B2 Chapter 212: Siege, pt. 2

The minutes burned by the score, a steadily growing exhaustion welling up inside him. Kaius knew what it was; battle fatigue, the heavy strain on one’s senses as they were pushed to their limit, operating at their full capacity as Resources flowed like wine at a noble’s party.

Not that the constant assault was without its benefits. The unending horde of bogglings had brought gifts—skill and class levels galore. Even without significant level disparity to fuel their growth, quantity was a quality all of its own.

Not to mention, he and Porkchop had developed a rhythm. A comfortable mode of cooperation that would serve them well long into the future. His brother was an anchor and a wall, keeping attention focused on him, as the wave of flesh broke against his stalwart defence.

Kaius raced through the rapids—pinning the enemy against Porkchop’s inviolate defense, a headsman’s axe to the pinned.

No longer was the tunnel one of clean stone and pure darkness. Now it was a slaughter house; a veritable temple to Straxi, god of butchery and bloodletting. The walls were painted with stinking iron—visible only as a slate-grey wash in the monochrome of his Truesight—and the fallen had been smashed by a thousand stomping feet, pulped into a boggy muck of offal and death.

It made for treacherous footing. The boggarts got the worst of it—a dozen slips leading to yet more shattered bodies being added to the mire. Still, it had not been without their own costs.

Kaius had already taken one deep stab to the hip. A bugbear, armed with what looked to be a simple stone spear. The crafters of the plague had quickly proven themselves resourceful—a glowing spear strike had punched clean through his scale, scouring a furrow through the bone of his hip. Primitive they may have been, the boggarts had somehow sourced mana infused materials—and their shamans had inscribed them further.

Not all were equipped so well, but he’d gotten good at picking out the sparkling stone of the bugbears that had been. Their weapons were not so easy to reduce to kindling.

Uncanny Dodge screamed a warning in his mind, a creeping hand of death approaching from the blindspot to his right. Unfortunately, right at the same time a boggart to his front made an effort to slam an axe into his belly.

Kaius lurched back, speeding up as his skill hastened his speed. A stone sledgehammer sailed past his nose, right where his head had been a moment earlier. The bugbear who had swung at him snarled.

**Ding! Uncanny Dodge has reached level 54!**

Grinning at the failed attempt on his life, Kaius booted the bugbear back—sending it stumbling into the press of boggarts. Stepping forwards, Kaius kept his eyes locked on the hammer-user as his blade lashed out to cut clean through the throat of a boggart that had harassed him earlier. It fell back, clawing at the lifeblood that jetted from the wound.

**Ding! level 57 Boggart – Swift Raider slain – Experience Gained!**

Pivoting on his back foot, he lunged forwards, burying the point of his sword in the downed bugbear’s eye.

**Ding! level 67 Bugbear – Harsh Taskmaster slain – Experience Gained! Bonus Experience for slaying a foe of Significant Strength!**

**Ding! Runeblade Initiate has reached class level 55!**

**+3 End, Str, & Int, +2 Dex, Wil, +1 Vit, Free – from Class & Racial Traits!**

Solar warmth rushed through him as Kaius felt Ianmus’s spell take hold—a heal, the second he’d received. Even with all the care he had taken, it was hard to avoid everything. Ianmus had done a good job keeping him topped up though, especially considering the amount of work that the mage had put into keeping Porkchop hale and hearty, in spite of his brother taking the brunt of the boggart’s assault.

Their Resources were still dropping. Three times he’d had to burn a Stormlash to break a rally that had threatened to overwhelm Porkchop. Three less spells, and not one spent on the death of any of the plague’s elite members.

The tide flowed once more—bugbear rallying cries driving the mob forwards in a unity of violence.

Porkchop growled, refusing to give up more ground—they’d already lost too much, pushed back halfway through the choked up section of tunnel.

He roared, plunging a gleaming green claw into the stone beneath him. A monolithic block of his chosen mineral tore through the ground with a howling screech—tortured stone protesting its rough treatment.

The skill slammed into the rush of boggarts like a raging bull, splintering their line once more.

Of all their skills, Porkchop’s Prismatic Shardwall had shown its value the most. They’d have been overrun a dozen times over without it.

Unfortunately, each time he used it, it sapped his brother of Stamina—robbed him of the fuel he needed to keep the pyre of his fury stoked.

They were managing it for now, but the tide seemed unending—unhalting. Every second was more Stamina, more Health, and more Mana being consumed. The levels helped—brought them more power and fuel both; it wasn’t enough.

They were being worn down.

…

Kaius was gasping, chest heaving with the burning heat of exertion and a dozen quickly healing wounds.

**Ding! Lesser Regeneration has reached level 65!**

Has it been minutes? Hours? It was hard to tell. A monotonous grind of blood and fury—a marathon of violence that left him feeling more strungout and exhausted than even his fight against the siege ogre Guardian so many months ago.

And yet…he was buoyed by the song in his blood, left feeling focused and clear in a way that was rare and precious—a vitality that invigorated him on a deeper level than the mortal concerns of exhaustion and battle fatigue. The clarity was welcome; it kept him on edge, alert for the inevitable changing of the fates.

Now, more than ever, he was certain that they would have to flee.

His Glass Mind raced, comparing his memories of lessons on attrition, the rate at which his team were felling enemies, and the steady drain on their resource, to the number of bodies that had fallen. How much effort would it take to kill that next boggart, or the bugbear after that.

There were too many, almost certainly. Every Bladerite, every Stormlash, every Slip Step, and every healing spell took them closer to needing to flee, yet it was only with those moments of might that they stood their ground.

The work he had started earlier in the battle continued. Every moment, he found wasteful expenditure to excise. A lunge just a little too long, a twirl of his sword just a little too flourishing. Frivolous effort burning precious seconds that could be leveraged to extend their assault. His swordplay and footwork slowly refined, a simple process of the smallest movements he could make to steal another boggart’s final breath.

**Ding! Liturgical Bladeform: Primus Ordo has reached level 61!**

**Ding! Tempered by Dissonance has reached level 54!**

An echoing call of ancient victory and surety of strength shook the cave, Porkchop letting out another baleful roar that inspired madness in their enemies. His brother was battered and bloodsoaked, his under-armour drenched to the core in his own viscera from dozens fist-sized gouges that had been torn from his flesh again and again.

Still, he moved strong.

An immovable rock in the rapids, forcing the tide of flesh to move to his whims. Every crushing paw and bite reaped lives, but the wounds were accumulating. They healed quickly, bestial vitality and a regeneration skill sealing Porkchop’s wounds in moments.

Stout fortitude and a will of iron made the injuries no less painful.

Kaius dashed in, the bogglings offering little resistance to his racing assault in the forced focus on Porkchop.

Only for a low droning chant to start from deeper within the cave—still concealed around the bend.

A sickening glow of roiling mana spread through the air with the grace of a dying leper. The crowd of bogglings heaved, something moving deep within its shadowed confines—preceded by maddened roars.

They came into view a moment later, drawing his eye even as he sprayed brain through the air with a cleaving strike to the side of a boggart’s skull.

Three heavily muscled bugbears, each dressed in scavenged chain defiled with plain hide tabards painted in the crude runes of the shamans. The armour wasn’t the only stolen tool of mannish origin—a hunting spear, woodsman’s axe, and blacksmith’s hammer were held in tightly clenched fists. These too were corrupted; defiled by bone charms and painted incantations.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

With eyes glowing in purple fire, the ensorcelled bugbears shoved their kin to the side—wading through the tide of war to make their stand on the front lines.

The arrival of the powerful bugbears right as Porkchop had maddened the entire front line was just about the worst moment possible. They needed time—space to react to the threat.

His brother agreed, they’d fallen heavily into their bond in this battle, and simple words were unnecessary. A heavy slam summoned another Shardwall, Kaius feeling the creeping fatigue the skill brought in its wake.

**Ding! Brotherhood of Ichor and Animus has reached level 68!**

The level brought with it a rush of changing energy—one that sank deep into him, compacting his bones, and reknitting his flesh. A minute change, but every iota of power that Kaius could leverage mattered.

Jade smashed back the gibbering uncoordinated masses, sending them sprawling in the elite’s path.

Seeing the skill, and hearing Porkchop’s exhausted gasp, Ianmus reacted. His mana shifted palpably through the air as he quickly modified the spell he’d been holding at the ready. The restful light of the sun settled on Porkchop’s shoulders, bolstering the regeneration of his Stamina.

Kaius made his own move, burning plasma and bottled fury cracking into existence. In the tight confines of the tunnel, the booming thundercrack dazed as easy as a blow to the head, joining with the blinding light to daze the boggarts.

Storm’s contempt screamed through the air, lurching to wrap the rapidly approaching elites with chains that burned like the forge—and penetrated thrice as deep as simple heat.

Only for a barrier of roiling lilac to burst into existence, flickering in defiant opposition to his spell. The bugbears screamed, but kept pushing under the aegis of their magical protection.

Scowling at the persistent enemies, Kaius focused on them with his Truesight.

Bugbear- Level 72:

Lower Race, Bruiser, Ensorcelled

….

Bugbear- Level 71:

Lower Race, Vanguard, Ensorcelled

….