Chương 171: AF Chapter 170 – Rock the Gotrok

The Gotrok Border Watch were literally the only living targets of value on this expedition. He still remembered the Magos' words when the men had some question about the tactics used to kill them, many of them brought up on the great honor and nobility of being a warrior. She cut a piece of paper out, held it up before them all.

"Anyone feel that they need to strike down this piece of paper with great honor?" she asked them all calmly. Even Ancillio, stiff-necked literalist that he was, could not bring himself to speak up. She flicked it with her finger, and the paper colored in with the image of a Tiatus in their bright red armor. She waved it in Ancillio's direction.

"How about now, warrior? Going to challenge this piece of paper to a duel? Confront it under the sun in a noble play of virtues and honor?" He grimaced.

"But…" he began, and she just held up the stack of the papers and waggled them at him.

"Paper. Copies. Templates. Images stuffed on top of ectoplasm. Living puppets given the semblance of life of magic. They do not eat, do not shit, do not have children, nor can they ever do so. They are masses of ectoplasm wrought in the image of the enslaved spirits animating them.

"They are paper. You need be no more concerned about killing them with great honor and nobility than you would a mud golum. They are effectively the same things." She held up the stack of fine rag paper for them to look at.

"The only target of value is the slaver who holds the stacks of paper in their grasp!" The Gotrok. Even Ancillio slowly nodded at that. And slavers, slavers were base creatures, not noble warriors of the ancient lugian martial traditions… Quiet whispers were invoked on Weapons still held carefully in their sheaths. Killing the Watch was mandatory. As long as he was around, the scout would patrol and eventually find the empty Summon spots.

It seemed one was on that route now, with at least two escorts, likely both Summons under direct command. He would also be seeking to escape and sound the alarm as quickly as possible, brave Tukora or no. If they killed him, they could fold up this entire Watchline with the same ease they'd had so far. A glimpse of tamped-down crimson, muted with dust and dirt to make it harder to see at a distance, while easily restored to its proud hue with a bucket of water and a rag, a nod to practicality.

The maroon armor of Summoned Juggernauts was visible pacing along the mountain trail as all the Isparians rolled into cover quickly. The mote of light fluttered on the ground, and a sphere of magic that cut off sound inside and outside flickered into ghostly existence, if you knew what to look for. Jorgio had made very sure they all knew what to look for. His other hand glittered with the waiting lash of the Imperil.

Taking out two Juggernauts was likely going to force them to retreat and recover, and he would have to be on his game to make sure nobody died. The Imperil on the Watcher should seal his doom quickly. He was sure the Royal Scouts were already in position. The Watcher clearly wasn't expecting trouble so far inland, although he wasn't completely unwary.

His Juggernauts pounded along in front of him, dull of mind but with senses enough to look for enemies and race to confront them, buying time for their commander to retreat. All eyes were fixed where Jorgio had centered the Sound Bubble, and he saw the bare rustling of grass where the men who'd quaffed Potions of Invisibility had settled into position, only deliberately moved stones visible to those behind indicating where they were.

The archers behind him drew quietly, the barest of creakings on arrows now just out of sight of the lugians, their bodkin heads burning with the scarlet Baneflames to lugians. Jorgio stepped out smoothly, completing the chant and rush of power, even as the first lugian ahead of him ground to a sudden halt with a warning grunt. Unable to see over him, the other Juggernaut and the Tukora Watchman stepped to the sides to see what was going on.

Bringing the latter right into the firing lane of the three archers as they rose from cover and released in the same moment as the sharp note from the gray light washing across the Tukora rendered its natural armor as porous as wet paper. Even just pounding on its armor could now rupture its skin and break its bones, and the scout knew it! Streaks of baneflame buried themselves in the Watcher's weapon arm and legs as he stepped back, drawing grunts of startled pain at the force and punching fire of the arrows.

The rest of the Guard rose and charged for the Juggernauts, all of their Weapons trailing Banefires that stabbed at the Watcher's eyes with anathema, and the scout knew this was a fight he'd best run from! The Royal Scouts came from left, right, and kicked up off a rock to his left, short Blades and long Daggers raised and trailing Banefire.

The two men cut across the front of his legs, driving in up towards the groin, cutting into the hamstring and back of the knee, while the leaping Shalya buried both of her lethal Jambiyas deep into the lugian's thick neck, the woman promptly bracing against his backside and heaving even as the lugian snatched for the slender Gharu's arms, his bellow of pain turning into a coughing wet gurgle as blood spurted out.

He grabbed one of her arms, and she promptly let go of her Knife with it, getting her other hand out of reach as she spun sideways. There was a crack as his grip held, and her arm dislocated from the wrenching, but leverage did its thing, bringing his arm out and down, into the reach of her comrades. One promptly drove a Dagger into the thick wrist, severing the tendons there and allowing her to drop to the ground, roll, and then immediately dart back in.

H er one arm hung there limply, but one Jambiya was still in play. Her fellow Scouts danced in a circle, she leapt between them, and cut sideways through the other faltering leg bearing too much weight, Imperiled flesh parting wetly and hawser-strong tendons snapping. This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it. Muscles twitched and contracted, and the Watcher bellowed in fury as he went over on his back, his chorozite g reathammer already fallen.

The Juggernauts were still going at it hard, and Jorgio held off Healing the slender, quiet Gharu woman, whose wound was non-lethal. He winced as a lugian mace crashed into Gandalfo's breastplate, hurling the man back ten feet, regardless of how fine the construction of his armor was.

Glaives spun and Spears thrust with ruthless precision and well-honed tactics as Jorgio sent a Silver Heal into the Guard, who shook his head, glanced at the mage for just a second in thanks, and spat out a single drop of blood before leaping back into the fight. The Watcher was already dying, the Scouts making sure of that, bleeding out from that devastating throat wound. The Juggernauts were fighting with power and fury, but no great tactics and a complete lack of teamwork.

They isolated themselves, focusing on single foes and leaving themselves open for the flank attacks that were rapidly crippling them and bringing them down. He wanted to Imperil them both, turn their tough flesh into soft dough easy to cleave through, but held off with a snarl, eyes in the distance, where he could just barely see another set of maroon armor standing on the mountainside, looking out over the valley.

A wavering illusion cut off line of sight of the conflict, especially the showiness of the Banefire, the sight of which the Gotrok had rapidly learned to fear. But he wasn't going to compound the risk with more showy magic, even if it meant more painful injuries dealt to his team. They knew it, too. This was their job, killing the Summons without his magic.

With Banefire active on their Weapons, it was much easier than it might otherwise have been, but the brutal force and power of the Juggernauts' attacks still meant they were going to be beaten, armor mangled, and flesh bruised, even if nobody was slain, while the Summons attacked without care for life or limb, typical of their kind. But the Watcher was dead, one dead true lugian out of over two hundred slain Summons, and the armies of the Gotrok were being crippled slowly and surely.

How much more they could get done before fatigue and the coming night had their way was up to them, but even as they danced and wore down the Juggernauts, the raiders were smiling. The Gotrok weren't going to be in any shape to be attacking while the main forces folded up the Spawn points and the paramounts finally moved to address the threat of Tou-Tou. They were certain that the other teams were doing equally well, and resolved to continue as long as possible.

Although after this fight, Jorgio was certainly going to have to get back his mana, something they all should follow suit with…

There actually hadn't been too many who had seen the Lady Magos do a Stone Walk. The roads she had put through all throughout the Vesayans, with new bridges, piers, and the like, had mostly been done at night, the local people waking up to find roads leading up to and through their cities and villages paved, fountains popped up and disgorging fresh water, and even public baths and toilets come out of nowhere.

Everyone knew who was responsible, as there had been a crowd as the stone of the Jumps had flowed into being, magic no one else was capable of replicating. B ut she had come in silence and left in the same, avoiding the acclaim and tumult of celebration of thanks that would certainly have been the goal of most of the others who would have done such a thing. The soldiers and civilians alike who remained at Overlook had all turned out to watch her.

The disbelief on the faces of many after she laid out an entire town, sewage system, evacuation tunnels, storage chambers, and roads like, literally overnight, was only adding to her fame. Putting up the walls was even more grand, as the Outer Wall went up before their eyes, not down unseen in rooms opened within the stone.

The stone in the ground flowed like putty, the walls obviously made of the same thing as the sands and soil and mountains by the hue of the rock, the little dots of varied colors in them, and the way they just flowed into what she was doing. She started down on the shoreline, making a not-pier, a bridge-like series of arches out over the water it was possible to wade under or sail a raft or canoe beneath…

but further up were wall sections which could be lowered down to stop anything from passing through and beneath them, just waiting to be dropped down if needed. T he area above was lined with battlements for archers to stand behind and shoot any attackers standing in the shallow waters. The bridge-like wall extension flowed up with every step she took, thousands of cubic feet of stone rising into place, pouring up and down and forming whole pillars and archways and pavings as if they'd grown that way.

It went all the way out to the Shoreward itself, stopping only a few feet away, with a large circular landing and building there, able to fit multiple ranks of archers or fighters as needed, before she turned around and walked back, another walkway rising parallel on the outer side as she did so. Nobody had ever seen stone moved so smoothly or easily, or in such massive quantities before.

The lugians in particular had almost religious experiences as they watched the structure take shape, stone flowing into shape like water being poured into molds and frozen to ice. It was s o surreal, as if the toughest and most reliable foundation of their society was so easy to reshape at a whim!

She came over the land as the wall rose to greet her, now occasional steps forming as the main wall, thick and broad, came up out of the sands and earth below to greet her, leaving only one great gap in its coverage, and even that was buttressed with multiple great rolling wheels that could be turned into place to block any attackers, in place of doors.

Forty feet high, over twenty feet wide, with a paved moat sunken into the outside area to further the discrepancy, step by step, she strode slowly onward, and the new wall rose with her. Towers drew themselves into place. Embrasures and internal walls with arrow slits joined them, along with external stairs or quick-drop poles, guardhouses and posts, windbreaks and arrow/rain shelters, sheltered wells, storage rooms, bell towers, high and slender observation posts reaching a hundred feet above…

and lots of external holders designed to hold soil and grow vegetables or herbs, or whatever was needed. They came up to the steep side of the cliff, and as everyone watched, the cliff-side almost seemed to bow to her, and then reform according to her will. Steps flowed out of nothing, levels of them and the same crenelated walls and shielded passageways forming out of the rock, zigzagging slowly and grandly back and forth as they made their way up the clif f- side.

If there were steeper internal steps that did the same thing being built at the same time, they were not obvious as the stone moved out of internal rooms and passageways and flowed into the external ones, doubling the area being worked on as she steadily made her way up the side of the cliff.