Midnight Bounties 4 - Chapter 38

The air was ripe with the smell of burnt flesh. All across the golden sea of the Quinta army bonfires bellowed oily smoke.

Sacrifices to a dead God.

The poor bastards had stopped screaming a while ago, now they just crackled away, waiting for the Emperor to give the sign.

“Our God is dead. Those men burn for nothing,” Fey said, her voice subdued.

“Like they burned for something when he was alive,” Pearl grumbled just the thing that was on my mind, too. Fey didn’t reply, she grabbed an arrow from her quiver and nocked it.

“Channel shields now!” Tailfire yelled from the barbican.

Every twenty feet or so across the battlements, shimmering domes spread like turtle shells covering archers, silver-clad soldiers of the First, orcs, assassins, hunters, warlocks. and all the other very brave and just as nervous defenders of Sankta Varath.

The air was filled with the tensive crackle of the arcane. I lowered my hand on Fey’s trembling bow arm and looked in her hazel brown eyes.

“I’m alright,” she said, breathing out and looking up.

The Emperor of the Quinta had given the command and a barrage of burning trebuchet boulders, fireballs, and bolts of light magic covered the sky. Banners and flags of Steelheart and Sankta Varath flapped violently as the first projectiles hammered into the mage shields. First a few boulders that shattered into tiny shards that sent ripples across the domes. Then came the combined force of hundreds of spells that exploded against the city. Some shields held firm, only crackling under the arcane weight of the Quinta spellcasters, a few cracked and the projectiles tore into the wall and the soldiers on the battlements, sending them flying over the parapet or setting them on fire. Rivian channeled a water spell that washed over two burning orcs close to us on the barbican. Others down the wall weren’t so lucky.

“Recast!” Tailfire yelled as another volley came flying.

Tyfus kept a shield over what was left of the northern gate. Defensive spells weren’t his strong suit, but he managed to hold against the onslaught. Cart-sized rocks slammed into the wall tearing out stones, rolling through our ranks, or flying over the defensive line into the bailey and farther into town, demolishing whatever was in their way.

The stench of burning flesh and sizzling arcane powers filled the air. A horn blasted across the Quinta army and the first battalions of soldiers began their march, pushing ahead siege towers and carrying ladders. Behind the first few thousand soldiers was a vast sea of golden-clad Quinta waiting for their turn. Hundreds of banners of the five-pointed star flapped in the wind.

A third volley of rock, fire, ice, and light magic exploded against the wall and shields. The sound of a thousand windows shattering echoed across the city as more defensive spells broke, allowing arcane death to spread across our ranks.

“Hold!” I heard Stein yell. He walked along the battlements. “This is your city! This is your wall! Do not let the fanatics come up your fucking wall!”

The men of the First and even the orcs cheered with bravado.

“Archers!” he roared. “Thin these fuckers out!”

A large volley of arrows flew off the wall, together with ballista bolts from the remaining towers. Fey and Rot let loose from their own weapons, killing dozens. Hundreds of Quinta fell across the field, but the army marched on, pushing their siege equipment towards us.

Their own spellcasters took to channeling shields across their formations and our second volley proved much less effective. All the while our own mage’s shields kept shattering under the pressure of the Quinta trebuchets and arcane wielders.

“Duvok, Grimjon, it’s time,” I said, giving the order.

The giant wooden orc towers behind our wall began to crackle as the shamans started channeling a large protective layer across most of the northern wall. Duvok barked at the orcish engineers and scores of catapults in the bailey began to rain death on the enemy. Large fiery boulders flew over our wall and crashed into the oncoming battalions of Quinta soldiers.

“Mages, unleash!” Tailfire yelled, knowing that his order didn’t need to play defensively anymore.

“Now we’re talking!” Tyfus yelled, his purple eyes on fire.

A wave of heat erupted from the gnome standing next to me as he finally let go and did what he was meant to: cause mayhem and destruction.

The whole world seemed to shake and crackle with explosions. The Quinta shields absorbed some of the attacks, but most broke through, melting soldiers in their gold-painted gear and flinging them off their feet. Heavy boulders rolled through their ranks, crushing them. One of their siege towers caught fire, burning the men inside alive.

All the while the Quinta projectiles landed against the shaman shields, causing waves of arcane energy to ripple through the shimmering domes. But they held surprisingly firm.

“They got nothing on us!” Matis yelled, staring over the wall. “They’ll all die before they reach the wall!”

I didn’t want to kill the morale, but Matis’ enthusiasm was sadly misplaced.

Another siege tower was torn to shreds by a catapult projectile. Men came raining out the tower, and a moment later, it it crashed into the soldiers below. Sankta Varathian defenders cheered and laughed as the first enemy battalions were reduced to ash. There were barely a hundred soldiers remaining and they kept running at our walls with ladders.

“Why aren’t they retreating?” Pearl asked, watching the desperate men run into certain death.

Fireballs exploded all around them, burning flesh and filling the symphony of war with a crescendo of terrified screams that made even the orcs flinch and grimace.

“Quinta don’t retreat,” Fey said, shooting an arrow at an already burning golden soldier. A mercy kill, no less. Some of the weathered soldiers around us didn’t like that, but nobody dared say anything.

“Now comes the attack,” I muttered.

“What?” Rot snapped.

Another warhorn blasted from the Quinta army.

The earth shook as a giant formation broke from the main army and came marching towards the wall.

“The five of five!” the army chanted, sending shivers down my back and tail. The words were burnt into my mind, and it always evoked the same reaction.

I unsheathed my swords and took a deep breath.

There was a notable difference in the type of soldiers that came at us this time. While the first battalions were clad in gold, it was mostly painted leather. This time, part of their main force advanced and they were clad in heavy plate, their ranks stricken with bannermen, Ecclesiarch Commanders, and war-wagons pulled by horses in which high-ranking mages sat channeling protective spells. More siege towers were pulled along, this time by giant armored Craywyrm, house-sized horned beasts of the Bone Valley.

Tyfus was mad with power, screaming insults as he flung one fireball after the other at the oncoming force. The other mages, including Tarnia, unleashed rains of fire, blizzards, and lightning storms against the Quinta, but a lot of it was deflected by their shields.

“Brace for battle!” Stein yelled as we all realized they would reach the walls this time.

“For blood! For Orga and Korga!” Targa yelled from farther down the wall, his voice like thunder as it rolled through the battlements and enraging the orcs.

Siege towers still exploded, Quinta troops were still destroyed by spells and boulders and volleys of arrows, but there were just so many of them.

As they neared the wall and their five of five chant began to blanket the rest of the battlefield clamor, the Quinta Commanders raised tall golden staves and gathered light magic in large blinding orbs. I grabbed onto the parapet, watching the first few lines of soldiers begin to twist and shake unnaturally as the light magic seeped into them. I looked to my side and saw Fey’s runes light up like never before.

“What’s going on?” I muttered before the soldiers turned into apparitions of white magic that twisted them into four-legged beasts of glowing light. They charged at the wall, breaking formation and climbed the walls like a tide of golden light. Our soldiers, ill-prepared for this, were suddenly swarmed by the creatures.

“Kill them all!” Targa roared as the orcs struck back, axes flashing against the light-beasts, shattering some while others clawed their way through our ranks.

The first ladders and siege towers hit the wall and draw bridges smacked against the parapets. Golden Quinta soldiers came streaming into the battlements. The armies clashed all along the length of the northern wall. Screams and clanks of steel echoed from all directions. A fireball exploded in the midst of a group of the light monsters and soldiers, killing them equally and incinerating others. The mage who cast it screamed as he burned to ash.

“Continue the pressure!” I yelled down at Duvok and his catapult regiment. “Defend the barbican, don’t let them breach the gate. I’m counting on you!” I told Tyfus, Fey, and the rest of the Midnights. I eyed one of the Ecclesiarch Commander then flapped my wings and rose into the air between the flying projectiles, feeling the magical charge spread across my skin.

I speared down at the nearest formation with Mercy and Traitor activating both (Demon Skin) and (Morgefah’s Favor). The mage in the war-wagon fumbled for a protective spell, swinging his hands up clumsily as he saw me coming. He was too little too late.

I rampaged through the soldiers, cutting and slashing, taking down a dozen as I landed, and bashed my way through golden armor and spilling Quinta blood. I spun taking two more heads and splitting a man vertically, his torso flying into the embrace of another soldier.

I dashed to their commander who brought up his staff, channeling light magic into it. He fired a searing white beam that blasted into my face but did nothing but blind me. I burrowed Traitor into his guts, causing the Ecclesiarch to explode in a shower of blood and bits of meat.

I used (Waltz of Death) and made my way through the rest of the terrified formation, turning golden soldiers into gold-red mist, sending legs, arms, and heads flying into every direction.

I looked over my shoulder and saw a siege tower unleash a stream of soldiers onto the barbican where my family stood. I twitched, wanting to (Rift Walk) up there but stopped myself seeing Wortimus at the draw bridge. He gathered green energy around his fist then blasted the first Quinta soldier who came running out the tower with such force he pulverized the poor man. Fey brought down three with a single split shot, and finally Tyfus detonated the top part of the tower causing burning, screaming men to plummet down to their deaths.

The moment of indecisiveness cost me a hammer to the face that made me stagger for a brief moment. I wanted to flap my wings to create distance but realized I had already turned to good ol’ human Frank. A curious thing, as the transformation was usually very uncomfortable.

The Quinta warhorn boomed once more across the already chaotic battlefield and another large detachment of soldiers began their advance. A trebuchet boulder smacked into one of the shaman towers and tore it apart killing the orcs and removing the protective shield across a section of the wall.

“Fuck,” I hissed.

I had to do more damage, much, much more. I called on Wolf and the deviltail came flying down the wall and squashing a soldier beneath his weight. He bit into another who was trying to escape the beast’s menace, his long fangs bore through the golden armor and Wolf spat him out, slamming the soldier against the wall.

I jumped on his back and we rode up to the nearest fresh formation, killing several soldiers along the way. We charged into the side of the group, flinging shielded Quinta through the air and cutting and crushing their bones beneath Wolf’s heavy legs. Soldiers screamed and panicked as we stomped through their ranks, feeding Mercy to another Ecclesiarch and biting their mage’s head off. 

A vast explosion rocked the world farther down the line, a siege tower exploded but so did a large part of our wall. A massive volley of boulders followed the explosion, the shaman shield broke, and soldiers died left and right. Another warhorn blasted even before the other battalions reached us. The Quinta were going all out, sparing no man.

“Kill that one!” I heard the incoming commanders bark as they pointed their weapons at me.

“Fucking try,” I grunted. “Wait for me here, boy.”

I jumped off his back and (Rift Walked) up into the air. Though I just turned back, I had to use whatever I could to stem the tide of fanatics trying to drown our city in their fucking zealotry.

I transformed high above the battlefield, causing a massive blast of power to spread in all directions. I saw the breach in the wall clearer now. Quinta were streaming through and a single Sankta Varathian warrior stood at the vanguard of the defenses, Shieldmother. I grinned, the sight filling me with vigor.

Bolts of light came flying in my direction from the approaching soldiers. Some caught me, exploding against my body and wings and causing white-yellow tentacles of lightning to snake down to my feet. I had plenty of resistance to their spells, but the sheer quantity was insane. Before they could pluck me from the sky, I rose my hands and invoked (Black Apocalypse) the final form of my (Black Embrace).

I immediately felt the rush of Everdark energy fill me with immense, almost uncontrollable power. Black orbs screamed into existence around me and began orbiting my demonic body as the very air crackled with energy. I shook with power. I had never felt anything alike and was almost lost in it.

The incoming light magic orbs exploded against the black orbs. I saw their formation shift to adjust for me. More and more casters focused on the flying demon above their heads. Good.

The sky above me darkened, and the cacophony of battle seemed to lessen as much of both armies looked up to see what was happening.

Before I unleashed the storm of death, I used (Plains of Darkness) the spell I had acquired killing Morgefah.

The earth shook beneath the Quinta soldiers and massive tentacles erupted in a wide area, catching almost two battalions worth at once. As the tentacles shot out of the ground, they caught the nearest soldiers, slinging them around, smashing them to pulp, and entangling many in place to rip them apart.

“Now,” I said and unleashed the (Black Apocalypse) across the battlefield. Hundreds of orbs rained onto the Quinta army, causing a vast field of black and purple explosions. Soldiers flew tens of feet into the air, even their mages and commanders died unable to protect themselves, and whatever siege machines were caught in the destruction simply evaporated. All the while tentacles tore into anything they saw as hostile. The screams of the Quinta filled the battlefield as smoke rose high into the air, smelling of charred meat and melted iron.

My (Final Contract) ended abruptly and I plummeted to the ground. I (Rift Walked) onto Wolf’s saddle and groaned in pain.

The Quinta advance was momentarily halted, but it was far from over. I must have killed hundreds if not thousands in that single attack. My whole body hurt. The storm of darkness was still raging across the battle field, destroying anything it came in touch with.

The Quinta were already adjusting and moving their armies around the storm.

“Back, boy,” I said, trying to catch my breath.

Nobody said anything about god-tier spells taking it out of me like that. I felt like I had fought each of those men down there one by one. My Deeproot was screaming with notifications and experience gain, but none of those were even remotely on my list of priorities. As we made our way back to the wall, I killed whatever we came across and I cursed the damned Quinta.

Another breach, closer to the gatehouse, was filling up with Quinta soldiers. Despite everything I did, it felt like I hadn’t even caused a dent in their army.

The orcs and the First were battling it out on the walls, the towers, in the holes of the walls, standing on rubble and dead men. Spells still exploded left and right, and shields screamed desperately at the continuous onslaught.

I teleported up the barbican where Wortimus, Matis, and Pearl were killing Quinta by the numbers. Two siege towers were partially destroyed and burning at the gate, but new ones were already arriving.

“What’s the situation?” I said, panting.

“Holy shit, Frank, what the hell was that?” Matis said, flinging blood off his rapier and wiping his face. I looked over my shoulder at the dark storm bellowing in the distance.

“Not enough,” I said.

“It’s not looking great,” Tyfus said, tossing another fireball down into the battlefield. He was covered in sweat and breathing hard. The mage was reaching his limits, but no wonder. He’d probably killed hundreds by himself, too.

“We have two breaches here, and apparently two more across the other parts of the wall. We’ll be fighting them in the streets soon.”

“Stein!” I roared, seeing the Commander of the First hack down a young-looking Quinta soldier with his sword. He raised his bloodied head at me.

“What!”

“Can we hold the wall?”

“Not if—” Something shook the stone beneath my feet.

I looked over the parapet and saw one of the giant Craywyrm beasts bash into the improvised gate and bending the bars. Fey fired a barrage of light-enhanced arrows at its back but it didn’t even seem to notice it. The thing was the size of a lemophant just much, much angrier.

A shadow suddenly swooped over us, filling the air with the stench of death. It landed on the Craywyrm, then slashed across it with such speed that I couldn’t identify who or what it was. The giant beast roared in pain as massive gashes suddenly appeared all across its armored body. Blood erupted from the many wounds, and a moment later, Ragul appeared on the barbican with his black blade covered in thick red blood.

Before I could ask, his eyes rolled back turning completely white as he raised a hand, gathering dark mist around it. Something moved below the gate again and I leaned over to see the Craywyrm he just killed stand up again, its eyes a hollow white just like Ragul’s. The Craywyrm turned about, flattening Quinta soldiers beneath its feet and then stomped its way into the nearest group of soldiers. The vampire drow breathed out hard.

“Master Frank, I’ve arrived.”

“And not too soon,” I said with a grinn.

Opius came trudging up the barbican in his full druid gear, green magic swirling around him. As he reached the top, he was already sending healing waves across the battlements invigorating our soldiers.

“A very decent catastrophe, mind you,” he said, eyeing the approaching army. “That’s a lot of fanatics down there. Don’t think I ever saw as many in all my years.”

“Then start killing some!” Tyfus snapped, straining to evoke another destruction spell.

The stone he stood on was charred black and smoking from the release of fire magic. As if on cue, another siege tower bashed into the barbican, the draw bridge clanking against the stone. Opius groaned, thick fur erupting across his skin as he dropped on all fours, turning into his bear form. He charged forward as if to make a point and nobody cared to stop him.

As soon as the first Quinta soldier ran across the bridge, Opius bashed into him, mangled the next one with his massive paw, and bit the third in the leg, and slung him fifty feet to the ground below. Wort followed after him, punching another in the head and turning it to pulp. Rot fired a bolt into one of the men behind that one, impaling him against the frame of the siege tower, then exploded and damaged part of the tower. Several more soldiers dropped to their death.

The Quinta didn’t so much as stop to consider their casualties, they just threw themselves at the city like madmen, screaming and charging into death.

Another siege tower surrounded by two battle groups headed straight for us. I looked at Tyfus who seemed to be preparing a hot welcome. His eyes were on fire and flames circled him wildly.

“Not here!” I yelled, realizing he was about to cast his most destructive spell.

“Get…Me…Down there!” he hissed.

I grabbed onto the burning gnome and (Rift Walked) right between the two formations, then teleported back onto the barbican. Before the Quinta caught could react to what was going on, a tiny, angry gnome raised his hands and a massive blast wave erupted outward in all directions.

The explosion shook the battlefield all around him, deafening out every other other sound. The soldiers closest to the gnome turned to melted flesh and iron, while those farther out were sent tumbling through the sky, burning and screaming in pain. The siege towers groaned under the pressure, caught fire, and started listing. I (Rift Walked) back in the field, grabbed the gnome, and returned back up to the barbican.

Tyfus dropped to all fours, panting.

As the gnome-shaped mushroom cloud rose into the air and the screams of the Quinta died down, there was nothing but ash, charred bones, and pools of molten gold below the gate.

“I—I need a break,” the gnome mage gasped.

“You do that,” I said, patting him on the back.

“Hey, Frank. What the fuck is that over there?” Pearl said, pointing over the wall.

A strange formation was approaching farther east. It was surrounded by cavalry and large golden creatures I could hardly call men. There must have been a whole regiment of Ecclesiarches and other casters, war-wagons and large, lumbering beasts all surrounding a single entity.

“The—No, it can’t be!” Fey cried out.

My Deeproot suddenly chimed with a warning tone and by the look on everyone’s face, they all got the same message. The sky above the creature in the center of the formation glowed brightly, sending beams of light down at it. White lightning snaked its way from above. A massive white ball of energy formed where it was, fueled by the energy from the seething sky.

“No,” I muttered before a massive ball of light magic flew directly at the wall, burning through Quinta soldiers, siege towers, crashing into the stone, and exploding catastrophically.

The impact was blinding and I had to cover my only good eye as the world shook. The power of the spell not only broke through the wall, but into the already torn housing behind it, stopping about two streets deeper into the city. A pressing, terrifying silence washed over the battlefield as the dust settled.

“The wall is breached!” Stein roared.

Not that anyone needed him to say so. I checked my Deeproot and frowned.

[WARNING: Demi-god threat level detected]

“Sir,” Ragul said, dusting himself off. “I think that one has your name.”

“Commander,” one of the First engineers said, running up to our position. “The wall’s crumbling. We can’t defend here anymore, or we’ll all be buried beneath the stone.”

I bit my lip and looked down at the battlefield. The Emperor and his retinue weren’t advancing, only his soldiers did. The orcs and the First were battling it out on the battlements, in the breaches where the wall had already opened, but now there was a hundred-foot-wide hole in the wall.

“Retreat,” I hissed through my teeth, staring down at the Demi-god. He stared right back at me.

“Sorry, sir? What was that?”

“Retreat to the Temple District!”