Chương 46: Chapter 43: Cost of Admission

Recovering my fallen bow from the blacktop, I gritted my teeth against the lingering ache in my lower back and pushed forward to join the front-line. A fresh wave of hostiles was sprinting out of the central quad, heading straight for the unlatched double gates to engage our team. As I slid into a high knee beside Alex, I noticed the roof bandit who had been targeting me was now lying motionless on the pavement, a thick, withering green vine wrapped tightly around his throat.

"When I say go," I commanded, my eyes locked on the approaching enemy combatants, "throw your wall up directly in front of the gate. Do not let them retreat back into the courtyard." Alex gave me a sharp, determined nod. I immediately began drawing on my mana pool, planting my feet and taking ten grueling seconds to anchor the complex spell coordinates. The moment the lead elements of the enemy force crossed the gate threshold into the outer parking lot, I slammed my hand forward, releasing the stored energy.

"Now!" I barked. The ground beneath the charging men instantly erupted into a dense, jagged carpet of calcified stone spikes as my [Spike Growth] manifested. The lead runners stumbled blindly into the razor-sharp terrain, their boots and legs shredded as they were stopped dead in their tracks. The men immediately behind them, possessed by forward momentum, couldn't brake in time. They collided violently with their vanguard, knocking them face-first onto the impaling spikes.

When the surviving combatants pushed off the corpses of their comrades to turn and flee, they slammed directly into a dense, vertical wall of thorny, interlocking briers. Alex had timed his spell perfectly. Trapped in a lethal bottleneck between the bramble wall and my spike field, the hostiles were completely exposed. Between Alex's rapid-fire archery and the heavy, synchronized rifle fire from Joe's fire team, the trapped men didn't stand a fraction of a chance.

Dog smartly held his position in the deep shadows; with that volume of lead and carbon cutting through the air, he would have been a massive liability in the crossfire. Within a minute, the chaotic barrage tapered off, and the front courtyard fell into a heavy, ringing silence.

"Eyes up!" Joe roared, his rifle stock still welded to his shoulder.

"Keep your sectors covered! There might still be stragglers dug into the roofs or skirting the wings."

"We need to gain access to the administrative wing and secure the district master keys," I said, catching my breath as I slung my bow.

"We can force the front glass double doors. Once we clear the main office suite, we can exit through the eastern fire doors straight into the quad. Alex's barrier is rated to stand for a full hour, so our back is covered."

"Sounds like a solid breach plan," Joe agreed, motioning for Pete and Johnny to form up.

"Let's make our move." As the team shifted toward the commercial glass doors of the front office, I tapped my mic to establish a connection with the staging vehicle.

"Overwatch, we have a clean perimeter here. Reposition the quad-copters over the central quad and sweep the interior for secondary movement."

"They copy, shifting lenses now," Isadora's voice returned. I had phrased the transmission with deliberate calm, mostly to settle my wife's nerves; I knew she and Chad were sitting in that darkened house, hanging onto every syllable of the tactical radio traffic. We were within ten feet of the office entry doors when a sickening, pained cry cut through the ambient ringing of the gunfire. We whipped our heads around just in time to see a dark silhouette materialize from the blind spot of a concrete pillar.

The figure had driven a long blade straight up under Johnny's tactical vest from behind—executing the exact same stealth opener the previous rogue had used on me. Joe let out a wild, primal battle cry, instantly drawing his heavy tactical axe and charging the shadow. As I reached into my quiver to nock a fresh arrow, my automatic [Inspect] parsed the target's info: The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

[Target Profile: Human] Level: 8 Class: Rogue I released my string, but the rogue's reflexes were unnaturally fast. He jerked Johnny's body into my line of fire, using the heavy plate carrier as a human shield to catch the arrow. In one fluid, terrifyingly precise motion, the assassin ripped the long blade from the Paladin's back and executed a blinding spinning strike, completely beheading Johnny before Joe's axe could close the distance. The loss hit like a physical blow.

I yanked another shaft from my quiver, drawing back as Alex launched a volley of his own. This rogue's dexterity modifier was far too high for Joe to match in a straight melee exchange; if I didn't alter the math immediately, Joe was going to get carved up on the blacktop. Alex kept pouring arrows into the pocket, trying to force the rogue into a defensive posture between Joe's heavy axe swings, but the assassin simply melted around the attacks, dodging every incoming trajectory with ease.

I anchored my draw, forcing my racing pulse down and slowing my breathing the exact same way I would for a long-distance target shot. I stopped tracking where the rogue was standing and began evaluating his kinetic rhythm. I timed the release perfectly, anticipating the defensive split-second after Joe's next horizontal swing and Alex's tracking arrow. Instead of shooting at his current spot, I placed my pin on the exact location the rogue would be forced to occupy to avoid the axe and the projectile.

The rogue slipped the melee swing, stepping laterally right into the waiting flight path of my carbon arrow. The broad-head punched cleanly through his chest armor, stopping him dead in his tracks with a sharp, stunned gasp. Joe didn't waste the opening. Capitalizing on the assassin's momentary paralysis, he brought his heavy axe around in a brutal return arc, returning the favor and taking the rogue's head clean off his shoulders.

My HUD instantly flooded with a cascade of blue notifications indicating we were no longer in an active combat state. I swiped them out of my field of view with a twitch of my mind; now wasn't the time to review experience distribution or stat allocation. We had just lost a core member of our community. A friend. I clicked my mic, my voice hollow.

"Overwatch... confirm status of the central quad. Do we have incoming?" This time, Travis broke the squelch.

"Confirmed clear, Dad. Our cameras caught three hostiles sprinting down one of the eastern classroom breezeways a few seconds ago, but they broke for the perimeter gate and fled south into the residential development. They're completely off the property and well behind your position. We don't see any other movement in the courtyard."

"Copy that," I muttered, rubbing a hand across my face.

"Isadora, bring the van around to the front loop of the school. Right to our position."

"On the way," she replied instantly. The moment the van's tires ground to a halt against the curb, I yanked the sliding door open, unceremoniously stowing my bow and quiver into the van.

"Boys, hover those drones directly over our roof line and keep your lenses locked on the approaches. Let us know the second a single body closes on this block," I ordered, reaching deep into the rear cargo area to grab my heavy rucksack. I turned to look at my eldest son.

"Alex, drop the bow. Grab the Remington tactical shotgun from the rack. We're entirely done playing Dungeons & Dragons tonight." Alex didn't say a word. He simply nodded, exchanged his archery gear for the 12-gauge, and checked the tube magazine. I unzipped my ruck, pulling out my military-issue woobie poncho liner and a fresh spool of 550 para-cord. Stepping over to where Johnny lay on the concrete, I looked down at Joe, whose breathing was still ragged with adrenaline.

"Help me strip his tactical kit," I told him quietly.

"Alex, Pete—hold security on the parking lot." Working in grim, methodical silence, Joe and I unbuckled Johnny's plate carrier, removed his gear belts, and carefully wrapped his remains, securing the poncho liner tight with several lengths of para-cord. Together, we lifted our fallen Paladin into the back of the van. I reached into the vehicle, retrieving my customized AR-15 and snapping a fresh magazine into the well.

Before closing the door, I spotted the unused health potion still tucked into the utility pouch of Johnny's discarded vest; I pulled it free and clipped it straight onto my own chest rig. I looked into the front seat at Isadora.

"Pull the vehicle back to the main parking lot exit. Keep the engine running and stay in standby mode. Same rules apply—if the perimeter goes chaotic, you punch out fast." I slammed the sliding door shut, turning my shoulder back toward the glass entry doors of the administrative office. I looked at Joe, the weight of the night settling heavy on all of us.

"Let's finish this," I said.