Chương 240: Chapter 471: Counter Offensive

On the front lines, the dwarves had gone from jovial, enjoying a holiday of beer and weapons testing, to slightly worried as the snails kept coming. It was like holding back the tide as the waves got bigger. Target priority was assigned to each gun or bear, ensuring that that the larger guns took down the hardest targets, and every shot counted. If the snails hadn't been so slow, it would have been nearly impossible, but other than the smaller red snails, their advance was best described as 'steady'.

Some clumps would even stall and begin grazing on the thick lichen that covered everything, before suddenly ordering their ranks and moving forward again. Bork was half-way up a wall, using a stolen spy glass to watch the battle. His viewpoint, as one of the shorter races had been obscured by guns, smoke, and piles of dead snails. From here, he could observe the movements of the snails and see what nefarious battle plans they might hatch.

His ledge also put him in a safe spot where he wouldn't be over run by a sudden charge, and he had needed a place to eat the pot of chili that someone had left on a fire in the camp. He'd return it later with a critique of the recipe.

He preferred more cinnamon and muntok peppercorns, although he was acquiring a taste for the Red Zinger Portabella, a type of mushroom that bore a resemblance to the torminosus mushrooms that he imported from China for his new spicy mushroom dish that only Zander and Big Butch would eat with him. It had been a little scary learning to cook from Mama, until she said, "I don't know why all of you geniuses get so spooked when pushed out of your comfort zone.

You'd think people who are whizzes at chemistry would see the similarities." It was like a bomb had gone off in his head, and he began looking at recipes in a different light. They were simplistic, because they assumed the person using them had mastered prior recipes and arcane skills like browning butter or kneading dough. Ingredient quality was important, proper measuring, application of heat in various ways, and giving the components time to react. It wasn't similar to chemistry, it was chemistry!

And he needed to master the basics to understand why he had once again produced a sub-par cheese omelet. Finishing the stew and his critique of the recipe, complete with recommendations for a better flavor on their next try, he began watching the snails as they advanced on the area held by the dwarves, guarding the wide tunnel that led to the lower Myconian caverns. The snails advanced in long lines, naturally tightening their ranks as the area narrowed.

They were gaining ground now, as the dwarves began to conserve ammunition and make every shot count. But it was the activity further out that caught his attention. A group of a dozen slow, heavy battle snails were advancing, a small purple striped snail with them. The smaller snail had a glowing green '13' painted on its shell. The striped snail was fast enough to move around them in circles, bunching them up like a cowboy herding cattle.

If a snail stopped to eat, the herd snail moved to it, bumping it, shooting flame, or screaming at it. It would take that group an hour to get to the front lines, with their slow progress. Elsewhere, he saw other groups of snails coming, also with herders. One little red snail dropped off his group, and raced back to the the heavy vegetation the filled much of the cavern in the distance. The snails weren't quite in position, and took advantage of no one yelling at them to stop and graze.

It was only when the next group came up that they were pushed forward, and began to die under the massed cannon fire. Bork saw Milo coming with several other dwarves, packing an assortment of tools and parts. He decided that walking up with a purloined spyglass he could get away with, but a burrowed chili pot was pushing things.

He tucked the spyglass into a pants pocket much to small to hold it and skidded down the slope of the cavern wall, making his way to Milo's group who were putting the machinery on the table. Before Milo could say anything, he hopped to a chair, then the table, and bent to peruse the items. Milo rolled his eyes and said nothing, holding up a hand.

"Hiya, Milo, you've got some interesting stuff here."

"I do, Bork. But I'm sure you have an idea of what it is."

"Oh, I do. I think this stuff let an old, crusty snail that your sisters killed give orders to all the snails around it and command them in battle." Peenhammer grunted, "A good guess, goblin. But it's a lot more than that." Bork nodded his head.

"Yeah, I think so too. Voice commands and whistles are gonna be in there, but I bet there is a long range communicator as well, for one commander to talk to another. See, I wanted to eat my lunch in peace and not get trampled by big feet so I climbed about four stories high up the cavern wall and diligently spent my lunch hour watching snails. I was wondering if landmines would work, or dropping a chunk of ceiling on them.

But what I noticed were a subset of snails, little speedy ones, herding the cannon fodder into battle. You could just hear their screams of frustration when there was a lull in the firing. It occurs to a clever fellow like me that if you had a coordinated attack plan, complete with messengers and herders, you must have someone at the other end doing the thinking. These idiots you're blowing away would rather graze on lichen than fight.

If only some daring adventurers got rid of the herders and hunted down the officers at the other end, these poor snails could go back to being peaceful herbaceous monstrosities." If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it. Bork paused, then pulled out the spyglass.

"But, what do I know? I'm sure you folks will figure it all out. Thanks to whoever loaned me the spyglass, good thinking on your part." He hopped off the table, and went in search of something else to eat. Milo picked up the spyglass and scampered up the wall, not stopping when the slope became vertical and then curved inward. It only took a few minutes to confirm what Bork had revealed.

It was time to go snail hunting, and luckily, he had an eclectic mix of disposable adventurers he could use to hunt down leaders in enemy territory. Snails, by their nature, were focused on the ground in front of them. Even the varieties with their eyes on long stalks didn't pay much attention to the ceiling of the cavern far above them. If they had, they might have registered a Wind Sister soaring high above them, and giving an airlift to a companion.

Butch was dangling from a rope attached to the back of his weapon harness as Yumi flew high above the snail army, looking for their target. Butch saw the fast moving striped snail with the number 13 on its side and pointed it out to his transport crew.

"There it is, drop me on top of it, and I'll handle the rest." She made no move to descend.

"Not yet. It's turning and running around that pack of snails. That makes it a tough target, and it has a lot of help if you don't land right on top of it. Let's wait for it to head back." Butch looked at how fast the snail was moving, and compared that to their pace of flight.

"Can you catch it? Not to be picky but it's moving pretty quick, and there is no way in hell my short legs can run it down." Yumi laughed, "I can catch it even if it triples that speed. I've been hauling you this whole time, and gaining altitude. Even a long glide will pick up enough speed to drop you right on top of it. It's not getting away."

"You're the expert. And look, it's dropped off the latest herd and is heading back, we can take it out now. SHIT!" She started a fast dive down toward the retreating snail, Butch dangling beneath her, holding his oversized hammer. (Normal for most orcs, but gigantic for a gnome.) From off to the left, a similar colored snail came racing up to the first, and they began traveling together, yelling at each other in a disjointed conversation. Butch grinned.

"Two of them. Let's take them both out! Drop me on one of them, and chase the other one while I dent it's shell." Yumi didn't reply, and Butch felt his stomach do flipflop as she folded her wings and they dropped rapidly, gaining speed and catching up to where the two snails were traveling side by side by side. As he'd asked, she dumped him right on top of the first snail. The snail tried to run off, but Butch was perched on its back.

Someday, a snail will learn to buck or roll, but until then, they made for a steady ride. Butch had counted on this, as he pulled his backpack off and set it on the snails back. Grinning, he swung back his hammer and shouted, "Moment of Glory!" The hammer came down on the backpack of borrowed cataclysmite, his hammer blow and the explosion cracking the snail's shell and igniting the explosive glands that provided both fire and speed.

The fireball destroyed the snail, shattered the hammer, and sent the gnome warrior flying through the air. Yumi's mind noticed the fireball, but she was concentrating on her own attack. Her momentum shot her past the snails, and she turned sharply, heading for the ceiling again. As gravity slowed her, she looped back around and dove sharply again. As Butch had said, the second had separated from the first, running in a different direction.

She dove straight at it, spear extended in front of her, skewering it through the head. The snail screamed, and so did Yumi, " Whirlwind strike." A small tornado formed at the tip of her spear, and blenderized the snail's head, sending gore in all directions. The body came to a halt. The body of a burnt and broken gnome landed a few feet away, slamming hard into the ground. Yumi shook her head and walked over to look.

"How the hell are you still alive? That was awesome and stupid at the same time." Butch couldn't move, everything hurt." Moment of Glory! gives me extra damage and 80% immunity to damage for five seconds. It wore off while I was in midair. Think I broke both of my legs, but I'm not sure. I can't feel them. Are they still there."

"They are. Short, stubby, and bent in directions they aren't supposed to go." From nearby, several snails screamed, and began heading their way. Butch groaned, "Just leave me. I'll be back in a couple of days."

"Nope. I want the experience for the daring rescue of a wounded comrade, and I'm sure Gendifur would like another patient to torture with needles and iodine. You'll have to endure the trip back." He groaned in pain as she checked the tow line was still secure and leaped into the air, jerking him off the ground, swinging behind her, screaming loud enough that the nearby snails were startled and retreated into their shells. All except one.

That snail, a large battle snail with a battered shell was making its way through the unattended herds of snails now milling about. For such a large snail, it moved fast, its head jerking back and forth as it moved. Butch got a glimpse of it as he dangled beneath Yumi, heading back to base. He grinned through the pain and gave a thumbs up sign. Beneath him, the 'snail' kept moving to the rear of the battle, leaving distinct paw prints in the lichen as it moved along.