B3 – Chapter 41: Culling the infected

The Spriggan husks and infected corpses of rotting wood and shambling moss rushed forward to the defensive circle, raising arms as shards of barbed wood were flung out and slammed into the armored defenses of the arrayed forces under Tristan’s control. He took refuge behind his small shield, and lowered himself close to Onyx’s back. “Come on,” he said in a low voice to the black unicorn. “We lead the charge.”

The unicorn blitzed forward with intensity and fury, his hooves sending clods of rotten and foul soil into a geyser behind them as Tristan pushed the essence of the Realm into his armored bracers affixing the gauntlets to the rest of his armor – the small rod for the Fireball spell taking the surge of essence. Raising his sword, he focused the blazing ball of fury into the wall of Spriggan who were like a living wave of wood and pestilence. The silver cascade tore out in a beam before hitting the front and then exploding with the force of a whole grain silo being ignited.

Tristan didn’t feel the heat, but the pressure wave generated from the explosion made Onyx slow slightly. The Spriggan were alight; creaking and groaning as they were burned – walking pyres of decay as the diseased moss and lichen covering them sloughed down to try and extinguish the flames.

Identifying the largest of the bunch that was near the middle of the formation, Tristan surged essence into the small rod that held Inferno Trigger, and he focused the stored spell on that large figure; a hulking pine tree with dozens of branches that functioned like arms, with spindly hands on the ends of the boughs. It was consumed with silver fire.

And then he activated Fiery Burst, and the enormous tree exploded; sending shockwaves through the ranks of the diseased Spriggan as the flame billowed out. Bark was torn asunder, moss and lichen send flying, and Onyx forced to slow his approach even more.

But the tide continued to roll toward Tristan. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and then a familiar pounding of hoofbeats on the ground. Sparing a brief glance back, he saw the rest of his forces had joined his charge – fairy dragons flying forth with scything blades, swords, mauls, daggers, and axes. Weapons shifting in their grip until most were holding chopping-style weapons suited to their foe.

He spotted Bertram and Gisele on a far side of the encircled space, reaching the lines. And Tristan had to tear his attention away from his brother to focus on the line he was just about to reach. With the full essence of his Realm at his disposal, he got his feet onto Onyx’s back and shouted out, “Onyx, stop!”

The black unicorn came to a halt, and Tristan jumped with the momentum, shouting, “With this tail, I shall crush my foes!” he reached the magic-shield-covered hand behind him to his lower back, and tapped just above his rump with his index and middle finger. The phantasmal, beating tail manifested and he rolled as he landed amongst the mass of trees, carving out with his weapon as he shifted the elemental energy coursing through it to fire.

The silver flames turned a brilliant red once they ignited on their foe, and the Spriggan surged in to him. “Felicity, take off!” he shouted. He spung in tight circles, cutting off branches that reached out to him with dripping ichor and ooze that smelled foul; like the worst type of spoiled milk left to curdle in the hot sun all summer. The huge spectral tail protruding from his lower back slammed into the Spriggan behind him as he kept rotating; sending them flying back into their fellows and keeping them at bay.

“Got it!” she flew up and away.

Tristan poured the powerful essence raging through him into his sword’s cross guard, activating Winter’s Wrath. A tremendous, icy gale surged up around him – growing in size until it covered an entire quarter of the battlefield. The ice, rime, sleet, and biting cold howled like a wild force of nature unleashed upon the world – all centered on the Fey Lord who glowed with the light of his Realm’s power.

The diseased foes locked up, frozen into icy chunks of wood where they stood. Creaking and cracking could be heard as they struggled against the icy binds, and as Tristan let the icy storm fade – the rest of the cavalry charge hit.

With a tremendous crash, the unicorns and fairy dragons slammed into the lines of frozen Spriggan, devastating them and exploding them into chunks. Chunks that began to wriggle and writhe on the ground.

The Matriarchs’ voice echoed out in the forest of frozen trees from Tristan’s left. “They must be fully destroyed! No bigger than a hand!”

Tristan saw what she meant, as several of the wooden chunks began to shift and move toward each other; trying to merge or mend themselves. Not happening, he thought as he shifted the essence flow through the rod that held Chain Bolt. The lance of yellow lightning surged into the wood and then cascaded across the entire circular battlefield – shocking and applying the “charge” to each of the Spriggan, as Tristan had no desire for it to fork to his allies.

The wood locked up in place briefly as its movement ceased – and that was all he needed as he then used a single Bolt spell from another stored rod in his bracer. The spark of yellow lightning surged out and hit the chunk of wood – detonating the charge with a violent, yellow explosion. An explosion that then cascaded and chained to every Spriggan within five feet of each other.

The whole battlefield was electrified in a split-second, and Tristan looked around for Onyx as the fairy dragons and Unicorns with him on that side of the battlefield had eliminated the largest of the Spriggan and were dealing with the diseased, tiny chunks. “Onyx!” he shouted out.

The black unicorn rode up behind him, shoved his head between Tristan’s legs, and practically flung him up onto his back. Tristan barely caught his footing, and the spectral tail protruding from his lower back made a loud thwack noise against Onyx’s plated armor. “Where to?” Onyx asked, sounding slightly out of breath.

Tristan pointed to another side of the battlefield where the combat still raged. “That way!” he shouted. Onyx tilted into a full sprint, and Tristan kept low over his shoulder to reduce air resistance.

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Felicity flew right above and to his right, shouting, “I’ve got something that might help, but it’s going to get really hot!”

“Do it!” Tristan shouted as he reached the next set of lines, “Onyx, stop!” The mount came to a skidding halt, and Tristan jumped as the momentum flung him into the fray. Landing on his feet and rolling to reduce the impact, he came to his feet in the midst of fairy dragons and Unicorns that were engaged in heated exchanges of blows with the Spriggan.

The diseased branches impacted several of the people under Tristan’s command, and he watched with a morbid curiosity as the blows themselves did not harm the combatants, but the dripping ichor and ooze that splashed onto the armor did do something. The metal began to rust and distort, warping as wood grew out of it.

It would appear that the disease mutated and changed given its long duration incubating and shifting within the sealed part of the Realm, Zeltana said with a morbid fascination that echoed Tristan’s own. They need to remove the armor!

Tristan shouted, his voice reverberating across the Fey Realm. “Everyone struck; lose the armor! If you were hit, retreat to the center of the glade!” He looked back to the large tree and ran toward it; using his tail and powerful hip motions to slam the Spriggan aside, clearing a path. Getting his sword into the mix, he cut through branch and bark, blocking strikes with the magical ward hovering above his forearm.