Theft of Decks 4, CH 50

To anybody who might find and read this or any of the other diaries. If I am no longer alive to ensure that it reaches safe hands, please help them along the way. I don’t care if you’re Lightborn, Furyborn or a damn Gaborn. If you care the least bit about the truth, please make sure the books make it to a real historian. If I am dead, I still want the true story about Liberty to come out.

The army advanced. To the sound of trumpets and marching feet, the Lightborn began their advance to extinguish the nascent spark of independence for Liberty.

The few flying summons among the Lightborn had torn across the sky over Salvation for at least an hour, taking in the lay of the land as well as any visible troops on the streets, before they finally committed to a plan.

Now, the Lightborn battalions stretched across the landscape, five of them marching side by side in an unstoppable tide. They each aimed for a different street, with some distance between each of them. Their advance had a clear agenda. They were going to enter the streets far enough apart that any defenders would have no choice but to face each battalion separately. On top of that, they would be able to switch side streets on their march inward, leaving defenders scrambling to catch up and adjust their defenses.

Chase stood at the center of the street. From his vantage point, standing alone out front, it was easy to see the gleaming armors of one of the battalions, as it bore down on his position at the central street. So far so good. According to Sera, this was among the optimal approaches they could hope for. Now, to make them pay.

As the soldiers slowly advanced toward them in tight ranks, Chase struggled to keep down the roiling nerves. He told himself it was natural, that anybody in his position should be dead scared at what was happening, that he would be able to do his job without any issues.

“Are you peeing?” A voice whispered right near his ear.

Chase jumped, shouting, his arm shooting out to grasp at… nothing. A dark shade receded slightly.

Dozens of surprised faces looked out at him from within the windows of nearby houses. He waved them off, cursing. “Kith, you bloody asshole! If I hadn’t already wet myself, I sure as spit did there! What the Pits are you up to?”

“Oh, just being a friend. Checking up on you.”

“You can stop being helpful now. I’m all out of liquids. Also, talking to a shade is really weird.”

The shadow somehow managed to look affronted. “That’s a really hurtful thing to say to Raudt. Oh, and we’re all in position. All’s ready to go. Give ‘em a good run for their money. Also… don’t die, moron.”

The shade flew straight through the nearest wall, aiming for the next street over. Chase chuckled at it. That was so Kith. Even though he and Sera were in charge of giving orders to the entire army, even with the pressure of handling four damn shades at the same time, somehow he found the time and surplus to fly by and give Chase lip. Even with the adrenaline of the shock still running through him, it made him feel better about everything. Some things never changed.

The foremost ranks of the Lightborn were entering the city proper now. The front ranks carried heavy shields and were advancing mercilessly. The shields looked like they could be interlocked at a moment’s notice, granting them extraordinary defense on top of the heavy armor glinting behind the shields. Further back, a row of long spears waved into the air, likely to be raised over the spear bearers to stab between the ranks and into any enemies from behind.

Chase sidestepped smoothly, avoiding a stray arrow that might actually have hit him. He’d have to hand it to whichever archer took that shot. At this distance, they had to be talented to hit that well. He drew his short sword and gave it a whirl, feeling the solid, comforting heft of it. “One last time, yeah?” He said to himself. Then he set himself in the streets and prepared to run.

They didn’t even bother to stop and send a volley after him. Whoever led the battalion likely knew that it would be a waste for just a single enemy. Instead, their archers were allowed to take potshots as they advanced.

Chase danced between the arrows. Once, he had to deflect an arrow with the blade, when it came buzzing at twice the speed of a regular arrow. Yet, at an Agility of fifty-three, he should be ashamed if he let any regular archers hit him, cards or not!

Finally, the Lightborn came close enough that the arrows ceased to fall. The foremost rank hefted swords, as short as Chase’s to be effective in the brutal close ranks of a shield wall. Eyes closed on him, and cards flashed, brief bursts of light that faded as they prepared to tear him down and run past to conquer a city.

In response, the city exploded.

Like a giant drum, four loud booming noises erupted, two west and two east of Chase, followed by a cacophony of screams, shouts and falling stone.

In front of Chase, the ranks closed, more cards flashing, with a bright shield shimmering into effect around the entire battalion, as they prepared for anything to hit them.

Nothing else happened on their street.

Chase finally engaged his own card. His entire body shimmered as a wave of light rushed over him. The light slowly transformed, coalesced into a full-arm sleeve that built into a long-sleeved glove of stars and living light. He took a deep breath as he raised the middle finger on the newly formed glove high in the direction of the incoming enemies. He yelled, at the top of his lungs. “Want some of that? Come catch me you pencil-pricked assholes!” Then he turned on his heels and ran.

The Lightborn battalion followed on his heels down the streets of Salvation. It should have felt stressful as anything. Yet, Chase felt relieved that the wait was finally over. If anything, he actually felt the familiar excitement of being hunted bubbling right beneath the surface. Sure, this wasn’t an irate shopkeeper, but a thousand armed professionals. Nevertheless, his heart reacted in the same way, telling him that, as long as he kept his focus and kept running, nobody was going to catch him, ever.

The Lightborn were starting to get annoyed by his presence. There was no discussing that. He dodged a couple of additional arrows propelled by cards – one that veered to catch him, and another infused with a pulsating inner light. Another card hit him, a debuff, robbing him of a few points of Agility, and a salvo of bright light shot in his direction, a near-dozen glowing missiles trying to ventilate him.

Nobody got truly close. And now, he was approaching the next point of the plan. At the next intersection, he kept running straight, passed the containers left at either side of the street. He pushed down the brief flash of tension, and ran past without any overt reaction. Once he was past, and felt that he was at a safe distance, he slowed down, ensuring that he wouldn’t be too far away, when their surprise struck.

Chase nearly lost his head when the explosion went off.

Even with his Agility and the Mental Power high enough to see and process things a lot faster than regular uncarded people, he could not keep up. One moment, he was jogging along merrily, twisting and dodging occasionally to evade the few arrows trying to strike him. The next, the street behind him erupted into twin massive explosions, sending paving stones flying every which way, making the two-story houses of former Hearts on both sides of the street collapse into the street.

One wayward paving stone whizzed right past his head at a speed where Chase felt like he could feel the superheated rock passing by. He hit the ground, covering his head for any other wayward missiles. Then, with the houses still collapsing, dust covering everything, he burst into motion.

With cards flashing all over, he charged right back in the direction he was coming. He activated cards, feet pounding, taking him into the thick of it as fast as he could. Circle of Darkness hid his presence in a lovely cover of shadows, as thick as he could build them. Steps of Brilliance took him – still hidden – into the air, above the loose ranks of the reeling enemies.

He ran on top of the platforms, right above their heads, sword slashing down at helmets and exposed heads, abusing the confusion and panic while they still hadn’t realizing what was happening. Every step took him closer into their midst, every leap rife with the risk that somebody was going to dispel his card, or realize what was happening. He pushed it as far, as fast as he believed he could. Then, with a brief prayer at whoever might listen, he activated Temper Tantrum.

Chase had no idea exactly what the activation of the card would bring him. The card description was delightfully vague. ‘Enhances the existing emotions…’ What would that even mean in practice? Truthfully, he was more interested in the second part of the effects, where it said that he’d be able to override their current emotions. So, constantly thinking that they should rage at anybody in the nearest vicinity, he hoped for the best.

Never. Never in his life could he have imagined as explosive an effect as the one he got. In a split second, the cohesion remaining in the shell-shocked unit burst, replaced by a dozen different reactions. Some soldiers flung themselves to the ground, wailing. Others ran away, lost to panic. Still others started shouting or yelling at their fellow soldiers. Some either managed to ignore the effects, or what was enhanced was them being stalwart and resolute, because they kept their temper and stayed in place, ready to react despite the darkness. Yet, their levelheadedness meant nothing, as a full third of those affected at the center of the battalion started lashing out at anything in their vicinity.

Chase watched through the darkness as a grizzled archer, blinded by the darkness, reached out in front of him. With fumbling hands, he dropped his bow and reached out to the soldier ahead of him. Then, with a bloodthirsty cry, he let his bow drop and, grabbing onto the soldier’s neck, stabbed the man with his arrow in a mindless frenzy.

He continued running ahead on top of his platforms, even as the bright ranks fell apart below him, until he hit the collapsed wreckage blocking the entirety of the street. Climbing further up to reach the apex of the wreckage, he shot a loot back at the ranks who were emerging from the Circle of Darkness, able to see once the darkness passed.

It was utter chaos. Lightborn fought Lightborn, while others fled, cried, yelled, or had gone utterly crazy. And behind them, shapes were coming into view along the street. The second part of their plan was swiftly unfolding.

Hundreds of shapes were coming into view on the flat rooftops. Already, arrows darkened the skies, and flashes seemed to appear everywhere, as they unleashed everything they had down into the chaotic brawl that had, moments earlier, been an orderly Lightborn battalion.

Chase growled, but kept running. Even if he wanted to help finish them, he had to get moving. The rest of the army was sure to be inbound soon, and they needed to get to it. He’d have to trust to their ability to down them quickly and efficiently.

“Slowpoke!”

The voice nearly made him miss his next platform. Chase growled, started teetering sideways, and managed to create a new platform to adjust his descent. Seconds later, he hit the ground and started running for the southern exit of the city.

“Don’t be like that.” The shade floated backward in front of him, effortlessly, like it cost him nothing.

“You’re an asshole, Kith. How are we doing?” Chase asked through gritted teeth.

“First five battalions are handled. For one of them, the Lightborn managed to escape relatively unscathed. The explosions went off wrong and didn’t block the street, so they were able to retreat with limited losses. Three ambushes went off perfectly. Beautiful explosions taking out a third of them or worse from the start, followed by shadow droplets keeping them in the dark while they were slaughtered. Oh. The last explosion was good, but we had to send in Liam with a veteran squad, since they were annoyingly quick to adapt to the ranged attacks.”

“He crushed them?”

“He crushed them.” Kith’s satisfaction was audible. “Sera says good job on making them chase you. She’s betting on them trying to follow the central street for their next attack. I agree with her. You’re damn good at being annoying.”

Chase released a sigh of relief, even as he flipped off the shadow. That was a good start. It had taken them ages to come up with the concept, but eventually, they’d agreed on how it would have to be. All ranged fighters, casters and summoners would be arranged into smaller teams with mobile ladders and hide in houses until Kith could tell them to swarm out, climb to the roofs, and attack. Meanwhile, all fighters, rogues and healers, along with the few high-Tier veterans, would be combined into larger forces that would move about the city to handle any problems. With Sera managing their forces through a lot of aides, good maps, and Kith’s shades, they were able to respond and shift their forces swiftly, and with the shaper oil, they were able to rearrange the shape of the city itself and trap incoming forces at a moment’s notice.

They’d managed to finish somewhere between four and five of the twenty battalions in one fell swoop. Now, things were bound to become harder – especially if that damn Euronimous was anywhere near as clever as he seemed to think.

The shade was still roaming next to him. Chase decided that was a good sign, or Kith would have moved it elsewhere. “What are they doing?”

“Floundering, looks like. Remember? We hid a bunch of archers and summoners with flying summons near the city edge. They’ve been taking out their eyes ever since the attack. They might’ve caught what happened this time around, but from here on out? They’re blind! The next battalions have stopped, waiting for orders most likely. Waaait. Be right back.”

Chase kept running, with the shade floating peacefully alongside. If he didn’t know better, he’d swear the damn thing was smiling at him.

On rooftops on either side, the ranged wielders Kith just mentioned were climbing off the rooftops, starting to move further back. They whooped and hollered with joy as they ran.

Moments later, he left the buildings on either side behind. In front of him, he saw the Lightborn forces milling about. They seemed to be in disarray, but if Chase had to guess, this was the whole military thing where there was supposed to be a method to the madness.

He had to fight himself not to do something stupid – like hiding himself in darkness and rushing into their midst for another unleashed Temper Tantrum. If it worked, sure, it’d likely mess up their operations badly, but the odds that some healer had a dispel waiting for him were just too ugly. Getting caught by Euronimous would not end pretty. He just itched to do something, to act!

Yet, he pulled himself under control. Sera had seen it coming right from the start. If this, their first move, worked, everything would hinge upon how the Lightborn reacted.

If they decided to take a slower approach, it would be a boon to their own forces. Anybody who’d managed to earn a higher Tier in that first clash would be able to rush back to the Wellspring and gain new and better cards. Their forces would only improve with time.

Nobody thought that was likely to happen, though. Euronimous knew as well as anybody that the clock was against him here. Everything, from the size of the population, to the eventual arrival of Furyborn and Elementals, spoke to him needing to move fast.

After a lot of discussions, they eventually settled on two major directions they were likely to take. Either, they’d decide to split up their forces even further, make it harder for the defenders of Salvation to react to their routes and overwhelm them with numerous different angles of attack at the same time. Or, and this was Sera’s favorite approach, gather their forces and rush into the city as a cohesive whole, try to simply power through anything the defenders might push at them.

In the end, they went with neither of those choices.

“What is that?” Chase asked himself.

“They’re… repeating the last attack?” Kith’s voice arrived from the shadow, filled with incredulity.

“Sure looks like it.” Chase said, as he watched a battalion slowly starting to move in his direction. “But what was up with all the rearranging of troops? And why the Pits are they aiming for the same damn streets as last time?”

“I…” Kiths’ voice faded away and reappeared about half a minute later. “Sera says she thinks they’ll be stress testing our traps. Trying to break through without putting everything at risk. Are they that stupid? They aren’t that stupid, are they?”

“We can only hope. I… had probably better start to move.” Chase grinned, looking at the incoming soldiers and jumped up and down, waving at them with a huge smile. It was time to prepare a warm, warm welcome!

All streets leading into the city had been booby trapped. Making sure that they were able to hit any section right where the Lightborn tried to enter, accounted for about half of their entire stock of the shaper oil. Right this moment, a trio of very stressed summoners would be working their asses off, all because they had the fortune of earning summoned creatures that were, through one methos or the other, able to move the shaper oil without any risk of blowing up. They were the sole people in charge of moving the remaining containers about as the battle proceeded, ensuring that any street the Lightborn chose could be rigged against them.

So many moving pieces. So many things that could go wrong. And one Lightborn noble who looked like he might come up with something truly unforeseeable. Chase just hoped that they’d be able to prepare in time.

He reached the intersection with the former trap. Ahead, the street was entirely ruined, with the houses on either side having caved in to create a dangerously unstable pile of broken stone and wood. The streets on either side were calm and wide open, though. From here, the Lightborn could choose to go both left and right, moving a street over to continue for the center uninterrupted. Both sides had already been rigged further back, though.

Pulling down his pants, he bent over in front of the army, granting the Lightborn a blindingly white target. One rushed arrow made him leap awkwardly to avoid well-earned retribution. Then he pulled the pants back up, shouted derision at their ability to aim, their manhood and their ancestors, and ran for the rightmost street. Arrows followed his retreating form, and he had to summon his light hand in order to close the buckle while running.

“You were supposed to get ‘em to run after you, not drive ‘em off! Hey. Did you get another card on your ass? Because I feel blinded!” Kith was apparently feeling damn good about the situation, because he stayed with Chase all the way.

“And I thought you were supposed to help. This isn’t – oh crap!” Chase turned, as he realized that the Lightborn weren’t following him anymore. Except, they weren’t moving left either. Instead, they were carefully and meticulously climbing across the broken wreckage of the houses, even as archers enfolded their ranks on either side, preparing to fire on Chase or… well, anybody coming too close.

Kith didn’t answer. He was clearly already busy reporting what was happening.

Chase considered the situation. This wasn’t great. As the Lightborn forces advanced, the poor Liberty summoners would be running themselves ragged placing shaper oil ready to greet any deviation of the five battalions. Only, now they’d have adjust to them actually following their original directions. That… wasn’t insurmountable. But it would require some last-minute adjustments that they just hadn’t time for right now.

“We need to delay them.” He spoke the words, even as he came to the realization. “I need to delay them. Damn.” His feet were already in motion, carrying him where he needed to be. Not toward the waiting archers, though. No, he was climbing platforms, carrying him to the top of the nearest roof.

Yells followed his approach, but they were unable to stop him. Once he was up there, it was an easy task to move to the far side of the flat rooftop, leaving him out of view of the Lightborn ground troops. Then he took a deep breath and started running across the rooftops.

For a brief moment, this was just like back in Isarn. They’d used those rooftops as just another shortcut to evade pursuit, to hide, and sometimes, even just to cross from one street to the other at speed. If anything, the roofs of Salvation were even easier to navigate. The alleys between some houses were wider than the shadowy, ambush-worthy backstreets back in Isarn, but the distance was no issue to somebody with fifty-three Agility. He didn’t even have to activate Steps of Brilliance to cross.

He reached the end of the final rooftop. Beyond lay the blown-up street, filled with Lightborn troops slowly working their way in the direction of and up the mountain of bricks, dirt and wreckage. Before he even thought about his plan, Chase was airborne. Cries arose below him as a series of platforms let him run across the open air to reach the top of the piled-up ruins.

A giant of a Lightborn was leading their ranks in climbing the wreckage. The no-necked thick frontline fighter moved like a golem, like somebody incapable of losing his balance or even stopping. He’d almost reached the apex of the climb and was turning to see the progression of his fellows.

Chase’s sword took him at the nape of the neck and bit deep. The giant tumbled to the ground with a massive roar, even as Chase took his position at the top of the pile. “You want to get up here? You’d better fight me for it, then.” Not the most epic of taunts, he had to admit – but it worked. The closest Lightborn sped up in their attempt to reach him, even as those further down activated cards and reached for bows in order to take him down.

Chase activated One with the Soil, granting him perfect balance, breathed a silent prayer, and activated Sudden Breeze.

There was a reason that people of Tiers five and above were generally the wielders people talked about, the ones who became Names, people of import. Regardless who you talked to, people agreed on the one thing: Tier five was where you started reaching epic levels of power.

In one regard, it had to do with being granted cards with scopes or possibilities that simply weren’t available at lower ranks. Like Kith’s Light of Day, Day of Darkness, which was able to influence an entire damn battlefield. Or his chariot, which enabled an entirely changed modus of travel, freed from the confines walking or having to deal with living creatures.

Sometimes, however, it was simply a matter of sheer power. Nothing about Sudden Breeze sounded inhumanly powerful. Yet, the galeforce-like wind that gushed into existence at his back, tearing down toward the Lightborn, was incomparable to anything else he had at his disposal. The sole exception might be A Friendly Wave, at its utter maximum capacity.

In a split second, enemy archers became entirely useless. Even activating their cards, any arrows became more of a hazard to themselves than him. Half the frontline imploded, fighters tumbling down the pile of wreckage, flung around like dry sticks in a storm. Casters and others farther down slid around and hid behind other soldiers, trying to find shelter.

For a full ten, fifteen seconds, nobody even considered striking back at Chase. Meanwhile, he abused One with the Soil, racing around to strike at any nearby frontline fighter managing to stay up. At times, it felt like his upper body wanted to lift off from the ground, but his feet felt glued to the ground, the sensation as natural as if he were running through a soft summer breeze.

When the card abated, Chase grinned down at the enemy soldiers, winked, and switched to Circle of Darkness. “Come get me, losers.” He shouted. Then he faded into the shadows.

The next five minutes weren’t fun. The few healers among the enemy managed to ladle a good number of debuffs onto him, to the point where his feet and arms were starting to feel heavy. They also kept trying to dispel all cards of his, especially Circle of Darkness. Yet, Chase’s Mental Power and the card being Tier four meant that they failed to do anything beyond lightening the darkness slightly. The casters and archers kept flinging everything they had at the darkness, trying to fill the air with enough missiles that he’d eventually be hit through sheer volume.

Compared to the Lightborn frontline fighters, though, Chase was having a blast. The poor bastards kept climbing the broken wreckage with a downpour of arrows and cards impacting right over their heads. The last part of the climb was wrapped in shadows, too, forcing them to fumble their way in near-blindness. And when they reached the top, without fail, Chase re-activated Sudden Breeze to force them all back again.

He would not be able to keep it up. There were simply too many of them. At some point, one of them would be lucky and land a direct hit, their cards would dispel Circle of Darkness, or they’d overwhelm him with numbers. His left leg was already slowly dripping blood into his boot from a light burst tearing a funnel across the outside of his calf, and a huge bruise was spreading on his cheek where he’d hit a wall face-first in an evasive maneuver. Yet, he was keeping them back, and the frontline fighters were starting to show an outright aversion to climbing the wreckage.

Chase considered taking a risk. He’d seen how effective Temper Tantrum could be. He felt that, if he got into their midst, he’d be able to take out the pesky healers and casters who truly threatened his life. Only, to do that, he’d have to get there unscathed first, and, well, they were very much aware of his movements.

“Showoff!”

Chase yelped at the voice appearing at his side. Then he flung himself downhill, hiding behind the half-ruined remains of a kitchen. “You ass!”

Kith’s laughter rang over even the furious sounds of the pursuit. “Just wanted to tell you, you can move back now, tough guy. We’ve got the street rigged. You’ve got them pissing their breeches badly, though. I can leave you alone to handle them yourself, no problem.”

Chase expelled a stressed laughter. “I… think I could do with a break.” His feet felt like they were floating as he ran down the far side of the wreckage on his platforms. He might be forced to pull back, but he’d put himself up against a thousand Lightborn and held. Fire burst his eyes, he’d held. He’d earned a breather. “How are the others doing?” He asked as he ran.

“Poorly.” Kith’s voice was strained. “You’re the only one who managed to keep them back entirely. Also, not only did they trick us with this, once they were on the other side, the bastards actually brought their own ladders and climbed the houses.”

“Oh.” Chase tried to visualize that. It wasn’t a pretty sight. The Liberators who’d climbed the houses last time to ambush the Lightborn would no longer be met with a shell-shocked battalion on the ground below them, but instead, with battle-ready archers on the same level as themselves. “What are we doing? What do I need to do?” He asked.

“You’ve done your part. It’s not pretty, but we’re taking care of things. This time, we’re throwing numbers at them. We’re hitting their battalions one at a time with everything we’ve got, and slowing down the others with collapses. Spike’s helping. It’s not pretty, but it works. As to them climbing to the roofs… well-“

A loud explosion rocked the city.

“Nice timing on that one. Well, the shaper oil does the same to them, whether they’re on the ground or on the rooftop.”

Chase spotted the signal indicating a trap had been laid. A few houses beyond that, a door opened, and a hand waved him into a crowded room that was filled with waiting archers, casters and, blessedly, a healer. Head reeling, he found himself healed and downing a large mug of water, with people patting his back and nodding at him in respect.

The Lightborn, when they arrived a few minutes later had regrouped and reestablished their formations. On top of that, they’d re-arranged their ranged attackers to run along the rooftops on either side of the street, prepared against any surprises from above or the streets on the other side. They had long ladders, clearly prepared for siege battle, that allowed them to cross alleys and climb to the roofs, albeit clumsily. This time, they were prepared.

He’d never really gotten to understand the exact method that went into setting off the shaper oil. Yet, he was watching them from within a Circle of Darkness on the rooftop of the next street over. Crouched down, wrapped within a gradated layer of thin shadows, with only his eyes emerging the slight overhang at the eaves of the roof, he saw everything.

The explosion went off perfectly. Right at the hindmost third of the much-abused Lightborn batallion, the cloud of debris and dirt enveloped the hind third of their numbers immediately.

Chase was off immediately, stepping off the roof onto a floating platform, sprinting as fast as he could. He emerged less than ten seconds later to impact on a roof, where the ranged Lightborn were adjusting to their rear guard having fallen into the ruined mess behind them. He had to hand it to them, though. The Lightborn soldiers were consummate professionals. Where amateurs would be screaming for help, be deep in shock, or simply be stunned by the surprise, they were already adjusting, eyes searching, weapons veering in order to greet the ambush they expected was coming.

Their instincts were correct. The direction wasn’t.

When Chase hit the roof, only a few of them were even glancing in his direction. He took one step, grinned, and activated Sudden Breeze, aimed directly at their exposed backs.

This time, with Circle of Darkness still active instead of One with the Soil, he was affected along with their number. He felt himself being forcibly pulled toward the edge and embraced it. He rushed ahead with the wind, and with a mighty whoop, he leapt into open air, platforms emerging under his feet, even as the storm propelled him forward at top speed.

Chase ran straight across the street, even as bodies started falling down into the street on either side of him.

Now came the most dangerous part of this gambit.

Right this moment, even enveloped in darkness, Chase was exposed, running out in the street, with nothing to hide behind. He veered, running sideways to evade the Lightborn on the opposite rooftop. He activated Fight Another Day, doubling his speed, rushing across the open air, the shadows around him hiding his form, even as he roamed about in open air.

Every single archer and caster on the opposite rooftop decided that he had to die. Card effects and arrows filled the air, trying to take him down.

Sudden Breeze saved his life. Even from across the wide street, the remnants of the card effect was massive enough that almost every arrow was thrown askew. Topped with his speed and the shadows hiding him, Chase managed getting aeriated by a hair.

He didn’t escape damage outright. A wave of light tore through his cloud, leaving him feeling burned alive. Twin miniature suns with some sort of searching essence managed to follow him, even at his speed, and erupted a few feet from him, nearly tossing him off his feet. Always, always, arrows and throwing weapons were everywhere in the sky around him, making the skies feel nearly solid.

Bruised, burned and reeling, Chase knew that he wouldn’t be able to survive another minute of this. Fortunately, he only needed a third of that.

They emerged from within the homes and climbed up their own stairs. Silent, and focused, they abused the ringing in the ears from the explosions and the loud noise of the enemies’ cries to hide their own steps. As one, they climbed the back of the building where every single eye was currently trained on Chase and arrived in a swarm, hitting the backs of the exposed ranged fighters as a massive wave. Some had light weapons, others simply used lowered shoulders or fists. Whatever the method, the Liberators hit the Lightborn with the force of a six-Tier card.

Sometimes, Chase had learned, battlefields saw sudden breaks or silences. Weird standoffs, where an unexpected action or experience suddenly managed to throw everything off kilter, earning a brief few seconds for everybody to readjust mentally, until fighting would inevitably resume.

This one lasted only for about five seconds, as the Lightborn down on the streets suddenly saw their comrades raining down from both sides of the street.

Following this, however, the ranged Liberators rushed up to the edges of the rooftops on both sides of the street. Then, they hefted their ranged weapons, activated their cards, and unleashed a rain of death onto the scattered Lightborn. The silence broke right there. The Lightborn broke soon thereafter.