Book 4: Chapter 63: The Battle for Hume VII |
Gabriel pointed his sword, forming a perfect sphere of magicka at its tip, and released it as he charged forward on his titled steed. A beam of pure energy blasted from it, slicing everything it hit in two as he charged forward, driving back an entire line of rift creatures. As the orb faded to nothing he adjusted the reins and ran down five horned men, his blade whipping out on either side to kill more that had avoided being trampled. One of the lance-like flying insects flew at him and he batted the sharp tip to the side with his gauntlet, grabbed it by the body, and crushed his grip, tearing a chunk from it and letting it fall dead.
He saw that some of his men were surrounded further afield and he transferred the last of the titles he’d kept in reserve to them as he thundered toward them. A glob of acid was spat at him and he casually redirected it with a curved barrier, having it melt the face of a harpy that was swooping down at him. He reached his men, trampling more rift creatures as he approached them and sending out a blast of lightning from his open hand. The men immediately rallied and with him by their side they quickly made it back to a larger cluster of allies.
As he was about to divert back into the thick of the battle, one of his men was struck by a thrown spear and pierced through the leg. Gabriel pointed his sword toward the enemy and sent out a lance of magicka in response. He turned his horse toward the man who was screaming in pain. He leapt off of it and broke a chunk off the spear with a quick motion before hauling the man up onto his saddle and securing him.
“Take him back to the tents and then return to me.”
The steed neighed in response and then obeyed, leaping back toward the tents.
His dad’s healing had left the battlefield some time ago and the other titled soldiers weren’t enough to keep up the same level of restoration. Even he had a few shallow wounds and a cracked rib that he ignored as he began to move across the battlefield on foot. He saw a yellow flare spell go up from some distance away and began moving toward it. He was faster over short distances without the horse. To those less heavily titled he seemed to vanish and reappear across the battlefield. Taking the head of a chitin-armored warrior, summoning a barrier that a harpy crashed into before she could hit an unsuspecting mage, and cleaving a scorpion in twain.
He reached the flare, finding one of his knights cornered against a stone with a Stent Knight and a Hume mage. They were holding their own well, but taking on the majority of the attackers was a massive knight of gold wielding a claymore. He attacked in wide sweeps with it, occasionally wielding it with only one hand, and whenever he seemed to be overwhelmed he’d use his own body as a weapon, ramming enemies to the side with short tackles. At one point he met a horned-man’s charge with his own skull and claimed victory as it slumped down dead from the impact.
Gabriel moved to join the defenders, and the tide turned immediately. He carved his way through the rift creatures that had surrounded them as if they were made of smoke, casting spells from the tip of his sword and his free hand between each swing until there was enough breathing room that they could keep moving, then he immediately began to move them with him back towards a larger cluster of defenders.
Things were bad. The healing they were receiving was less and less and while they had somehow not broken, the divisions and distance between defenders was growing wider and wider even as the oncoming horde seemed to grow and grow. Just as Gabriel finished escorting the separated soldiers the giant golden warrior that was with them began to flicker.
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“Bom Trabalho, sobrinho,” he said, patting his pauldron once before fading away.
Gabriel stood confused for just a moment before his expression hardened.
Dad
The effects of his blessing were gone. Had something happened? Gabriel looked around, trying to take stock and noticed that the golden figures that had been helping them had all faded. Somehow their forces still hadn’t broken even without their help, but he had no idea how long that would last.
He sent up some signals for his men with quick flares, then turned his attention to the horde. He was tired. Dad had given him a recovery blessing, it was one area in which he could use the help as such blessings were less common, but even with the benefits it provided he had been wearing down. The thought that his dad was in trouble though, the dread that came with that thought brought a sudden manic energy to him.
He charged directly into the enemy in front of him, becoming a blur as he began to utilize all of his speed to push forward, a line of dead creatures and severed limbs left behind him.
Dad be okay.
He slammed his fist through a horned man’s chest, forcing him to slow down. A tail whipped out toward him and he kicked it away before severing it with his sword and pushing through further. He was far afield and completely surrounded, but he was moving too quickly for any of the rift creatures to properly react to him. He channeled more magic into the tip of his sword and carved away at hundreds of them in front of him with a precise laser of magicka before running into the gap he created. The rift was close and he realized that as he got closer the enemy was…thinning. It wasn’t getting harder the closer he got, but easier. He looked at the rippling red scar that tore across the horizon.
Dad. Come back. Please.
Now that he was so far away from his men he let the mask he wore drop completely and let out a roar as he shredded his way through the enemy the remaining distance to the rift. All of his coolness and calm evaporated as he cut through the enemy like a blender as he sent out spells that could shatter castle walls. He was tired, but he needed to make sure his father was okay. He had to bring him back. He’d only just gotten him back.
As he reached the edge of the rift he saw something about it shift. The steady pulse of it began to become unregulated and it began to expand and contract wildly. Gabriel saw the shadow of something massive about to come through. He raised his sword and began to channel his magicka.
Michael stepped through with Marcus, Pyotr, and Ollie at his side. The second he was through, he raised his hand and it began to glow a blinding gold.
Gabriel felt his father’s healing power go across him like a warm breeze and spread out across the battlefield.
On the other side of the horde, all of those soldiers who’d been close to breaking, to running, felt the healing hit them. Severed limbs were restored, broken bones mended, and wounds completely healed. Along with that the weapons they were wielding suddenly caught fire, divine gold flame coating them. They knew what that meant.
Michael saw Gabriel and he immediately ran toward him. Gabriel did the same and they caught one another in a fierce embrace for several seconds, tears welling in their eyes.
“I’m glad you made it back.”
“Me too,” responded Michael.
Behind him several hundred lizardfolk began to emerge as well. They came out in clusters, some of them summoning barriers as they left and a few actually throwing spells at the nearest horned men and insects.
“They’re with me. We need to clear a path for them as they arrive.”
Gabriel nodded, blinking the tears from his eyes as he turned his attention to the rift creatures in front of them. Their rabid attack had completely shifted. Only a few had looked back to see what was happening, though more had looked back as they’d run from the sudden formation of smite across the weapons of the defenders as well as their restored vigor.
Michael stayed back, defending the emerging lizardfolk while Gabriel and his uncles began to fight their way forward along with several very pissed off lizardfolk. Soon the mass of rift creatures realized their situation and began trying to run. Harpies managed it easily, as did the flying insects that had minds, but all those that were grounded were quickly slaughtered the moment they turned their backs.
Once he was certain the last of the lizardfolk were through the portal, Michael raised his attention to the great rift, extending his will across it. He could hear the voice of the gods in his ears again as well as the praise from those across the battlefield that felt his return. He clenched his fist using all the strength they granted him and healed the world.
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