Book 2: Chapter 44.1: Army |
In Ashville’s town hall…
After David helped them break the curses, life improved. It wasn’t perfect, and the scars left behind by the bandits would probably never heal, but Lukas was confident everything would be alright—if they worked hard to ensure nobody could deprive them of freedom again.
They needed strength, whether in numbers or individual prowess.
Thus, he chose to work on both quality and quantity. Lukas ensured everyone was given the opportunity to pick their Basic Class. They hunted monsters, mutilated some until they could no longer move, and dragged them to the elderly. If someone needed help killing a monster, they received it.
And while they did not force anyone to kill, Lukas made it clear that the bandits—those who had cursed them—might return at any moment. Nobody knew what awaited them.
Weeks of tireless work, attempts to gather the community, and efforts to rally everyone against a common enemy had finally paid off. But now… now, everything seemed to crumble. All of a sudden, the bright future he had envisioned was falling apart.
“What do you think?” Zora asked, her voice no more than a whisper in his ears. Her feet tapped the wooden floor relentlessly, breaking his train of thought.
“About the dwarves’ offer? The offer is good. Too good to be true,” Lukas said, nibbling on his lower lip.
He leaned over a map showing Ashville and the surrounding towns, his voice laced with mockery as he added, “I don’t like it, though. Why would they invite us to their well-defended Sanctuary and offer us lodging, armaments, and Skill Runes for nothing in return? Nothing is free. They’ll demand something eventually, and we’ll have to pay—with interest, of course.”
Why am I with her again? Has there been a single day without at least half a dozen complaints from her since the integration? Lukas wondered, looking up from the map. For the first time in years, he stared deep into his girlfriend’s eyes, trying to recall what had once charmed him.
“Die?” Lukas frowned at her. “I know we’re talking about two, maybe three thousand monsters coming this way, but we have close to 1,500 Mages, many of whom have already advanced to the Bronze Rank, and almost as many Warriors and Hunters. The Mages and Hunters can release three, maybe four barrages of attacks before melee begins. By that time, the Warriors will have the numerical advantage. The Clerics will strengthen them, and so will the Mages and Hunters. We’ll hunt the monsters one by one, exploiting our numbers.”
“Are you sure this will work? What if magical projectiles at the 1st Tier aren’t enough to cut down the monsters’ numbers?” Zora asked hesitantly. “We haven’t had issues with monsters in a while now. Isn’t it weird that so many are heading this way suddenly? How about we ask—”
“Shut up!” Lukas hissed, jumping to his feet. “We will not ask Maja for help, and we will definitely not request reinforcements from the Dwarven Sanctuary! Ashville will survive without anyone’s help!”
Zora flinched and pulled back but nodded. Her lips parted, but Lukas gestured for her to remain silent.
“Gather the Clerics. I hope we won’t need them later, but we should prepare for the worst-case scenario,” Lukas ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
He didn’t look at Zora anymore, only listening to her leave the room as he turned to his other friends. The way they looked at him irked Lukas, but he could deal with that once the monsters were no more.
“Has everything been prepared?” he asked, and they nodded in unison.
“Two Scouts are still missing. They’re probably dead,” a middle-aged man named Jeron shrugged as he added, “but the others returned with bad news. The Horde won’t pass us by a few hundred meters. They’re heading straight for us.”
“The Mages and Hunters have already shifted positions and are in formation according to the latest information,” Oliver said curtly.
“The Warriors are ready to rumble. They’re itching for blood,” Peter snickered, bringing a smile to Lukas’ face. Even now, Peter could joke. That was why he liked the odd Berserker so much.
Lukas nodded slowly, turning to Jeron. “What’s with the fog?”
According to reports, the monsters were either shrouded in a dense, green fog or exuded it naturally. One way or another, it engulfed the Horde, making it harder to gather information.
“One of the Scouts got too close to the Horde and collapsed from illness. The Cleric tending to him said he was poisoned.”
That wasn’t good. It was fair to assume the fog was poisonous. Maybe the situation wasn’t as simple as he had initially thought.
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“Okay… We’ll adjust the strategy on the go,” Lukas said, heading for the door. “This is just a minor inconvenience.”
***
His friends trembled as they stared at the expansive cloud closing in on Ashville, and Lukas couldn’t blame them. It was a horrifying sight to behold. The fog, green and dense, spread far and wide. Its confirmed poisonous properties made it a great danger that could swallow Ashville instantly. But the greatest threat wasn’t the poisonous fog. The glowing dots piercing through the sickly green mist—presumably monster eyes—posed the true danger.
They couldn’t see the monsters clearly, making it unnecessarily difficult to gauge their numbers or distinguish them. The Scouts had made a solid estimate, while the women with the Secondary Classes, Strategist and Monstrologist, struggled to determine the most effective way to defeat the horde.
“Have the Mages release fireballs,” Lukas ordered. Perhaps the fireballs could disperse the poisonous fog. He didn’t think it would be that easy, but he would be happy if he were wrong—for once.
Oliver was shaking, but he complied, conjuring a small fireball in the sky and shaping it into a blazing ‘C.’ Within seconds, fireballs materialized along Ashville’s outskirts. Hundreds, possibly over a thousand, hovered in the air, but something else caught Lukas’ attention—smaller flames flickering near the fireballs.
Right, the Hunters, he thought, his attention drifting back to the ceaselessly approaching horde as the fireballs and flame-wreathed arrows whistled through the air. The scenery was breathtaking—orange-red streaks drenched the sky as they hurtled toward the poisonous fog in graceful arcs.
Lukas grinned as the first fireball reached its target. One of the largest, it struck the fog well ahead of the others. However, instead of piercing through and exploding on impact with a monster or the ground, it burst apart prematurely. Blazing flames raced outward, burning through the green mist before dispersing entirely.
The flames roared, briefly revealing a handful of ferocious creatures, but more poisonous fog rushed in before the remaining fireballs and arrows struck. The sickly green mist transformed into an orange sea of fire as the Mages’ flames burned hot and wild, but while the fire was fierce, it was also short-lived. The flames died down, revealing the horrors lurking within, and before long, the fog returned.
Yet, the fog reformed almost instantly, thickening again before the second barrage of fireballs could land.
The second barrage followed shortly, and so did the third.
By the fourth, several Mages were already drained. However, the poisonous fog still lingered. It was thinner, revealing the horde in its full glory, but it hadn’t vanished. And it would harm the melee fighters, Lukas thought grimly. Whether the fog was thick or thin didn’t matter at this point. Perhaps the poison wouldn’t affect the fighters immediately now that they had thinned it out, but Lukas was certain it would take its toll regardless.
“We’ll need them,” Lukas told his subordinates—his friends—before sighing. “And tell the Mages and Hunters to change tactics. I don’t think they can thin it out any further—not without killing some monsters.”
“If they are the source of the fog,” Oliver added.
Lukas glared at him but nodded. “If they’re the source of all this, decimating them will solve the problem.”
Even so, Lukas knew the tides of battle had already shifted. Almost none of the horde had died from the relentless barrage of fireballs and flame-wreathed arrows, and the creatures were now closing in on the first line of defense.
“The traps have to kill a few hundred,” Jeron muttered beside him, clenching his fists. The arrogance he usually carried—the way he flaunted his ‘superiority’—had vanished. Not a trace of it remained in the face of the horde. Regardless, he was right.
Lukas groaned as the monsters reached the first line of defense, unfazed even as the ground beneath them opened up. Several creatures fell into pits, while others were hurled through the air. Explosions erupted beneath their feet, yet the horde continued forward.
“Only a dozen kill notifications.” Jeron shuddered.
That was bad. Jeron had contributed to setting up a fourth of the traps. Even if the system wouldn’t give him full credit for the kills, it would still notify him of his contributions.
With only a dozen dead, Lukas nibbled on his lower lip and unsheathed his sword. “Peter.”
“Finally!” Peter grinned as a massive double-headed axe materialized in his hands. He let out a husky chuckle, flashing Lukas a wild smile. “You shouldn’t play with my feelings like this!”
Play with his feelings? Lukas scoffed inwardly and motioned for Peter to move.
“Gather the Warriors. We’re moving out.”
Jeron and the others followed, but Lukas ushered Jeron and the Hunters who specialized in traps to speak with the Strategist and Monstrologist first. Since they had received kill notifications, they had also learned the names of the monsters they’d slain. It might not shift the tide of battle, but gaining insight into the enemy’s weaknesses could increase their chances of survival.
The melee fighters gathered outside Ashville while arrows channeled with Aether and magical projectiles whisked toward the approaching horde. The Horde’s pace was surprisingly slow, but that played into their hands.
The slower they were, the longer they remained exposed to the Hunters and Mages, Lukas thought, smiling as the monsters fell. They crossed the second line of defense, and he heard some Hunters shout how many monsters had died in his traps. Lukas organized the intel, but it felt like his mind refused to form a tactic to obliterate the horde.
Had he been too confident in their power? Should they have accepted the dwarves’ offer? Lukas wondered suddenly as he studied the monsters. The Strategist and Monstrologist rushed to him, but their voices barely registered in his ears.
Finally, he had to make a move. He ushered Peter and the others to follow him, shouting aloud using [Roar of War]. The frightened melee fighters around him tensed, but their expressions soon lit up. The fear carved into their features eased.
“Work together to take down your enemies. They may seem strong, but you’re stronger. I know that. Believe in yourself. Believe in me!” Lukas shouted at the top of his lungs, grinning as a surge of power filled him.
It was so simple. Trust. Loyalty. Belief.
That was all Lukas needed to grow stronger. The more his people believed in him, the stronger the effects of his Legacy Skill.
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