Chapter 424 - Should Have Before

Max, Guard Captain of Smoothrock

Smoothrock

Death rained from the sky in the form of a giant hammer. It killed indiscriminately and utterly. Max could only watch as his men, some of whom were friends, exploded from an unseen force.

Some weren’t even hit by the swing, but they died all the same.

It was futile. All of it was futile.

What was the point of resisting if one swing ended your existence? What was the point if an errant breeze from the swing ripped you limb from limb? Frozen blood fell on the area in a mockery of what he’d once enjoyed. Every Canadian had a fondness for snow, but this was just cruel.

When Max had first heard that Frostheim was coming, he hadn’t thought that much of it. Will had said they would get help from the east. That Lord Clairemont would send someone to take care of things before they ever reached Smoothrock’s walls.

That had been a lie.

When the army had stationed itself outside the walls and declared that the city had been under siege, he had expected Will to surrender. Sure, Smoothrock had the numbers, but even the least informed of them knew of the Lord of Frost and what he could do.

You didn’t live that close to someone like that and not know about him.

Will had insisted help would come. When doubts grew, Will smothered them with a heavy hand. There weren’t many people who could do anything about it, with him being the strongest person within the city’s walls.

Then, when Spring reversed to Winter, and snow fell from the sky and a cold deeper than any winter day assaulted the city, Will refused to admit defeat. When stones rained down, he refused to admit it was over.

When the giant jumped over the wall and dispensed death like he was the reaper himself, Max finally thought Will would come to his senses.

Their Lord did not.

He refused all the way up to the point a hammer fell from the sky and flattened him into the ground. He died with a dozen others who had been standing close to the impact sight, and all fared the same. Even for someone as strong as Will, he ended up mangled and crushed.

Seeing Will die, Max froze.

He wasn’t sure what to do. He had defended the city because he had been ordered to, even against his better judgment. It was his duty. He’d done it for years. Max stood against every Settlement Wave and even fought against a small host of Demons for the city.

He rode south and fought blight-infested Orcs.

Yet in the face of certain death, Max froze.

The Lord of Frost stepped out of the impact sight none the worse for wear and wielded his hammer with an ease unfitting for something that large. Now that he was up close, Max had to look up at the towering man covered in frost. He towered over the battle in more ways than one.

Max turned right to see more of his friends being cut down by a shifting suit of armor. Metal weaved into any shape necessary for the moment, bringing death to anyone who stood against it. It wasn’t the overwhelming force of pure strength, but it ended in the same result.

With your blood sprayed onto the ground to color the snow.

Up above, guards fell from the wall with sickening thuds and cracks. The best fate was those who were already dead before they hit the ground.

Max couldn’t muster up the courage to raise his sword.

Instead, it clattered to the ground along with his shield. He raised his hands, hoping for mercy. “I surrender!” He shouted, like they should have done from the beginning, before cowering from the stones raining down. Before suffering through the coldest week many of them had ever experienced. Before so many of his friends died.

The din of battle drowned out his words, so he shouted at his men, “Stop fighting! It's over! Lay down your swords!”

Like they had been ready for this moment, the fighting stopped nearly instantly. Swords, axes, and shields clattered to the ground one after another, and the riotous din of battle lowered until only a few last clangs could be heard.

Death bored its gaze into him with disapproval, “Where’s your leader?”

The voice was rough, but demanded to be answered. Max tried to control his instinctual shaking at being the direct attention of someone who could kill him with a light flick.

Not trusting his voice, Max pointed to the impact sight where a dozen lay dead.

The Lord of Frost turned, and Max felt like a mountain had been lifted off his shoulders, only for it to return as the man’s attention returned.

“Who’s next in line?” He asked, seeing that his query was already deceased.

Dread settled in Max’s gut, “Um- uh… I am?”

Smoothrock didn’t have that large a political structure. Will was the pylon owner and administrator, while Max was the Guard Captain. The pylon wasn’t high enough for much more than that.

Will wasn’t even a Lord in the true sense. He hadn’t received the Baron title yet, as he was waiting for reinforcements before initiating the upgrade. It wasn’t like it used to be, where a few D-ranks were enough to face the wave. Not that he would ever get it now.

“Good enough,” the warrior said, “Gather the regular citizens and help calm things down. I don’t want to do any more damage than I already have.”

Max looked around at the shattered buildings from the bombardment, the hundreds of dead, and the ruined wall that had taken them months to build and enchant.

He said nothing except, “Whatever you need.”

__

Chris

Finding my next target already dead was a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. It beat chasing him around the city with the amount of collateral damage that came with it.

It was a bit disappointing that the fight hadn’t been worthy. I hadn’t even known who the leader was, and he hadn’t stood out in any way. My aura sense wasn’t the best now that it was missing a pillar, making it up, but it was still good enough for general power senses, and the man hadn’t stood out.

I had come expecting a fight like the one I’d had with Tasunka or Robert. Both of those had been challenging in a satisfying way.

This one was not, but I didn’t have time to dwell on that long.

The battle hadn’t even been long enough for the backline to enter the city yet. There were still Warriors making their way through the breach. The plan had been for the Mages and Rangers to run up the tower and use the walls against the city, not that it ever came to pass.

Hal and Abigail were still outside, leaving me to deal with most of this mess.

Thankfully, getting the fighting to stop and rein everyone in was surprisingly easy. The fight had left the defenders, and it didn’t appear like it would be coming back anytime soon. While I was sure there were still some Oathbound who wanted to continue, they refrained.

Smoothrock’s Healers got to work not long after, and our own streamed in through the gap in the walls as well. Not many on our side were injured, but it wasn’t like Faction affiliation mattered at this point. Healers on both sides got to work on everyone, no matter which side they were on.

While they did that, I got Killian and his team to start searching the city. I doubted Ryan was here, but it didn’t hurt to be thorough.

When Abigail arrived, she started taking over most of the coordinating, leaving me to find the pylon. It wasn’t the most time-pressing issue, but gaining control over it now was something I could do other than standing around doing nothing.

I knew from experience that my presence invoked fear. I’d gotten looks and stares after Lakeshore, and sometimes being there personally made things worse rather than better. I’d have to help smooth things out later, but now wasn’t exactly the best time.

The pylon was in the basement of one of the nicest houses in the city. Similar to Marcus, the leader here didn’t feel the need for a defensive keep or citadel. Instead, preferring a nice mansion. I found it odd, but I hadn’t built it.

~~
Pylon Claimed:
Smoothrock has been added to your Faction.
~~

The land shifted ownership to our Faction, and those with the right skills could now begin their work, figuring out what we were left with. Abigail had a few that would help, along with Sophia and Grace.

After claiming the pylon, there wasn’t much for me to do. My job had been to take the city, and that part was done. I could hunt down the city’s treasury or go searching for valuables, but those would be gathered in time.

None of the Oathbound would steal, and no one from Smoothrock would be leaving the city anytime soon.

Instead, I went back to the ruins and began gathering up the dead, as had become habit after large battles like this. I hadn’t had the chance after the battle with the Reservation, which was just another reason to hate Ryan. Instead, Gabriel had done it in my stead. I had made it back in time for the funerals; I’d made sure of that.

Most of our dead were outside the walls.

The initial charge was the most dangerous part, where a lucky shot could do you in. Ballistae bolts and catapult stones weren’t something most people could handle straight on. Even I had to be wary of some.

A few with lucky arrows in just the right place.

The body I picked up then had an arrow sticking straight out of the eye hole in his helmet. A one-in-a-million shot that had brought an end to a warrior’s life.

Some were the result of traps going off.

I silently gathered all who had fought for me and paid the ultimate price and encased them in ice, just like every other who had fallen before them. The only difference was that the icy coffin lacked the spiritual touch it usually had.

As the hours stretched on, I ended up with six rows of ten, with an unfinished seventh row holding four. Sixty-four wouldn’t be making the trip home, and this was only the first city in our path. Before the campaign was over, there would be more.

2.5% was a great casualty rate. A tremendous one when assaulting a city, but it still hurt to look out over the ranks. That number also didn’t include those who were now out of action for the remainder of our campaign.

Hundreds were missing limbs and would need to be sent back to Frostheim to be healed. There were heavily wounded who would be months before they saw battle again.

That percentage was much higher than 2.5%.

Just from the Healers running around trying to gather up severed limbs, there were hundreds, and I knew there would be more before the day was over. I’d thought that once the Healers improved and leveled up, the need to chop off arms and legs would go down.

It didn’t. If anything, it went up.

Being able to heal back whatever was removed gave them much greater leeway with lifesaving measures. Blood loss from a crushed limb that would take too much to heal? Cut it off. Leg bone shattered with fragments of bone cutting up veins and arteries? Cut it off. A chest wound that would drain the body of energy to heal, but also had wounds elsewhere? Cut it off.

Removing ‘superfluous’ appendages so you didn’t die from more serious wounds was becoming common practice instead of being phased out as Healers improved. It also helped save mana so that Healers could work on more patients.

The pile of limbs outside the first-aid tent still uneased me, though.

I wouldn’t know the exact numbers until everything was settled. The Lieutenants would check with those under them, the Vice-Captains would compile it all, and the Captains would tell me.

I just hoped that when Elliot, Hal, and Gabriel finally came, the number wasn’t too high.

We had more cities to conquer.