody rubies. “You, uhh… need this back?”
“Keep it. It should serve you as well as any specially-forged weapon. Think of it as a gift in appreciation for accepting my presence in Senior’s life,” she said. “Now, leave us.”
Junior nodded, and then ceded control to Senior. Senior shook his head, then knelt.
“Good lord…” Willem said, holding one hand to his forehead. “I feel like hell. The crossbow… that idiot just left on the ground?” He looked back, then staggered over to retrieve it, looking around for more fight.
But… it quickly became evident that no more fighting was to take place. The enemy was fleeing. After all, they had just seen the death of one of their most powerful commanders.
“It appears that we’ve won.” Sarah walked up to him. “And well-timed. Your aura is so weak I can only liken it to an ember.” Her snake tail approached him, lingering near his neck with fangs open. “It would be quite easy to do away with you right now.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, swatting the snake’s face away. Sarah giggled—it sounded haunting to most nearby, but Willem found it quite endearing. He held his hand up. “Just help me out. My legs feel like jelly.”
Sarah helped him up to her back. “Your performance was… adequate,” she said.
Willem studied his new greatsword. “I’ve heard of ladies giving knights a lock of hair for protection. Guess you took it a step further.”
“Do you disapprove?” Sarah asked as she surveyed the battlefield.
“Not really fond of the self-harm bit,” he admitted easily. “But more importantly… can’t believe you’d give such a gift to a man other than me. Should I be worried?”
Sarah sighed, trekking onward dutifully.
Meanwhile, the whole battlefield took notice of the pair. Part of it was reverence, and part of it was a deep and primitive fear. It was clear that a new legend had been born on this day, and regardless of the result of this grand crusade, this fight would be remembered forevermore.
***
Willem and Sarah walkthrough the newly pitched camp that’d been made at the last of the now-abandoned fortifications in the tunnel. For now, their men were resting and recuperating. The two of them had been called to the commander’s tent, however. As they walked, they heard the new nicknames that had been made for them. There were a great many, some flattering, some reverent, some mocking. Only two stuck: Breaker and the Beast.
When William and Sarah entered into the commander’s tent, the attention that was being lavished upon them didn’t end. Rather, all of the various commanders of the separate divisions turned to look at them. Most prominently, the Grand Commander stared at them.
“I’d like to know why it is you refrained from telling me of your newfound ability, Willem.” Clara had her arms crossed. “We might have made better plans around it.”
William stepped forward. “Quite frankly, I didn’t know that I was going to be able to have it ready in time. it was only recently that I mastered this technique, and I thought it would be a bit ridiculous to march in here and demand that everyone change their battle plans off of my word alone.”
Clara stared, then eventually nodded. “I’m not going to punish you for this obfuscation given the results of the battle, but I do want you to know that I’m displeased. Consider this your only warning.” She leaned in. “Now, do you really mean to say that you’ve unlocked the secrets of the aura bow?”
Willem shrugged. “I’m not sure if it’s entirely the same as what the warriors of the steppes used, but yes.”
Everyone in the room looked vaguely impressed. Most proud of all was Tielman, Willem’s father. He held his head high.
“Good. We’ll need at every advantage that we can get.” Raphael shook his head. “There’s an utter monster blocking our path. And I mean that in the truest sense of the word.”
“Who?” Sarah asked. “I might be able to give insights.”
Raphael looked at her. “I sent thirty men to scout ahead. Only two of them came back. Those that did were muttering incomprehensibly about a cyclops that could use the power of aura.”
Sarah inhaled deeply as if surprised. “I know who that is.”
“What?” the king asked.
Sarah paced around the tent as she explained, “The Avarians have engaged in concerted breeding efforts with some species. In particular, they spent many years trying to bring intelligence to some races. There’s only one at which they succeeded: the cyclops.” She shook her head. “If I’m right, this cyclops is the main military enforcement arm of the oligarchs of Avaria: Thrall. He’s one of the biggest creatures that I’ve ever seen, well over 30 feet tall. And more than that, he’s freakishly intelligent. He learned aura at ten, and he’s been training it for sixty years since. He’s one of the main reasons that this current government has survived as long as it has.”
“Sixty years? He’s old, then?” Dietrich asked.
Sarah shook her head. “Cyclops live a lot longer than men. I would say that Thrall would be in his mid-20s—his prime—if he were human. He has one of the most formidable reserves of aura of any creature alive, and he’s still in possession of his brutish strength. Worst yet, he has a knack for fighting. Cyclops are all but immune to magic, and their skin is as hard as stone.”
Tielman spoke up, commenting, “Even I have to think twice when it comes to fighting a cyclops. If it has aura…”
Silence fell in the command room.
Clara looked at Willem. “Any more tricks in your bag?”
Some people laughed, dissolving some of the diminished morale.
“We’ve the brightest minds in the kingdom here today,” Clara said. “We can overcome this.”
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Derek Zoolander
It will be Swamphelm's time to shine.
WarStrider72
Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou, Romeo?
