Dragon Tale 83

For all their difference in application and delivery, battles of magic and battles of martial prowess were surprisingly similar. 

Two of those similarities were particularly critical for my current circumstances. The great advantage of a robust fortification — of which an active ward qualified — was important, enough to turn most battles into a decisive conclusion. 

Just like a battle, however, an ambush brought much more significant benefits along with it. 

Of course, the keyword there was successful, as every attempt to an ambush was a double-edged sword. If halted halfway, or delivered improperly, the assaulting would suffer much more than the defenders. 

For that reason, I couldn’t help but feel tense as I started gathering my magic to power up the runes I had drawn. The same equation was also applied to the fortifications. The layered ward they had created to protect their command center was impressive, giving them a great fortification advantage. But like almost anything in life, it was not entirely positive. Its magical brightness blinded them, just like a huge cliff protecting the city, but allowing a group of climbers to ambush the defenders. 

“Be ready,” I whispered to my ally, waiting until I received her nod, and triggered my runes. 

If there was one advantage to having an ally — even a dubious one — during a delicate operation like that, it gave me the chance to turn my focus on the attack, with no concern of maintaining a defensive ward or observing my surroundings. 

That allowed me to split my attention between two different elements of attack, one directing the seven bolts of lightning that sprung out from the runes I had drawn, cutting through the wards with ease only the lightning element could achieve. With that unique nature, it cut through the wards even when the mage connected to the active ward reacted in time and appropriately to reinforce the defenses just before the lightning exploded on its surface. 

Yet, despite its success, it wasn’t the part that took the majority of my attention. That honor went to seventeen unique runes I drew as an outer circle, allowing me to focus my attention as I turned my attention to the active ward around the building, pushing my will against the controller — another trick that was only possible I was trying to attack the ward from the same direction. 

The success was inevitable. 

There was a reason that best practice was to stay under the cover of the wards and direct it outside, or stand outside and direct it inside. Living inside the ward while keeping the wards inverted allowed the exact strategy I applied, one that was supposed to be impossible against active wards. 

They clearly assumed that using two layers of wards would address the shortcoming of their tactical choice. 

They were wrong. 

It took barely a breath for me to steal the control of the wards, the impact of my assault, along with the impact of the lightning bolt, damaged him greatly.  

If they were ordinary mages, I would have expected them to react in panic and fear, but for them, I had a feeling that it would be optimistic. Their brainwashing allowed them to maintain their focus and attention. Still, I didn’t immediately receive a flurry of assault, suggesting that even their brainwashing had limits. 

Though those limits were still impressive considering it took several bolts of lightning bursting inside without the slightest warning to shake their enforced calm, and even then, only for a second. 

Their first reaction confirmed the accuracy of my strategy of stealing the wards over killing them, because I felt a warning spell bouncing against the wards, one that bounced off the active wards that were under my control. 

With their help, I easily blocked that and the following messages. Unfortunately, one of the spells he cast succeeded without a problem because it didn’t target outside, but inside. I had a guess that it had just awakened all the guards that were sleeping and patrolling upstairs. 

Which meant that we were under a time limit. A mage was much more dangerous than a soldier, but ultimately, we were still mortal. A silent arrow, or a surprise blade would kill us equally quick, and while there were ways to deal with that, none of them were particularly reliable when simultaneously trying to battle with a group of mages at the same time. 

I needed to move faster. I triggered the runes I had etched earlier, launching another seven bolts of lightning, destroying the remains of the ward — along with the walls of the room.

Followed by a desperate dodge as several spears flew toward me with a great speed, each glowing thickly with a number of runes that could never be drawn by an ordinary mage. They were sorcerer-made, and they were a threat even for my defensive spells. 

If someone else was in my place, they might have pulled back, waiting for them to expand their ammunition. It wouldn’t be a bad decision in terms of dealing with the mages, as I doubted that, even a Patrician house would have an endless source of sorcerer-grade projectile weapons. Yet, the painful lessons I had received since my childhood taught me a different story. 

Never give the enemy time to recover, as one could never be sure just how many trump cards the enemy was hiding. Of course, the upcoming arrival of the ordinary soldiers just made the situation more urgent. 

Rather than charging inside, I rolled, the dust creating an excellent cover as several spears sailed above my head. I stood up, ready to launch an assault, only to be hit by a familiar aura, now that the effect of the destroyed wards started to fade away. 

I thanked all the gods I could remember simultaneously for my decision to charge inside and not give them any time to prepare. 

It was the aura of a dragon heart. 

No, I corrected as I glanced toward a glass display case, displaying several glowing crystals of various colors and sizes, the smallest barely bigger than a nail, the biggest almost as big as my fist, all giving the impression of a living heart and a rock at the same time…

It was the aura of an impressive number of dragon hearts. 

I rapidly counted nine even as something in my chest that was not my heart throbbed. It was my magical core, one that had a similar object buried in its center, powering me constantly. A true treasure that would make everyone jealous. 

No wonder they had so many defenses here. With that many dragon hearts, even the reputation of the strongest Patrician house wouldn’t protect them, and the enemies would hound them intensely, both other Patrician houses, and other nations.

Compared to the treasure, the protection of a dozen mages could be considered light, almost negligent.    

Two of those mages were already down, one dead with a smoking body, suggesting he was unlucky enough to suffer a lightning bolt, the other collapsed without the slightest wound, probably responsible for managing the active ward before two waves of lightning bolts hit, and triggering a backlash he couldn’t manage.  

Yet, it still left ten mages I needed to deal with. And I didn’t have the luxury of ignoring them, not when four of them were already dashing toward the case, no doubt to equip dragon hearts, one stayed behind, still trying to trigger an alarm, while the other five were already casting together, trying to create a new ward to give them the protection they needed, carrying a variety of weapons. 

Weapons that were hard to ignore, I noted. Every weapon was unique, almost like they were a group of bandits, carrying a motley set of ill-fitting weapons, not allowing them to use any kind of tactics. 

Yet, the magical aura of their weapons was more than enough to conceal that fact. Every single weapon was glowing with surprising intensity, enough to make my skin crawl. Worse, unlike the spears they had thrown earlier which carried deadly yet straightforward enchantments, those weapons were hardly ordinary. 

Still, deadly as those weapons could be, my first priority was the four that were dashing toward the dragon hearts. Maybe it was a biased perspective, coming from the memories of an earlier desperate encounter where I was able to turn the tables after a ridiculous suicidal gambit, but I considered them the greatest threat. 

The problem, with the brainwashing they were going through, I had no doubt that those mages wouldn’t even blink before sacrificing their lives. And, while they might not survive after such an attempt, it was hardly something I would care about if I was defeated. 

I didn’t have the luxury of ignoring five mages carrying deadly enchanted weapons for a moment and waved my hand, sending ten bolts of lightning toward all of them. Pity my runes were already spent. Without their assistance, casting on such scale was difficult, enough to exhaust me even with the constant flow of magic my throbbing core provided. 

I hoped to take all of them together before they could develop a defense against my lightning bolts. 

Unfortunately, despite my aggressive choice, my success was limited. The five that were trying to create a defensive ward abandoned their efforts momentarily and used their weapons. Which, much to my shock, worked, suggesting that the weapons they were wielding were even stronger than I expected. 

Even then, it was not without a consequence. It forced them to step back, ruining the ward they were trying to create. 

I had better luck against my other targets. The four that dashing toward the dragon hearts, and the one that was still trying to send an alarm message through the wards despite my interference, reacted too late, turning into charcoal. 

They tried to defend themselves by creating a last-minute shield, but against lightning, and without the assistance of mysterious magical weapons the others sported, their efforts were useless. My spell cut through their shields easily, too fast to give them time to react. 

There was a reason sorcerers were game-changers on the battlefield. Against a sorcerer, it was hard to resist without something to give an unfair advantage like a strong ward — that had been already destroyed — extremely strong magical weapons — that the unlucky targets they lacked — or a strategic formation to spread the effort — which they didn’t have time to set during their desperate dash, no doubt expecting their allies to hold the line.  

Unfortunately, a second later, I realized that my action came with a cost I wasn’t expecting, because the biggest piece of dragon heart suddenly glowed with a blinding intensity and started to pull the deflected lightning bolts into itself. 

Then, it started glowing, its aura intensifying with each throbbing. 

And just like that, the pain in my chest multiplied, reaching a point that drove me down to my knees. 

Which was impressive considering my pain resistance, trained since I was a little boy thanks to the not-so-tender mercies of my late grandfather and what he termed as training. 

It was an emergency, and not just because I found myself facing five mages ready to charge toward me with weapons throbbing with a dangerous amount of magic, the ease they carried these weapons suggested a certain experience. 

I turned to my unwilling ally, hoping that she might have a solution considering her expertise. 

“It’s resonating,” she gasped as she dashed toward me, followed by a bunch of garbled words that were no doubt her native language, though the intensity suggested their nature as swearwords. Ignoring my pointed gaze, she put her hands on my back, her magic invading my body. 

“Cycle your magic to follow mine,” she ordered, and I started to do so immediately, which helped to take the worst of the pain. 

All I needed to deal with was five mages ready to charge toward me while I was unable to move or cast a spell. 

Trivial.