Chương 21: Revel

Her breathing was shallow and rapid. She had forgotten to breathe again. It was getting harder to concentrate—seven different battles, twelve friendlies she had to avoid. And they weren't helping, running around the trolls and breaking any sense of order. Something that should have been as simple as breathing… well, she was having trouble with the breathing part. One of them was already dead. And the battle had just begun. Clay dodged the troll's swings.

Each strike shook the ground, leaving craters larger than a her. Her heart hammered. She had to do something to help him. Sir William, the knight beside him, drove his spear into the beast and pinned it in place. Her chance. She chanted, calling to the lord of the underworld.

"... Shadow Chains." The troll pulled back its hand to strike. She focused and sent the chains toward it. They coiled around the limb, locking it in place—just long enough. Clay slipped behind it. The chains shattered, and her mana drained. A cold sweat broke across her skin. The beast was already dead. Sir William stood over it. She allowed herself to exhale before finding another target. An enraged troll swung mindlessly around him, but the knights evaded every blow with ease.

The beast stopped and stared at them, its eyes burning red. Then it roared and turned, charging toward another group. She froze. She had to do something, or it would hit them from the side. Her mind raced, but nothing came. Too far for Shadow Chains. Too far for most of her spells. There were two that could reach it. They wouldn't do anything to a troll that size. She looked at Dareth, hoping he was aware of the peril they were in. He stood a few meters away from her, his posture relaxed.

There was no tension in him. He muttered something, but she didn't hear it. He moved his hand and opened his fingers. She felt the mana stir around him. Her gaze shifted toward the troll as an ice wall rose from the ground. It was taller than her, and the beast stumbled over it, crashing to the ground. Her eyes went wide as she saw the ice pierce through its head, blood pooling beneath it. It was dead. And Dareth had killed it. She pushed the thought away. There was no time to dwell on it.

The others were still fighting. She quickly found her target. The beast was already wounded, and the knights kept their distance, searching for an opening without risking their lives. She decided to give them one. Her mind went back to the ice wall that had tripped the troll. The beast was charging toward the knights. The path for her spell was clear, so she chanted. The shadow chains appeared before the beast. Four of them. They wrapped around each other, tightening, strengthening.

The beast tripped over them, just as it had over Dareth's ice wall. A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation. Her mouth parted slightly before she realized it. She was smiling. The knights killed it quickly and moved toward the last beast before she could even think about it. It fell to the ground, half its head missing. They had won. And it hadn't even been a fight. Lord Edrin's knights were too strong. Elites.

They were weaker than the elites of her family, but that was expected. They were constantly at war with corruption. You either died or grew stronger. There was no in-between on the Northern front. That brought her unpleasant memories. Of loss. Of her brother's courage. There was no time for it. Letting unnecessary thoughts roam was how you died in the North. She shook her head as she heard her father's voice.

"Focus on the mission, for the future of our family." Her smile vanished.

"Formation," Edrin shouted. Trolls, orcs, goblins… poured out of the forest. Hundreds.

"Fuck," the word left her mouth involuntarily. They were done. There was no chance they could survive that many. Her mind spun, but there was nothing she could do. She glanced at the knights. They were already in formation, waiting for the enemies to reach them. Should she run? She could escape. The knights and Clay would cover her retreat. It would give her enough time. The question lingered in her mind. Her father's words echoed. The mission.

"The mission," she muttered. Her hands clenched. Her brother's face surfaced in her mind. For a moment, everything else faded. No. She couldn't leave her party. She couldn't. At least they would cripple another wave headed for the village. The light was gone, replaced by shadow. She snapped to the sky. A cloud was forming slowly. Mana. The cloud was forming from mana. Dareth was the only other mage here. Her gaze shifted to him. He was laughing, a wide grin on his face. His stance relaxed, his hands loose.

She didn't understand it. Was this his way of handling the crisis they were in? She glanced back at the clouds. Something was falling from them. Ice. Countless shards of ice fell from the sky. Her gaze followed them. They struck the ground and vanished into it. No. They pierced through it. She lifted her head and saw the carnage unfolding among the monsters. The troll was riddled with shards in seconds. It dropped to its knees, writhing—then went still.

The ground around it was torn apart, riddled with holes where the shards had struck. Nothing moved where the cloud touched. An orc was lucky enough to escape the cloud, but the others weren't. Dozens had already died. The orc stumbled out of the spell, its movements uneven, a strained squeal escaping its throat. Blood flowed from wounds all over its body.

"Ice Spear," she heard Dareth's voice. An ice spear struck the orc in the chest, ending its life. Everyone was staring at Dareth as he laughed maniacally. The spell was far beyond what he should be able to cast. The monsters were still dying. The cloud covered part of the forest they had come from. They were being slaughtered. She needed to know the spell's tier. Spell Appraisal. She could cast it. The incantation was the same—she only needed to call upon another aspect of the lord of the underworld.

Guardian of cattle. Lord of magic. Keeper of hidden knowledge.

"Lord of the underworld, lord of magic and hidden knowledge. Heed my call. Spell Appraisal," she muttered, focusing the spell on the cloud. The blessing answered. [Spell Appraisal:] Tier 5. Her breath caught. The high mages in her land couldn't do anything close to this with only a tier five spell. How? How was that a Tier 5 spell? It didn't make sense. Dareth could cast healing magic as a mage. Cast powerful spells without a staff. What was he? Questions flooded her mind.

The mission would be a lot more valuable if she succeeded. This changed everything. His face went pale. The smile faded, and he cleared his throat.

"I overdid it." The cloud thinned, then broke apart. The last shards of ice fell onto the ground, leaving only silence behind. She wanted to ask him. To get answers. But more monsters flooded from the woods. Hundreds were already dead. And still, more came. She clenched her hand around her staff and moved toward the knights. At least now they could win. Dareth had already killed most of them. No. He had decimated them. Moments later, the monsters crashed into the shield wall. The fight didn't last long.

She only cast three spells before it ended. The trolls—the ones that made the fight harder—fell to Dareth. The orcs took longer, but not by much. Soon, everyone stood in the middle of the clearing, their gazes fixed on Dareth. He stood there awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

"What?" he asked, as if nothing had happened.