Chapter One-Hundred Ninety

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**The Harbinger**

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The Harbinger glares across the battlefield at the opposing force.  Rage threatens to overwhelm it, but it can’t let itself fall to that.  There are three scions arranged against it, as well as an army of mixed denizens.  Seeing the opposition, it has to admit the least are not to blame for having failed to overrun everything.

It can taste the mana of the surface forces, and there may be as many as four dungeons fighting together.  A large portion of the denizens are from one dungeon, along with at least two denizen types from a different one.  The fewer numbers feel older, so it will have to be careful around them.

The scions all feel fairly young, at least.  The wolf is the leader of the forces, and so probably from the oldest dungeon.  Loath as it is to admit, the Harbinger is at a disadvantage when it comes to forces.  With the wide variety of denizens, he can only rely on the numbers of the least, and the wolf across the field has taken great steps to limit that advantage.  For whatever reason, the wolf seems to be trying to hide its origin, but the Harbinger can feel its true source differs from everything else present.

The bee scion has traces of some other dungeon on it as well, perhaps as some ploy to make the Harbinger underestimate the forces.  The Harbinger grins at the scions having to drop the facade and embrace their titles.  Most of the forces are from a young dungeon, so pretending to be so inexperienced could have been a gambit that would have paid off, if not for its own presence here.

The strength of the denizens are bolstered by the wolf, and guided by the information from the bee.  Without those two, the denizens should fall easily.  The lich scion also seems to be trying to hide its source, but it can’t hide its weakness.  The wolf and bee have embraced their titles, but the lich has not, so it must not have any.

Four dungeons, two sending only denizens, one sending two scions, and one last one sending the wolf scion.  Destroy the wolf, and the others will follow.  Without their Leader of the Pack, they will fall before the Harbinger.

It flexes its mind affinity and starts directing the least, its affinity making it trivial to handle the immense rush of information the senses of the least.  The cavern is a mess and it will be more difficult to join the fray properly, but the numbers of openings mitigates that somewhat.

The Harbinger roars and the wolf howls, and the tides of forces rush to meet each other.  But the Harbinger is capable of so much more than just directing the least.  It flexes its mind affinity once more, seeking to confuse and disable the forces of the surface.

The leading edge of wolves and bears stumble for a moment, before a soothing buzz settles over them, the Seeker of Truth girding their minds against the assault.  The Harbinger may need to remove that one before it can focus on the wolf.

Searing pain pulls its focus back to itself, and it sees the denizens aren’t limited to only the surface after all.  Magma wyrms harass the Harbinger and the least still in the cavern, even as the mammalian denizens clash on the surface.  The least have difficulty dealing with the wyrms, as the odd dragons can burst from the earth with little warning, and dive back into it just as quickly.  The Harbinger, however, can easily deal with such pests.

Minds are so simple to detect, even with the unique biology of the wyrms.  Those minds the Harbinger can’t crush find themselves crushed more literally in its tentacles when they try to attack.

That’s not all the coalition of dungeons has to throw at it, however.  Before it can truly savor the pain of the worms in its mental and physical grip, elemental attacks rain upon the tentacled scion.  It roars, destroying some wyrms and tossing aside others, before it regains control of itself.  Even that small lapse lets the coalition drive the least back some, and forces the Harbinger to do more than simply direct the least.

It drags itself towards the front, even as it snuffs the minds of the fliers and hands that get too close.  It’s a devious tactic of the surface dwellers, to take advantage of the open space to attempt to attack with impunity, but the Harbinger is no least to be picked off from afar.  Nor are the least to be underestimated in melee, especially with the Harbinger’s direction and assistance.

Snuffing minds is more direct, but more difficult than simply stunning.  Even with the bee bolstering the minds of the surface denizens, the Harbinger is perfectly synchronized with the least.  Even a moment is enough of an opening for the least to remove an opponent, and once the scion clears one of the breaches, the least can start truly pouring out to engage the enemy.

Unfortunately for it, the breaches closer to the enemy lines start to get overrun, letting the surface denizens swarm into the cavern.  For a few moments, the Harbinger thinks to use it as a trap, but the coalition of dungeons are not led by a fool.  Slimes literally pour in, giving the least little to actually attack, and they can’t evade the slimes effectively with how tight the confines are.

Well, the surfacers aren’t the only ones who can cause cave-ins.  It will crush some of the least, but it will give the Harbinger more of a defensive position to collapse a long line of the cavern, as well as giving the least a much better exit to the surface.  Better to lose a portion of the least than lose them all.  It guides the least in the controlled collapses, even as it wades into the front line.

Its glee in destroying the defenders of the surface is interrupted for a moment by a disorientating fireball, and it takes a few moments to try to understand the attack.  What kind of fireball was that?  It felt like the explosion rippled through its entire being.  While it is mostly unharmed by the force of it, it’s a disconcerting to feel suddenly.

Its attention falls on the lich scion, casting a wide variety of spells from its simple staff, keeping the lines of the surface dwellers from being truly overrun.  Its magic is odd, but after a few moments of observation, the Harbinger is not too concerned.  It’s clearly using an Arcane affinity to add a few little tricks to simple spells.  While the effectiveness is impressive, it wouldn’t have to rely on such surprises if it was actually strong.

The Harbinger keeps the pressure on the main line of the battle, buying time for its least to prepare the defensive cave-ins.  It loses more than it would prefer in the fighting, but those least on the surface and on this side of the collapses are effectively lost anyway.  This way, they can spend their lives to further the Harbinger’s plan.

Moments before the Harbinger is ready to trigger the collapses, the wolf howls and pulls back its troops.  It saves some of the surface forces, but not all, and soon a chasm cuts a ragged wound across the entire battlefield.  The Harbinger roars in triumph, echoed by the throngs of least still under its command.  The least pour from the rent in the earth, slaying what denizens aren’t quick enough to retreat.  It spreads them out, extending living walls of death through the forest to start encircling the tenacious surface foes.

It’s mouths drool at the tactical situation it has forced.  The surface fools now have to try to either fight while surrounded, or try to punch through the thick wave of least.  It deliberately leaves the fewest of its forces near itself, daring the encircled to try to rush past it.

To their credit, the wolf and bee scions make the decision quickly.  The forces rush towards the breaches they’ve cleared, to attempt to hole up, while the scions and a portion of the force charge the Harbinger.  It licks its many lips in anticipation of fighting the three scions directly.  It even allows them to think their little ploy with hunkering in their half of the cavern could work, and keeps the least from tearing into their flanks too hard.  Leisurely snuffing the minds of the trapped denizens after will be the perfect way to celebrate its victory over the surface.

It puts aside the anticipation for now, as it still needs to crush these scions, first.  The bee rides the wolf’s head, with the lich easily running beside them.  The Harbinger welcomes them with bolts of mental anguish, but the Seeker of Truth intercepts and weakens the attacks so they splash uselessly against the minds of the enemy scions.

They don’t take the attack lying down.  The lich slams the butt of its staff against the earth, causing the dust and dirt of the torn land to rise into the air, obscuring the Harbinger’s sight.  The wolf seems to dance and flit around in the improvised sandstorm, launching blades of shadow from its claws at the Harginer.

Unfortunately for them, the Harbinger doesn’t need to see them to know where they are.  Their minds blaze their position to it, even as the wolf slips through shadows to attack from what it hopes are awkward angles.  That it hits with most of the attacks has less to do with surprise, and more to do with the Harbinger’s simple bulk.  It loses a few of its thinner tentacles, but they are easy to replace.

It bides its time as the wolf attacks, preparing its own counter, before lashing out with a thick tentacle.  The wolf is blindsided as it exits a shadow, but the impact doesn’t feel right to the Harbinger.  The wolf is still sent flying, but it looks more like it was thrown, rather than impacted with such a strong smash!

The orange glow from within the sandstorm gives the Harbinger the clue as to what happened.  The lich must have dampened the blow somehow.  The Harbinger grumbles to itself as it has to admit the three scions work well together, well enough that it needs to take them more seriously than it has.

Its form writhes and shifts, losing what semblance of structure it once had.  It seems to change from a ball of teeth, tentacles, and eyes, into a pool, spreading through the entire sandstorm.  It brings more focus to the fight, letting the least handle themselves for the moment.  With improved focus, comes improved mental attacks.

The bee can’t blunt the intrusive thoughts as thoroughly as before, and so the wolf and lich both are having their own focus tested as they try to avoid not only grasping tentacles and shrieking mouths, but maddening thoughts whispering at the edge of their consciousness.

The wolf slips up first.  Just a little nudge to try slipping through a few tentacles, a whisper that he’s fast enough, the Harbinger has lost its focus… the wolf doesn't see the wide maw until it’s too late.

The bee follows a few moments after, the grief giving the Harbinger all the opening it needs to capture the diminutive scion in a tentacle and crush her.

The Harbinger laughs like a chorus of the damned as the sandstorm disperses, leaving it and the lich standing alone.  This battle is all but won, now.  It could torture the weak lich to death, but it has so much to do.  No, it’s a better show of its dominance to simply snuff its mind, then move on to the denizens huddling under the ground now.

It reaches for the mind of the lich, only to find the attack batted aside.  With a snarl, it repeats the attack, but the defenses move, letting the attack hit only air.  Only when it turns its full attention on the lich does it realize a difference.

It’s embraced its title.  The Affinity Savant glares at the Harbinger, teeth grinding and fists clenching around the staff.  Very well then, little lich.  Tentacles and teeth should be more than enough to remove the final obstacle in the Harbinger’s path.

Whips of flesh with perversions of mouths lash at the enemy scion, yet they find no purchase.  The lich almost seems to dance around the attacks, avoiding harm with little apparent effort.  More attacks pile on, and one finally makes contact.

The Harbinger reels from the burst of mana.  The attacking tentacle should have snapped the staff in half, yet the tentacle now lays as shattered ice, the connected tissue cauterized through to the ground.

Not even the Redcap ever struck a blow like that to the Harbinger!  It surges forward in a tide of teeth and flailing tentacles, intending to rip the lich apart for its insolence, and confident it’s low on mana after an attack like that.

The very air around the lich vibrates as it proves the Harbinger wrong, giving it a name to put to the devastating attack.

“Resonance Cascade.”

The leading edge of the Harbinger shatters into ice as it feels force ripple through its entire self again.  It tries to regenerate the damage, but the waves of power keep coming, keep striking and building more and more damage.  The edges of the Harbinger keep shattering, and the wild movements of its entire body only keep growing more and more erratic.  It bellows in pain as a piece tears itself away from the wild undulations, and its many eyes can see the fragment get incinerated to ash a moment later.

It feels more and more of itself torn asunder by the rampaging waves through its entire being.  It’s vaguely aware of each rent piece being burnt to cinders, but it’s difficult to concentrate through the pain of its body tearing itself apart.  Somehow, it manages to focus on the lich, and it almost wishes it hadn’t.

Heat shimmers around the lich, baffling the Harbinger for how it could have that much mana to produce such an attack as this.  As the heat condenses into the final portion of the attack, the Harbinger gets only one hint as to how it could be possible: the lich had a second title to embrace.

No Kid Gloves is seared into its mind as its flesh is seared away.  It will have to try to consider the meaning of the strange title after it respawns.