CC5 ~ 24!

~ 24 ~

The Dwarves had made a tactical retreat in preparation of charging, and the Elven defenders were frantically attempting to destroy whatever was obliterating their walls. Since the ritual diagram had literally been buried inside the very walls that it was destroying, they were having no luck disrupting the source. Every few minutes, another ten feet of wall was returned to its component state, forming neat stacks of stone and metal outside of the fortress so that the Elves couldn’t even use the material as projectiles.

Ten minutes, half an hour, an hour later… and the call to charge went up. In just a few minutes, the ritual diagram would be exposed, and the Elves would likely destroy it immediately. A stream of silver-clad soldiers charged forward. As soon as they started moving, Joe swore he saw a Dwarf slap a fireball to the side with a Warhammer, once more making Joe wonder what sort of enchantments they had access to.

The human was in the center of the formation, yet even so, he stuck out like a sore thumb due to his height. Joe was at least a feet taller than even the tallest Dwarf, and that fact made him an easy target for Elven aggression. Every inch of ground he trod on was bombarded with concentrated arrows and spells filled with both mana and deadly intent.

With their enemy’s fire focused on him—literally, in some cases—another platoon of Dwarves was able to flank the defenders that had lost the height advantage in every way that mattered. Bursts of light came from every Elf in their path as repeated melee strikes popped their shields like soap bubbles. By the time Joe reached the much-diminished wall, the initial path was clear. Joe felt overwhelming relief that this was going so well. “Stage one complete. Gotta get halfway-”

It was then that Joe noticed that the fortress was retreating into the distance. He, along with all the other Dwarves, were sprinting straight at it, but their target never seemed to get any closer. As soon as his conscious mind made that realization, he blinked and felt his eyes clear. Whatever had been overlaying his vision vanished, and he saw that roughly half of the Dwarves that had been running with him were now on the ground, ‘running’ as if they were in a dream. Their legs were twitching, but they were being trampled by the other members of the Legion that had not been caught by the illusion.

The interior of the Fortress was heavily trapped, showcased by the front ranks of Dwarves tumbling right through the ‘ground’ and into a spiked pit where they were torn apart by animated plants clearly controlled by Elven magic. One of the platoon leaders pulled out a small compact mirror and crushed it in his hand. He threw the resulting glass powder into the space where the Dwarves had fallen, and the pit became clearly visible. “Mental illusions and soft light illusions… watch your step! Make sure you know the ally next to you; the cheeky brats like to use personal glamour while we are watching the environment!”

Half of the Dwarves were punched in the face by their brethren, and were punched back in kind. Anyone who didn't bleed, but instead had stopped the fist with a magical barrier, was immediately beaten into the ground and sent to respawn. Every time, an Elven body was revealed as soon as their health hit zero. Joe was only spared this treatment reluctantly, when he reminded them that he was a human mage.

Every few steps forward set off another attack of some kind; whether it was getting shot at, spells flying toward them, glamoured assassins… but finally, they were almost to the inner walls of the keep. Joe motioned and shouted to the platoon leader to get his attention, “We’re already closer than we need to be! Set up a defensive perimeter, and I’ll activate the ritual immediately!”

The Dwarves cleared a space directly in front of Joe, and with a simple hip thrust, a huge stone disc slammed onto the ground out of his spatial codpiece. Joe placed a hand on the ritual he had laid out and allowed his mana to flow into it, activating a single glowing ring at a time. It exhausted his mana supply, but soon the ritual was spinning up. Joe had been concerned that he would not be able to catch enough Elves in the area actively casting spells, but he had underestimated the Elves’ dedication to protecting their new fortress.

Class experience gained (Reductionist): 100.

The shields that were raised in order to protect him were deflecting fire, snakes of liquid darkness, and beams of light that often managed to go right through the shield and damage the Dwarf holding it. The ground around them began to writhe as the plants in their encirclement were targeted for spells such as Control Roots, Overgrowth, and Plant Detonation. The sapping aspect of the ritual came into full effect, latching onto anyone casting a spell and beginning to drain them. It wasn't powerful enough to take everything they had, but the draw was enough to deplete their mana regeneration capabilities. Most of the Elves didn't even notice… at least not fast enough to do anything about it.

The spells came thick and fast, boiling the air and sending Dwarf after Dwarf to respawn. Then, a strange shift occurred as the spells began to just… peter off. There was a strange lull in the battle as the Elves began to panic and the Dwarves began to chuckle expectantly. Joe looked down, checking the ground for any signs that the ritual was affecting the plant life in the area. Everything appeared to be normal until he swiped his hand across the grass.

The small green blades moved along with his hand, fluttering into the air and leaving a streak of dirt on the ground where he had touched. All of the weeds in the area had lost their root system, and someone had noticed Joe motion. “Bro! Dudes and Dudettes! Magic Bro Joe did it! Cha~a~arge!”

His new moniker was taken up as a war cry, which made Joe’s teeth ache, but he wasn't about to tell three-hundred-pound Dwarves coated in two hundred pounds of metal armor and carrying eighty pound weapons to stop… much of anything, really. He was just going to go ahead and let the Legion call him whatever they wanted to; so long as it kept them smiling at him.

The Dwarves flowed around Joe as if he were a rock in the center of a river, realizing that the human’s part had been played. He followed along, as there was nothing left for him to do here; the ritual was self-sustaining, and he really wanted to see the Guardian of this small fortress. The hard work was being done by his Dwarven comrades, and the only time he saw an Elf was when it was peeking down from a rooftop to send a deadly weapon or effect toward him… or laying on the ground, already sent to respawn.

A thunderous *crash* rang out as Havoc made his glorious return to the battlefield, destroying the portcullis and wooden gate at the front of the small fort with a single attack and a scream of frustration. “She got away! Abyss it, Francine! Legion! Slaughter everyone; tear this place down to the smallest stone! Leave only a single survivor so that they can spread the truth that their Commander happily abandons them when a single titled Noble arrives on the scene! They fear one? Wait until the Legion marches as a whole!”

Lord of Slaughter II has taken effect! The leader of the enemy troops in the area has abandoned their post. None can stand against you, and few will even try! All original effects increased by 5%. Elven morale has hit its lowest point. There's a 50% chance that your enemies will flee before you!

Joe allowed the Dwarves to go in first, as their physical stats and chances of survival were much higher than his own. He did not even have a proper weapon yet, since Havoc had said they would need to ‘visit a friend of his’ before they could find something ‘just right’. Joe took a moment to check his status sheet, though he knew that not much had changed.

Name: Joe ‘Tatum’s Chosen Legend’ Class: Reductionist

Profession I: Arcanologist (Max)

Profession II: Ritualistic Alchemist (1/20)

Profession III: None

Character Level: 19 Exp: 192,704 Exp to next level: 17,296

Rituarchitect Level: 10 Exp: 45,000 Exp debt: 9,600

Reductionist Level: 0 Exp: 476 Exp to next level: 524

Hit Points: 1,573/1,573

Mana: 1,336/2,152

Mana regen: 44.55/sec

Stamina: 898/1337

Stamina regen: 6.36/sec

Characteristic: Raw score

Strength: 129

Dexterity: 129

Constitution: 125

Intelligence: 138

Wisdom: 118

Dark Charisma: 80

Perception: 118

Luck: 60

Karmic Luck: 8

Joe was pulled from his introspection by a metal-clad hand grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around. He came face-to-face with Havoc; he had never seen the Dwarf have such a red face. He couldn't be sure, but Joe was almost positive that the Dwarf was close to weeping. However, he would never be able to tell behind those thick, reflective goggles the Dwarf wore at all times. Havoc was breathing heavily, gripping on to Joe so tightly that his Exquisite Shell was taking damage and starting to crack.

“If you ever… and I mean ever… run into Francine… you kill her, Joe. You do everything you can to kill her immediately.” Havoc’s voice was ragged as he shook his mentee. “You remember this, human. If by some terrible chance, those Elves win this war, and Francine is not back by my side… all you will find remaining of me or my research lab is a crater. I will be with her, one way or another.”

Mandatory Quest gained!