Chapter 262 - Breaking the Gates

Been really enjoying writing the last few chapters. I've already finished the next one and I'm really pleased with how things are coming together. First time I've had a backlog for as long as I remember lol.

Celaine stood atop the battlements, her gaze unwavering as hunters emerged like shadows from the depths of the forest, racing across the bogland toward the fort. The heavens themselves seemed to take notice as the clouds parted above, and a cascade of sunlight broke through, driving back the lingering darkness woven by the lich. The chant of her people came with it, sung in time with the Drums of the Hunt that still beat in her spirit.

More than a thousand of Drakalyn’s hunters surged forward, howling and roaring with battle hunger. They sprinted with bows in hand, moving as one with their squads. Others carried siege equipment—ladders, large portable barricades, and barrels of arrows. She spotted Vamir amongst them, running with a speed that even more powerful Chosen would struggle to match. The wildness he so rarely let loose shone in his eyes as he charged, gliding across the bogland like forest fae.

“Hunters! Hunters are coming!” Celaine's voice pierced the clammer of battle.

“I’m going for the gates!” Hump called back. “Keep them off me.”

“Got it,” Celaine said.

Another spectre closed in on Hump as she turned back to the fight. She drew back her bowstring, manifesting an arrow of shadow upon it. Her eyes were drawn to its core. A tiny spot of essence that gleamed red to her Relentless Pursuit, its vital organ clear as day to her. She breathed, seeing every sway of its body, every turn it made as it flew. It felt as if she had all the time in the world.

She loosed, her arrow flying straight and true, piercing the spectre and shattering its core. It died silently. Its body faded into ethereal light, dissipating into mist and then even the mist was gone.

More undead came. She focused on protecting her allies, mostly picking off flyers that attempted to flank or attack from other awkward angles.

All the while, a storm thundered above. She stole glimpses of Yunillia’s battle with the lich’s underlings, but the core of their fight was concealed by her domain. Still, Celaine sensed the power emanating from within. Essence weighed down on the entire courtyard, and occasionally the aftermath of blessings or magic reached them on the ground.

Through it, Celaine spotted the wraith the skeleton general had called Shadowblade phasing through the stone walls of the corridor they were in earlier. The creature had vanished when Yunillia had leapt up to the keep.

Celaine readied an arrow. Unlike the other spectres and spirits, this one was somehow different. To her Relentless Pursuit, its core was smaller and denser. Instinctively she sensed this creature was more powerful than the others.

Pulling back her bowstring, she called upon her Power Shot blessing. Owalyn’s boon came to her in a flood, and silver exploded in the arrowhead before her. She aimed, watching as the creature fully emerged, focusing on its core.

She let the arrow fly.

The moment it left her bow, the wraith looked her way, its head creating a mist as it turned so fast she was left momentarily stunned. Dread crept up on her. Instincts told her she’d messed up, but she didn’t yet know why.

Shadowblade launched itself from the keep walls, phasing just as the arrow struck. Half its spiritual form was destroyed by the arrow in an instant, but its upper body continued downward into the keep, its long knife outstretched. An explosion of silver shook the keep, sending rock pieces showering through the spirit.

Celaine readied another bow, launching it in a heartbeat.

This time, the wraith vanished. She searched for it, arrow ready, eyes wide and desperate. That dread just kept building.

It appeared in the middle of Leif’s squad, right behind Ardrell. The shaman was defenceless as she maintained her healing blessing. She didn’t see the knife as it pierced her back. Her eyes widened. Her mouth fell open in a silent scream.

The blade emerged through her chest, piercing straight through the heart and ribs.

“No!” Celaine roared. Essence exploded through her, the power of Owalyn like new fire in her blood, fuelling her arrow. Silver light and shadow burst out from the shaft and feathers, pouring into the air around her. The arrow flew straight and true.

The spirit phased, but this time it was too slow. The arrow crossed the distance with unnatural speed, piercing its core and shattering its body in a puff of ethereal essence.

“Ardrell!” Leif cried.

The others gathered around her, forming a wall of bodies. Zenith rushed to her side, a vial of something already in his hand that he poured into her mouth. He was shouting, screaming for her to wake up.

Come on, Celaine thought. Please!

Ardrell’s healing veil faded as life left her. No amount of pleading could mend a knife through the heart.

Celaine bit her teeth together hard, feeling them grind against each other in her fury. I did this. I failed. I—

She drew another arrow, furious at herself. Furious at the undead that had invaded her land. All that hatred went into her bow. She drew upon the shadows of the lich’s own creation, drawing them to her. As she nocked her next arrow, six more replicas formed around her bow. She loosed them all at once, readying another volley without rest even as she sensed the drain the spell took on her. Shot after shot, she felled the undead hordes.

***

An arrow caught Hump in the shoulder. It knocked the wind from him but failed to pierce his battle robes. There had been a few already, but each time Ardrell’s healing fixed him up swiftly.

No more. The moment the healing aura faded, Hump knew their healer was dead.

Celaine’s desperate cry pierced his heart. He sensed her anger as she launched arrow after arrow into the enemy lines, power raging from her like he’d never seen it as arrows of shadow formed in the air around her. Silver and black formed wavy streaks in the air, blasting her arrows forward with blinding speed as the shadow arrows followed.

With their healer down, it was only a matter of time before they were all picked off. They needed reinforcements. The gates had to come down.

Hump’s eyes narrowed as he studied the great wooden gates, uncertainty clawing at his confidence. Could he really bring them down?

They were old, sturdy, and enhanced with ancient runes. Not ideal, but they were designed to defend against enemies attacking from outside.

Hump took aim and concentrated, drawing upon the lava of the ruined runestone beside him. He sculpted it into a seething orb of molten red, a reservoir of raw power that only became denser. He’d experimented a few times with a similar method, using premade lava to empower his magic, but never on such a scale. This time, it had to be big. Fortunately, Owalyn’s boon gave him the essence he needed to make it happen. Where his control might usually waver, now sheer power would be enough to overcome the natural fiery intent of lava.

Another arrow struck the ground near him, but he ignored it. His focus remained solely on his mission. Celaine and the others would cover him, all he needed to do was destroy the gate.

He compressed the ball before him, hardening it into something semi solid, until it was half the size. It wasn’t enough. He refined his essence, forcing more and more into the same space, pressing the ball of molten rock tighter together. Bronze and red tendrils of power exploded, but Hump fought to control it, willing it to remain together even as it fought to break free. Suddenly, the rock shrunk, collapsing in on itself until it was no bigger than a head. He held out his free left hand, turning it slowly as he willed it into a spike.

His hands trembled as he forged the stone into something bronze hot, glowing with a sheen like super-heated metal. As the pressure built to a crescendo, Hump’s voice boomed across the battlefield—a command that resonated with pure, unbridled power.

“Molten Stone!”

Time seemed to stand still for an instant, and then the world exploded with light as the stone hurled forward on a searing jet of fire and bronze. It struck the gates like a cataclysmic force, rending them apart with a deafening boom. Hump raised an arm to shield his face as dust and debris blasted past him. The gates crumbled, one of them flying from its hinges and crashing to the ground outside with a thunderous thud.

Hump peered out through the dust and breathed deeply, as cold lanced through him. His blood boiled and Owalyn’s power washed over him, pressing back the cold. There was still a lot of fight left in him.

As he turned back to the fight, he caught a glimpse of himself in a fallen shield, his right eye shining red. He’d let the dragon in his blood out again.

***

Vamir’s heart pounded as he dashed across the marshland toward Highgaze Fort, every stride a fluid dance over soggy ground. The Drums of the Hunt beat in his ears, urging him onward. Above, the sky opened, and sunlight warmed his face. It had taken more than thirty shamans to tear apart even a part of the lich’s darkness, but they’d done it.

And then he saw Celaine atop the walls, a spectacle of silver and shadow as she poured arrows into the army before her. His breath came easier knowing she was alright.

“A good day to fight, wouldn’t you say Kelec?” Vamir said cheerfully.

“Only if you’re on our side,” the lad grinned back.

Vamir would keep them alive. They were still his students, even if they’d long since left his ranks.

Lightning arched over the keep, a manifestation of the Stormcaller’s battle rage. Vamir spotted a grotesque, green demon escape Yunillia’s domain and stare down at them. Its face broke into a rotten grin as an eerie green sludge oozed from its skin, evaporating into a miasma that shrouded the wall before it and slowly seeped to the ground.

“Arrows!” Elder Ashera shouted. “Form a line of barricades along the line here! Grapplers, move up and reinforce the walls. Ladders, get yourselves attached on north wall, where Yunillia’s hunters have already secured.”

They were well within range now. Close enough Vamir could have shot an apple off Celaine’s head as she fought on the walls. This demon was far larger than that. Vamir aimed for its pudgy little face and loosed. Their volley blotted out the sky, curving as one in the air as they fell upon the undead forces.

His arrow struck, piercing the demon through the eye and sending it squealing. Yet it only released more miasma, even as it furiously plucked the arrow from its eye. Skeleton archers shot back, their arrows poor at such a distance, lacking the strength or the equipment to fight at such range. A shadow streaked through the air. Something large and heading straight at him. Vamir swept to the side, clearing back his hunters as a giant, ballista sized arrow smashed into the ground.

Vamir blinked at it. “I think we may have upset someone.”

Vamir dodged as another arrow skirted past his face, then loosed again. To the right, his fellow blooded trainer, Marisa, led her squad up to the wall. He shot up at those trying to stop them, as the hunters threw grappling hooks up onto the wall.

A number of his fellow brothers and sisters were slain. Hunters of Drakalyn, gone just like that. The wraiths flew amongst them, quick and terrifyingly deadly.

Yet still the hunters climbed. The gates had to be opened. They had to—

Something drew his eye to the gates. Light flared beyond it. Not just Yunillia’s storm now, but a red glow. No. Not just red, Vamir recognised that bronze light!

“Molten Stone!” came a voice, deep and thunderous, and filled with killing intent that made Vamir catch his breath, as if Owalyn herself had come before them.

A deafening boom reverberated through the air, accompanied by a blinding flash. The fortress gates blasted open in an explosion of fire and stone that rent them asunder.

For a suspended moment, Vamir and his squad stared in silence, their eyes fixed on the chaos before them. The dust cleared, and it was the glint of a single crimson eye that Vamir discerned first.

It was Hump.

The lad stood there with his staff still aimed at the shattered gates. His pale green cloak billowed about him and a purple aura enveloped him, making Vamir feel as if he were gazing upon a dragon made manifest.

This was the power of the White Flame he’d heard so much about.

Vamir raised his bow high over his head, punching at the air and roaring. Around him, the hunters joined the primal chorus, their shouts echoing through the battlefield. Then he cast aside his bow. All this fighting at range had never been his thing. He wanted to be in there, sweeping through the battlefield like a wraith. His life balanced upon the edge of a blade.

The moment had come to draw his sword. He reached for the power in his core, and felt it surge through him in answer—a wellspring of energy unlike anything he had ever experienced. Owalyn's radiant light coursed through him, casting his sword into shimmering silver as he charged through the breached gates.

This was war, and Vamir and his fellow hunters were its vengeful, unstoppable harbingers.

***

Hump formed ranks with Ado, Leif and the others. Hump raised his staff, essence sweeping out from it.

“Shield,” he barked, imagining the barrier doming around their left flank where the majority of the undead force remained. Arrows and fire struck his spell and he gritted his teeth, throwing more essence into it. He wouldn’t be able to maintain it long even with Owalyn’s boon, but at least for now he could free up the others to focus on the melee.

All around them, the lich’s army fell from the walls, devastated by the archer fire from beyond. It felt like ages had passed when the first hunters rushed through the gates, coming to join their line in the courtyard.

Far behind him, wolf dragons roared in unison. Hump glanced over his shoulder to see them sweeping through the sky, approaching the walls with breathtaking speed. There were dozens of them, led by a few keepers and their bonded.

Fire built in the back of their throats as they passed overhead, and then it rained upon the fort.