Dragon's Tale 36

After a month of practice outside, I was able to read the mountain much better, which was exactly what I needed as I cut through the winds toward where Astrid’s totem animal had died, looking for the unwelcome visitor. I was trying to stay hidden as much as possible, which was made considerably easier by the fact that I was currently in a forest, with plenty of barriers to hide behind. 

It also allowed my opponents to hide, but considering the numerical disadvantage I was under, it was a good deal for me. 

Five minutes into the trip, I had noticed the first scout. He was a Gallic warrior from one of the tribes based on his dress, and he was stumbling forward, trying to stay awake, clearly being overwhelmed by the magical presence of the mountain. 

More importantly, he lacked a weapon. 

Before I could move near him, he collapsed, which was suspicious. I hid behind a nearby rock, waiting for the others to arrive. Since they were sending captives without a weapon, it was safe to assume that they were nearby. 

I hadn’t needed to wait for long. Barely a minute later, twenty Roman soldiers walked into the opening, followed by almost fifty tribal warriors with their hands bound. All but one was dressed in standard legionnaire armor, but with enough accessories to reveal their magical leanings. Likely top-tier mages, I reasoned, considering none of them looked young. And when it came to mages, experience, especially the kind that was earned on the battlefield, was invaluable. 

It was a painful lesson I had learned from my late grandfather, repeatedly. 

However, that wasn’t as important as the figure standing in the middle of the formation, carrying a staff with a glowing rune that created a mobile shield around the group. It was a man pushing into the elderly status, likely at his late forties, but it wasn’t as important as the mana radiating from his spell, noticeable even through the chaotic mana flow. 

Definitely a sorcerer.

It was a formidable team. Too formidable, even. To get this many mages, they had likely drained half a cohort's worth of magical talent, but the resulting team would be enough to destroy even the strongest noble houses back in Britanium. Luckily, they didn’t have many soldiers accompanying them, no doubt afraid of losing them, instead of using the tribals as bait. 

I wondered whether they found the hidden holy ground, or those warriors belonged to a different tribe, not that I was in a position to care about the fate of Matron Helena. 

I felt my mouth go dry, trying to come up with a strategy while the legionaries started discussing their next step, separated less than a hundred yards. I had two options, either use the opportunity to launch a surprise attack, or follow them to find a better ambush point. 

However, before I could decide, fortune smiled upon me. First, they freed one of the other tribals, one of the mages speaking to him threateningly when he didn’t move, only to get shouted at. After a minute of shouting, the legionnaire stabbed him without a warning, and turned to the next candidate. 

I looked shocked at the arrogance of the mage. I knew about the legionaries’ reputation of arrogance —which was a result of the centuries of military domination— but it was hard to believe it when it happened in front of me. 

And that arrogance turned out to be a costly mistake, as the tribals sprung into motion. Several of them dashed toward the mages, uncaring of their lack of a weapon, while the majority dashed away, trying to escape. They were clearly fed up with the disregard they experienced, as well as their death that looked inevitable. 

Their dash toward freedom didn’t work as intended. Before I could even properly react to their little rebellion, the ones that tried to attack were cut down by a rain of spells, and the mages were casting spells to capture the rest. 

It was the perfect time to act, I decided. I took a deep breath, filling my body with mana to the brim before I raised my hand to the sky, then pulled down. 

The spell motion was deceptively simple, however, I was stretching my mana manipulation capabilities to the limit, trying to connect with the nature of the sky, my mana folding in complicated patterns. A sudden spark from my hand traveled to the sky. 

With their attention on the escaping prisoners, the Roman mages failed to notice the spark, with a great consequence. When they noticed it, the sky was already responding to my command in the form of a crackling lightning bolt. 

The sorcerer was barely able to reach, and the shield that surrounded them glowed brighter, trying to deny the judgment of the sky. 

I closed my eyes. 

A bright explosion filled the area, bright enough to hurt despite my eyelids, accompanied by several cries. I was glad that I had practiced this particular spell several times, which was the only reason I was able to push through the sudden sense of exhaustion to cast a duplicate, before I even opened my eyes. 

I only opened my eyes after I had released the second spark, the exhaustion hitting even stronger, as I had just completed a furious dash. Technically, what I did could be counted as a furious dash. It would pass in less than a minute, as long as I limit my casting. 

“Disperse!” shouted the sorcerer the moment I opened my eyes, only to see their shield still standing, although with several violent cracks threatening its strength. There was no chance it would survive a second hit. 

The legionnaire mages proved their discipline by following the order, running away as quick as they could while casting their own shield spells, while the area shield of the sorcerer quickly shrunk, turning into a personal one. Merciless, but under the circumstances, quite effective. 

I started running away before the second lightning bolt even connected. Their rapid reaction and their coordination impressed me enough that I didn’t dare to meet them in open combat. With the modified shield, it was certain that the sorcerer would survive, and at least some of his mages would survive as well. 

Hit-and-run tactics were much better under the current circumstances. 

Even as I run, I was able to observe the results of my second lightning bolt. Eight of the mages, the ones slowest to react, had turned into charred messes, too close to the epicenter of the attack to survive, even with their shields. Five more had collapsed, seemingly alive, but certainly impossible to act in a reasonable time frame. Seven of them were still alive, and in good enough condition to give me a chase. 

The scariest part was the sorcerer. Despite being in the epicenter of two assaults, he was still standing, albeit swaying like he was about to collapse, no less exhausted than me. Maintaining a shield clearly took a lot from him, though not as much as for me to duel him while he still had seven experienced mages as a backup. 

“Catch him!” he shouted in fury, and seven mages acted, while the sorcerer followed them in the rear. 

I run, picking a route perpendicular to the city, not wanting to lead them into my base. An onslaught of spells flew toward me, a mixture of arcane bolts, fireballs, and earth spikes, forcing me to cast a shield to resist it. It was not exactly easy, making me flinch with every hit. I could have handled it with ease if I wasn’t feeling winded due to lightning bolts, but unfortunately, my exhaustion was exacting its price. 

Something was needed to change the pace before the sorcerer joined the fray after he rested. “Let’s see how smart you guys are,” I murmured in frustration as I kept one hand raised to maintain my shield, while used the other one to discreetly drew an explosive rune on the nearby tree, then continued to fall back. 

I managed to repeat the same trick four times when the sorcerer finally joined the game, his water spells straining the capacity of the shield to the limit. I let it throw me back, stumbling until I fell on my knees, forty yards away from the nearest rune, while the mages dashed toward me. 

Once again, I thanked Jupiter for the chaotic mana environment, before I triggered them simultaneously, choosing that exact moment to cast another lightning spell, this time, creating six rotating balls of electric, each bigger than my head, crackling dangerously. Three of them aimed at the sorcerer, more to prevent him from helping the others rather than with an expectation to hurt him.

With the explosion of the trees, a rain of wooden shrapnel hit my pursuers, shredding their skin. Most of them managed to shield themselves, or were far enough to avoid the damage, but two of them were close enough to the trees to be affected by the explosion, turning into mincemeat with the following spray. 

The three balls of lightning that aimed the sorcerer splashed against his shield ineffectively as I expected, but the other three worked better. Two of my targets tried to shield themselves, while the third one was too late, instead of finding himself in the arms of Pluto. One of those shields held, protecting its owner, while the other shield cracked, leaving him wounded, only to be finished by the following lightning bolt, too quick to react. 

“Only four remains,” I murmured to myself, but even as I said so. After killing or disabling seventeen mages, the remaining four shouldn’t be a problem, but I wasn’t stupid enough to actually think so. I was able to take them down, only because I was able to ambush them with the magical interference, assisted by a perfectly-timed rebellion of the captives. 

The real battle was about to start.