novelSusiti B3 Chapter 80: The Screams of Dying Men
B3 Chapter 80: The Screams of Dying Men
B3 Chapter 80: The Screams of Dying Men
The shadow cast a chill over the courtyard as all eyes turned skyward. The massive shape continued to careen toward the earth, the irregular edges of its form gaining definition at an alarming speed.
The response was immediate. The Legionnaires immediately regrouped into defensive formations and prepared for battle. The adventurers followed suit, shouting to each other as weapons were drawn and shimmering bubbles of force expanded out to encompass entire groups.
“My lord! Hurry!”
Tiberius felt himself be dragged bodily away from the balcony by his guards. Yet even as they fled, he couldn’t help but watch the impending threat descend—especially once the details of the monstrosity became clear.
It was a birdlike in shape, almost like a raven, though larger than even the Grand Mage’s pet dragon in size. Yet its features were a mishmash of motifs and disjointed ideas. Its wings swept wide as it dove toward the earth, each feather a deep indigo and dripping with some inklike substance. Tucked beneath its body where legs should have been were two mismatched limbs. One glowed an ephemeral white, splitting into four swords that may have been intended to emulate talons, were they not so irregular in size. The other resembled an ornate marble pillar, the ornamentation of its wide base shattered into wickedly sharp spikes and curls.
The creature opened its beak and let out a screech like a choir screaming in agony. The harsh sound echoed through the air, wavering between harmonious and discordant as it continued its meteoric descent. Then, it swept out of its dive, mismatched limbs crashing through the top of the newly reconstructed wall of the city before crashing into the courtyard of the castle. It breathed in, the last vapors of the dead priests’ life essence disappearing into its nostrils.
The raven opened its mouth once more, spewing forth a beam of sickly light that crashed into the Legionnaires’ line with a thunderous roar. The centurions shouted, bolstering their men as they layered buff upon buff over them. Yet it wasn’t enough. The men were too few. The beam began to eat away at [Coordinated Bulwark’s] shimmering barrier like acid.
The conflict disappeared from Tiberius’s sight as his guards bundled him back into the castle. Even then, he could still feel the shuddering of the stone structure around him and hear the screams of dying men.
Tiberius gritted his teeth. This attack had been planned far in advance. Whether for this moment or some other, it didn’t matter. As for what that thing was… He wasn’t entirely sure. But the motifs evident in its appearance gave him a pretty damn good idea of who was responsible, if that hadn’t already been clear enough. He knew enough about this world’s gods to recognize those four, especially given his recent run-in with their priests.
Still… Most of the gods’ influence thus far had been far more indirect than this. Even the more heavyhanded of their interventions paled in comparison. If they were capable of sending down an avatar like this to enact their wrath, then why hadn’t they done so before? The human sacrifice that preceded its arrival made it clear that such a thing didn’t come cheap. There had to be limitations, weaknesses. And why hadn’t they waited until the last of the Legionnaires departed, when Tiberius would be at his most exposed?
“Emperor, this way! We must escort you to safety!”
The words of the Legionnaire guard were only reasonable. They ushered him further inward, looking to barricade him in the late king’s cellar turned saferoom. And yet Tiberius stopped. “No.”
“My lord—”
He shook his head. “I will not flee like a coward and leave my men to die in vain. We will fight this abomination alongside them. For better or for worse.”
The men hesitated, then slowly nodded. He could read the relief in their eyes. No man wanted to abandon his comrades like that, even if it was to protect their emperor. The fact that Tiberius had spared them the choice didn’t go unappreciated. Even if Lucius frowned in obvious disapproval at the declaration.
His decision wasn’t merely borne of foolhardiness, either. This threat was not something that could be ignored. At best, the enemy would just wipe out both the Legionnaires and adventurers both, stripping Corwyn Pass of its reinforcements and possibly dooming the men there. That alone would see them overrun by barbarians. At worst? It would level the capital as well, leaving him little more than ruins and death to rule over—assuming he survived. It was far more likely that this creature would seek him out before long.
Regardless of whether these foolish priests intended it, they would damn their fellow humans with their actions. Unless Tiberius did something about it.
At Tiberius’s command, the group rerouted and made for the front gates. They burst into the courtyard to find it in chaos. To his shock, the Legionnaires’ defensive line had yet to break entirely. It encircled the giant beast, which stomped down at shields and flapped its wings to generate mighty gusts of scything black wind. The men strategically collapsed their line in the face of the strongest attacks rather than taking them directly, something that allowed them to maintain some semblance of control over the situation. It formed and reformed like a wave ebbing and flowing, a delicate dance of defense and offense.
The adventurers hurled all manner of ranged attacks at the beast from behind the shield wall as Legionnaires around the ring taunted. They kept the beast’s attention, shifting it around as other melee fighters took the opportunity to slash at the abomination’s back and legs. Yet the growing mosaic of wounds didn't slow the bird one bit.
Tiberius couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride well up within. His men remained steadfast even in the face of a threat such as this. Even more than that—they’d managed to integrate the others into their tactics without missing a beat.
That wasn’t to say they hadn’t taken losses, however. A dozen Legionnaires lay nearby, some unmoving while others were tended to actual [Healers]. Given the sheer strength and speed with which the remaining Legionnaires moved, it was clear that the men’s sacrifices were not in vain.
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They moved to the side, not daring to move closer and risk getting the thing’s attention—taunted or not. Focusing on the creature, he activated [Paths of Victory] and searched.
He’d been using the skill mostly to navigate political situations and discussions as of late, but now? Now he recalled its original purpose. Even with two hundred of them gathered together, the Legionnaires simply didn't have the numbers to completely stop the beast's advances. The strength granted by their brethren’s death had evened the odds, but it wouldn't last forever.
Information flooded in. Branching possibilities, each one pruned and discarded as quickly as it was conceived. Nevertheless, they guided Tiberius's attention to a few key points. The joints of the abomination were one, the disparate parts of it seemingly held together with vile black ooze. Attacks that struck them were rewarded with a hissing explosion of black acid, yet also revealed a bit of that shimmering sickly light beneath.
It seemed that this monster was even less structurally sound than expected. But though it was a weakness, it was not enough. Glued together as it was, his skill estimated that severing a single limb would still take an enormous amount of time and energy, given what they were working with. But it was a start.
“Target the joints! Elemental magic for the wings, Force for the sword leg, fire and earth for the pillar!” He shouted. “Light magic on the body!”
The combatants made no overt acknowledgment of the order, occupied as they were. But saw backs straightened and morale improve as the men realized their emperor fought with them. Or rather, their [Emperor].
The effect was immediate. Attacks that had merely skittered off the monster now left scorch marks and shallow cuts. Its moves grew sluggish as quarrels of poisoned arrows and vials of colorful liquids splashed against its sides.
It was only to be expected. An [Emperor] was not a frontline fighter himself. His strength came from the loyalty and might of his men. Men who he could empower further, given their defense of his empire. Those benefits only intensified under his [Military Leadership], bolstering their fighting abilities even further. Even the adventurers rallied under his banner as they switched up their tactics accordingly. More and more sprays of acid burst forth from wounds, only to be deflected by the [Coordinated Bulwark] that seemed to strengthen as he watched.
“Send a message to the wall, quickly. Those who have them, continue rotating taunts. Attack its leg to put it off balance… now!”
Tiberius continued shouting orders, coordinating the battle and talking advantage of openings as he pushed for a clearer route to destroy this thing. Without being tapped into the Legion’s massive stamina reserves, he could feel the drain of the skills as a physical sensation. Combined with the [Inspiring Oration] from earlier, he was using far more than expected. It was tolerable for now. The generally passive nature of his skills made them more disposed to prolonged use, and their generally high rarity only helped to enable that.
Unfortunately, this wasn’t the only enemy before them. Tiberius spotted a group of new figures burst into the courtyard, holy symbols in hand. Priests. Not the high priests, it seemed, but ones of enough standing to warrant ornate robes. Though he noted their blood-splattered hems as they moved.
The group quickly noticed Tiberius. With a shout, half of them turned away from the ongoing conflict and ran toward him and his guards, their holy symbols already glowing with divine light.
A shield wall sprang into existence before him. Not just any shield wall, though. This one was suffused with golden light and crackling with power. Despite the small number of guards, it repelled the priests’ attack with ease.
“Behind us, emperor.” Lucius said calmly. A phantasmal image of the Legion’s standard appeared in his grip. “We will deal with these rebels.”
Lucius slammed the standard into the ground. A bubble of warm golden light surrounded the group, and the guards immediately began their counterassault, hurling spears at the incoming priests without exposing their liege to harm. These men were specialized for defense—specifically, defense of him. And they took full advantage of that fact.
Tiberius nodded, trusting his men. He turned back in time to see the raven screech once more, flaring its wings wide. The sound sent everyone clutching for their heads, and Tiberius saw blood leaking from the ears of those Legionnaires who tried to grit their teeth and hold the line. The attack sent a few men unconscious, providing just enough of an opening for the bird to leap into the air once more.
Men’s mouths opened to shout out commands that went unheard. The bird began to circle overhead, gaining enough distance that the men’s [Taunts] failed to reach. It continued to take fire from archers, mages, and anyone else with long-range capabilities. But it wasn’t enough.
The abomination flapped its wings, sending forth a hail of feathers with sharpened nibs. The adventurers scrambled for cover among their own defensive specialists and behind the Legionnaires, who quickly turned their shields skyward. The feathers pierced straight through some of the less robust shields to take fighters in the chest and head. When that attack finally let up, the raven screeched again, calling forth ornate pillars from the ground to disrupt their formations before launching another salvo.
Tiberius gritted his teeth as he saw another man go down in a crumpled heap. The grimaces and swelling muscles of his brethren were enough to make it clear he wouldn’t rise again. Over and over, [Paths of Victory] came back with the same result. They were making progress, but not enough. They weren’t able to whittle the enemy down as quickly as it could damage them. The delicate dance saw the beast landing more and more lucky blows, taking out a handful of adventurers or Legionnaires in a single salvo. The [Healers] were doing their best to keep up, but eventually their stamina would run out.
And yet there was one thing he could do.
He focused on the laurel crown atop his head and closed his eyes. He’d never been a particularly religious man. But if the enemy would call down their gods upon his head, then it was only fair that he do the same.
A brief prayer lifted up to the heavens. He felt the crown above his head cool slightly, its persistent buzz lessening with the thought. Any doubt that it would be answered had long since left him. He’d seen far too many signs for that to be the case.
And so, the answer came.
A streak of searing blue-white shot down from the heavens. Focusing on it with [Keen Eye] allowed him to make out the tiny form more clearly. An eagle, one crackling with light and energy. The comparatively tiny bird soundlessly dove down toward the massive black one still circling above. At the last instant, it opened its tiny beak in a sharp cry.
The eagle connected with a thunderous crack. A pillar of lightning as wide as ten men descended from the sky and smashed the raven down like a massive hammer. Tiberius was blinded for a moment, looking directly at the source as he was. When he blinked away the spots in his vision, he saw a crater below, the raven lying within.
He didn’t even have time to hope that it was dead before it began moving again. Yet when it struggled to its feet, he saw that one of the abomination’s wings had been broken. It would not take to the sky again.
It shrieked as the Legionnaires and adventurers renewed their assault. The battle was far from finished, and even wounded as it was, the beast continued to fight with renewed fervor. But it was weakened.